Chapter 402 - Larson (1/2)
”Urgent mission from the Boss, have the jet be readied with the ability to carry a body,” yelled across the various sectors of Rotherham – the airfield turned upside down. People went from left to right, pilots called from break, a prototype jet lifted from the underground laboratory. The hangar opened to a gloomy outside. It took less than an hour for the plane to climb to the heavens.
At the same time, Staxius teleported to Scaica from Dostein, time was of the essence. The phone call earlier freaked the emperor so badly, he knew not how to respond. That much was apparent from the following phone call.
”What did you mean by; use any means necessary?”
”Throw money, blackmail, I care not,” the phone hung with him inside the hotel.
”Éclair,” quick to dash out the penthouse, ”-infiltrate the investigation unit, I want the location of where the body is.”
”Roger,” came a fast response.
'Come on, don't you dare become more of a hassle,' walking at a running pace; news flashed across the television inside the lobby with the title of Aceline's death. It was a scandal, a thing of utmost tragedy. Allowing it to perpetually spread throughout the continent would have other repercussions. The mystery of who killed Aceline was still at large and Staxius knew it all too well. For once, the ruling of it being a robbery or obsessive fan was dropped. The reason for said conclusion was Elliot's report last night; Cimier's snipers. Out of the building, the car automatically pulled over without a driver. ”Any links yet?” asked he to the virtual butler.
”Still foraging the database; Lady Aceline's body is being transported to Kinele's General hospital.”
'A thirty-minute drive,' he slammed onto the pedal while Éclair worked tirelessly.
'What did father mean?' sat the Emperor facing an empty screen. 'Aceline's dead, what does he want to accomplish?” then the realization hit, ”-this can be a scandal,” to which the fingers latched onto the keyboard, the urge to write was there but no idea came. ”The Pride of Hidros was assassinated by Alphia. The Argashield Federation might not take this lightly. Arda is allied with us, yes, and Eira and I are courting. The relation isn't set in stones yet, we're not engaged and the Federation still views us as potential enemies. How have I been so blind, my alliance is with the King of Arda, not the Federation. Queen Gallienne and her council could vote against father and have malicious intent. This is bad, really bad, Aceline's death could not have come at the worst time,” a spur of inspiration had one number locked in place.
”General Bashmire.”
”Rare of you to call upon me, your imperial majesty, how may I be of service?” answered a rougher, older voice.
”Am I correct in saying that public safety and the investigation unit falls under thy jurisdiction?”
”Yes, that is true, why?” came a rather cautious response.
”Good, it concerns the matter of Lady Aceline's death. I don't want anyone to touch nor lay a hand on her body – make sure it's preserved. General, you understand the implications, don't you?” the emphasis had the elder man breathe a chuckle.
”Yes, I do, your imperial majesty, I shall have the force hold and wait for further orders. I swear upon my name, Lady Aceline's body will remain untouched,” a heavy shadow escaped out the windows as the phone call ended. Sultria's posture gave to a slouch as rays of light pierced the lesser opaque curtains.
'The moment a person dies, the body starts to break-down. Freezing can but slow down the process, it's impossible to bring the dead to life. That is when it concerns the rest of the world. Not in Hidros, not where occult and magic are the main focus of development. Her body will need to be healed using potions, the mana lingering after death should be enough of a catalyst. It's going to be a process of reattaching her soul – shouldn't be hard. The Revival ritual; shunned by the magic world, the ritual the late-pope used to conjure an army of undead fighters. Alchemy is going to come into play; the time has come to truly see if the many years of studying and experimenting will do her justice.'
Dim, cold, and sterile, Aceline's body rested fully n.a.k.e.d on a metal table. A singular light flashed against where the bullet entered her body. The room, despite being large, gave the impression of being small.
”Doctor,”
”What is it?” returned the man wearing a mask, ”-what do you want, can't you see I'm busy?”
”Sorry to interrupt, but we've received direct orders to not touch her under any circ.u.mstances.”
”Why should I care, she's dead, and we need to know the cause of death,” the expression through his glasses was of excitement.
”Don't,” refuted the nurse, ”-it's more than a simple case of homicide. Doctor, please, listen, if as little as a single hair is taken, we'll be in deep trouble, trust me.”
”Who in the world must have called to have you out of all people shudder?” the mask landed inside a bin listlessly, ”-the damned politics, fine,” the walk felt slow until he stormed out.
Towards the east of Melmark, the investigators assigned to Aceline's case sat in their office. Tightly packed desk with people working tirelessly. Larson sat before a laptop with details on similar cases.
”Chad from division eight speaking. What, oh, alright, are you sure? Ok, thanks, goodbye,” it hung with a cling.
”What has you in a foul mood?” inquired Larson in a mean spirit.
”Got a call from the Doctor, the autopsy was canceled. Says orders came from the top,” the grudge in the voice was palpable.
”Should have seen it coming,” he now leaned in a manner to balance on the back two feet of the chair, ”-it happens in cases like these. Always comes down from the higher-ups; watch this, I'll bet my dinner the next call is from the Director saying us to drop the case.”
*Dring,* lo and behold, the phone call arrived asking the same as he predicted.
”Told ya,” a smug smirk to Chad had the recruit slam against the table.
”I'm not taking this whilst sitting down,” he gritted.
”Chill,” sighed Larson, ”-don't be in such a hurry.”
”But sir.”
”Shut up,” he stood and walked, the footsteps felt menacing in a way, ”-I have my methods. Come on, the case is dropped. Thinking about it, I have an aunt who's at the hospital, want to meet her, she's very fond of idiots like you.”
”Y-you sure?”
”Yeah, let's go, the worst thing that could happen is her puking on you. Don't worry about it.”
A tall white building stood with, *-Kinele's General hospital,* written in big, readable fonts.
”You must be Mr. Haggard?” asked a man wearing glasses in a black-suit.
”Yes, and you are?”
”The Director of the hospital. I was informed of the arrival, thus here I am. I would be rude to not welcome a King personally.”