Want to support CHYOA?
Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)

Chapter 18 by micdan282 micdan282

What's next?

Reporting In

The moon was beginning to dip behind the skyline when Nightingale landed on the rooftop of the precinct. Her boots hit the concrete with a muted thud, the grappling line retracting back into her wrist gauntlet. Detective Thatcher was already waiting for her, a thermos in one hand and a cigarette burning low in the other. He looked up as she approached, face drawn and tired, though not surprised to see her.

“Well?” he asked.

“It’s done.” She answered, walking up to him. “The auction was broken up. The buyers scattered. The weapons destroyed.”

He took a sip from his thermos. “How clean?”

“Cleaner than I expected,” she admitted. “There was a lot of heat, but no casualties.”

That caught his attention. He lowered the thermos. “She held back?”

Nightingale nodded. “Whisper kept her word. No killing.”

Thatcher stared at her for a long moment, cigarette burning down to the filter between his fingers. “Huh.”

“I didn’t think she would either,” Nightingale said quietly. “But she did. Maybe she’s not-”

“Don’t think like that.” He snapped. “Keeping a promise doesn’t erase the rest of it. You know that.”

“I do.”

“She’ll use that trust to pull you closer. That’s what she does.”

“How do you know that? How do you know everything you do on her? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Thatcher didn’t answer for a long time. Slowly, he lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply.

“I’ve worked with her before,” He admitted. “She wasn’t always how she is now but that was a long time ago.”

Rikki nodded.

“Maybe there’s still something left in her that wants to be better.”

“That part of her died a long time ago,” he muttered, flicking the cigarette away and watching the embers scatter on the wind. “And if it didn’t, she’s buried it deep.”

They stood in silence for a while.

“I’m going to try and get more information from her,” Rikki decided. “She had intel on the auction, who knows what else she knows.”

Thatcher gave a slow nod. “Then keep digging. But don’t get comfortable with her. Promise me that.”

“I promise.”

He nodded slowly.

“You look like shit. Go get some rest,” he said, turning to the rooftop door. “You’re no good to me dead.”

She watched him go, her thoughts clouded by the memory of her night with Whisper.

What's next?

Comments

      Want to support CHYOA?
      Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)