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Chapter Forty five- Finally

No personality today, just a song.

Good years by Zayn Malik.

Try listening to it while reading the second part...

Another update...

WARNING ⚠️⚠️⚠️ --- VERY LONG CHAPTER 😑😑

Enjoy ❤️🖤----------------------

Hunter's p.o.v.

New york city?

No.

I cross out another possible address of Soldo from my ideas.

  The office was closed by now because the time, I assume is between five and six and I'm seated in my office with an almost empty bottle of whiskey.

  I'm having a dinner with Mr Reid tomorrow and I have no intentions of telling him what is going on yet but the fact that I'm at the greatest standstill in life is pricking at my soul.

I bring my focus back to what I have at hand.

Los Angeles.

  When I heard last about him, that was his location and Soldo isn't one to stay in a position for long.

What about Los Gatos?

I heard of another drug pin brewing up there. He may have gone to stake his claims.

  But then there's Slovakia.

Casablanca.

Buenos Aires

Even Rio de Janiero.

  Chances search also had suspicions on Madrid.

  This is hopeless!

I threw down my pen and jumped out of my chair in annoyance.

  By this time, I had taken off my suit jacket and rolled up my sleeves.

  The environment became too hot a while ago due to my extreme brain exercise that I had to undo the top three buttons of my dress shirt.

  I sighed and took a deep breath before taking up the paper that I had scribbled down some pointers.

  He could have chosen to hide in the most expected place, back at Los Alamos but the police were reported to have raided the den four years ago, he couldn't have gone back.

  But soldo is a man of the unexpected. Cole was a former member to the circle just like I was and he did mention seeing Soldo in Port Harcourt the day he went to visit his grandma in Nigeria.

  Then again this was two years ago, before all this threat and bull shit.

  Soldo could be on fucking Mars planning on how to plant weed in Jupiter.

  " Aaaaah! This is hopeless!!"

In my anger, I grabbed the glass bottle containing less than a quarter of whiskey and threw it against the opposite wall.

  I watched as it shattered to pieces and fell in shreds to the floor.

  Just like my life.

Everything, just everything is going to be gone soon.

  I was given an ultimatum of five months to live. Five freaking months.

  But that was when the letter was sent.