Bad Blood: A Lukewarm Adventure

Chapter Seven

The short, buff man entered the mayor's office. He was stopped by a secretary outside, and he promptly flashed his badge at the pretty woman. "Sergeant Fischer," he said boldly, "NYPD."

The secretary briefly examined his badge and motioned for him to enter. "Anything urgent, Officer?"

"Oh, no," he assured her. "I'm just here to inform him that we're increasing his security this month...owing to the upcoming elections."

"But I haven't heard of anything like—"

"You don't want another assassination, do you, ma'am?"

She lowered her gaze. "Very well, then, sir. Mayor Goldman will see you in a moment."

***

Jerome Goldman smiled at the cop standing at his doorstep. "Come on in, kid. What brings you here?"

"Hello there, Mr Mayor." He noticed the little boy sitting by his father's desk, reading a science magazine.

"John, say hello to Sergeant Fischer here." Goldman ruffled his hair.

"Hello," the boy mumbled and promptly went back to reading his magazine.

"He's intrigued by science and stuff." Goldman shrugged.

"He's a lone wolf, eh?" The cop grinned.

"Well, I suppose you could call him that."

"Mr Mayor, I'm here for an important reason," the policeman suddenly said, "and it's imperative that the boy be excluded from this."

Goldman's smile disappeared and he nodded. "Run along, John. My secretary will get you some Coke and the latest issue of National Geographic." After his son left the room, he turned to the officer. "You... Have I seen you somewhere? You seem awfully familiar."

The officer wordlessly played a clip of security footage captured nearly two years ago...from a supermarket owned by an Asian man.

"Oh, my God!" Goldman took a step backwards. "You—you had attacked Jonathan Lukewarm at that store a while ago. You're a Revolutionary."

David Brannon merely stood there, a smug expression on his face. "I think you have a pretty good idea why I'm here, Mr Mayor."

"Kindly elaborate." A crack in his voice. David could see the fear in his eyes.

"The upcoming mayoral election," he uttered anticlimactically. "You've been elected mayor for two consecutive terms. It's a pity you can't stand for the election a third time."

"What are you getting at?" Goldman sank into his chair.

"We know your wife's planning to run for mayor this time." David grinned. "Prepare a concession speech as soon as possible, Jerome...or things might take an ugly turn."

Goldman nodded weakly. "I will, I will. Mary will concede. Please don't do anything to—"

"Shut up, old man, and give me a break." A moment later, David stormed out of his office, a triumphant grin on his face.

***

Barry stood over the dead body, his face creased into a grim expression. "I'm sorry, Lukewarm."

Lukewarm sighed. "I just can't believe he's...gone." He stared at Andrew Lukewarm's corpse and a trail of blood leading to the front door. "My father's...dead."

"He was stabbed in the heart multiple times," Barry remarked, observing the gaping cuts on his chest. "There seems to have been an—"

"—altercation?" Lukewarm interjected. "That would seem to be the case," he added, noticing a broken vase—and dead flowers strewn across the wooden floor.