Twin Flames

⇝ PROLOGUE ⇜

The Enemy

   "I don't understand how you could find this task so difficult," a voice crackled through the radio that sat on the shelf in the back of a police van. Four officers sat huddled around the radio, each seeming to listen more intently than the last. The gentle patter of rain on the metal roof of the van provided little interference and seemed to agitate the lead officer on the investigation. He paced relentlessly in the small area, the other officers standing flat against the wall to avoid his path.

   "Sorry boss, we're trying everything we can," a different voice, much more timid than the first. Clearly a lackey with their arm twisted into the wrong business.

    "Sorry doesn't get the job done," a loud thud cut through the words. "Sorry doesn't get me what I want!" There was an uneasy moment of silence, where even the lead detective had stopped his pacing and gave his full attention to the radio. That level of anger coming from the mob boss was more than they'd heard in a long time and had a history of being life threatening.

    "It's not as easy as you think it is, dad," a younger voice, but much more bold than the lackey. His tone was eerily calm in the face of what the officers knew to be a dangerous criminal mastermind. An annoyed groan filtered through the static.

    "Have you gotten anywhere close to her? It's been weeks since I first put you on this," the one in charge asked, seeming to dial back his anger due to his son's presence.

    "Not really. The cops have been surprisingly good at keeping us off her tail," a voice quite similar to the boss's son replied, though it carried a significantly more upbeat attitude.

    "That must be the other twin," one of the cops mumbled before being smacked in the back of the head as a warning to stay quiet.

    "So what's our next move then?" There was a moment of silence, in which it sounded as though people were shuffling about. The officers in the back of the van traded wary glances, awaiting whatever was to come next. The lead detective moved closer to the radio, leaning over the youngest officer who was in control of it.

   "I think we should take her to this safe house," the rustle of paper followed the son's voice. "And then wait it out for a few weeks so we can make sure the cops aren't on our trail. Then, we hand deliver her to you."

    "A few weeks? Is that really how long you think it will take for you to get the cops off your ass?" The agitation was obvious, even through the poor quality of the microphone they had bugged the building with.

   "Maybe even up to a month or so, just to be sure," the son who had spoken first reasoned.

    "A small price to pay in the long run, dad," the other twin attempted to soothe, though the sour mood of his father probably resulted in him getting a nasty look.

   "As much as I hate waiting, it will all be worth it the moment she's mine."

    The line crackled for a moment before going dead. Someone had turned off the bug. Silence clung to all the officer's in the back of the van before a sigh broke the tension.

    "They're still after her," the lead detective spoke, his words laced with the solemnity he felt. "Even after all these years."

    "But at least we know where they're taking her," the younger officer who had received the smack earlier chimed in. Though it was clear his perkiness did little to affect the mood of the officers, the eldest still gave him a halfhearted smile.

    "Yes," he hummed. "That's true I suppose."