Commanders Course (Old Ver.) [Girls' Frontline Fanfiction]

Chapter 17: It's not a threat. It's a fact

     The workshop crew had never gathered intelligence about an individual before. It was exciting and nerve-racking at the same time. They were scrolling through news articles, past events, ceremonial photos. Anything about the Director of Defense was pinned, bookmarked, and kept in a private storage drive.

     "Here's another article about him. It's made by a team of reporters called the Double 'O' Seizer." 6P62 walked over to Aiden's workstation and showed him the tablet. He put his modified watch aside, which he had been tinkering with, and took a quick read.

     "This was made by a group of course participants. I didn't know this island had a dedicated news team."

     "They did, but it was quietly abolished a few years ago. Something about not having enough members. Take a read." She poked at the screen.

     "Baron Wins Directorial Position." He started with the headline before continuing on. "Baron Sekler, a candidate and former Commander, won the directorial position by default due to the passing of his rival. 'I am deeply saddened by his death, but I will do whatever it takes to fulfil his dream.' Said Baron Sekler for his inaugural speech. Eugh, what kind of cliche line was that?" His lips curled with disgust. Something about it made his skin crawl. It felt wrong. Out of place.

     "Check out the compiled votes." She swiped at the screen to reveal a bar graph. With a quick glance, the numbers were easily identifiable.

     "Wow, his rival could've won in a landslide! But, how did his rival died? Can you find any news about his death?"

     "Here's one!" M500 rushed to him with her phone. "Something about a kitchen explosion."

     Aiden took the phone and read it aloud. "Seven people were taken to the hospital on Friday, October 13. One died from third-degree burns while others suffered from smoke inhalation. Preliminary investigations indicate that the explosion was caused by a malfunctioning doll." He tilted his head, finding the story to be quite absurd. "Dolls don't explode when they're malfunctioning."

     "We don't, our systems automatically shuts down to prevent further damage to our body and neural cloud. Check out the name of the burned victim. Rubert Klein. It's Baron's rival."

     He did. There was no mistaking it. The pictures were clear proof, pictures of Rubert Klein before the incident. He was a young man with a kind smile, donning a formal suit that seemed big for his size, in the middle of a handshake. In the background, Baron Sekler could be seen with curled lips. Lips denoting a slight snide. Again, his skin began to crawl.

     "Wait a minute, are you telling me Baron murdered his rival?" He shook his head and respectively handed both the tablet and phone back. "There's not enough evidence to back that possibility up."

     "He's got the motive! He was losing in his campaign and went to murder his rival to win!" 6P62 shook her tablet wildly in the air.

     "We can't be weaving facts for our own sake. We'll lose in a heartbeat. We need concrete evidence."

     "Well, I'm stumped." 6P62 placed her tablet aside and crossed her arms, a little vexed.

     "Me too. So, what's next?" M500 shut an eye and scratched the back of her ear.

     "I'll find out more about that malfunctioning doll. If I can trace it back to the last person who maintained it, I could probably get some answers."

+ + +

     There was no record of the malfunctioned doll. Not even a footnote. If it came from Baron, there would be a statement record. Paperwork stating the ownership. But Baron would have definitely purged it. Leave no trace. The company who made the doll would probably have it. If only there was a clue to which one.