Meanwhile : As they were escorted out, Captain Larcon nodded to Decker and Alvin. "Alright, let's call it a night. You two go home and get some rest. The hard part is done. We'll tackle this case fresh in the morning."
Decker nodded, stifling a yawn. "Sounds good to me, Captain. I'll review what we've got so far tomorrow and see if anything stands out."
Alvin rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm beat. Hopefully, tomorrow will be more productive."
Captain Larcon's expression was firm. "Get some rest, both of you. We'll regroup in the morning and figure out our next move."
As they drove away from the Wright estate, Decker and Alvin were both lost in their thoughts, the case already weighing heavily on their minds.
Shortly after they drove off, The wind shifted and morphed into unusual patterns, then suddenly stilled. A man shrouded in shadow appeared in front of the gate and then teleported into the estate, materializing before Sebastian. He knelt down. "Greetings, Master Sebastian. You asked the Core for assistance, and I was dispatched here. What can I do for you?"
Sebastian's voice was low and menacing as he spoke to the figure kneeling before him. "I want you to find whoever killed my grandson and make them suffer. I want them to beg for mercy, to plead for their pitiful life. I want them to know the depth of my pain and the full weight of my wrath."
The figure's voice was low and even, "I understand, Master Sebastian. I will find the one responsible, and they will suffer as you desire."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed at the figure kneeling before him. "You seem...efficient. What's your name?"
The figure's voice remained low and even. "I am Shadow Snake, Master Sebastian. I will not disappoint."
Sebastian's expression didn't change, but a flicker of interest danced in his eyes. "Very well, Shadow Snake. Find me the killer. Leave no stone unturned. I want results, and I want them now."
"As you wish, Master Sebastian. It shall be done," Shadow Snake said, rising to leave.
But before he could disappear, Oliver stopped him. "Wait, don't leave yet. Take this with you."
He handed Shadow Snake a phone.
"My son's car had a GPS tracker inside of it. I believe his attackers killed him. And stole his car."
Shadow Snake stared at the phone, then spoke, "I see the GPS tracker went dead somewhere in the outskirts of the city. My guess is they took the car to a chop shop."
Shadow Snake's eyes never left the phone's screen as he continued, "I'll see if I can get a ping on the signal before it dropped. Maybe we can get lucky and pinpoint the location."
He paused, his fingers flying across the screen. "If they took it to a chop shop, we'll need to be careful. Those places usually have tight security."
His gaze flicked up, meeting Oliver's. "You want me to proceed with caution or go in guns blazing?"
"I want you to find out if my son's murderers are there. If they are there, bring them to me. You can dispose of everyone else, leave no witnesses. And also, at the same time, send a message. Leave a blood bath behind," Oliver said, his face filled with malice.
"As you wish, young Master Oliver," Shadow Snake said as he disappeared.
Meanwhile, back at Mike's chop shop, he and his group were celebrating their big haul, laughing and clinking beers together. The sound of music and rowdy chatter filled the dimly lit garage, the smell of grease and gasoline hanging heavy in the air.
Suddenly, one of Mike's crew noticed a figure standing in the shadows, observing them with an unnerving intensity. The music died down, and the room fell silent as Mike turned to face the newcomer.
"Can we help you?" Mike asked, his tone cautious.
The figure didn't respond, its gaze sweeping the room before locking onto Mike. It was then that Mike saw the cold, calculating eyes of Shadow Snake, and his heart sank.
Mike stumbled back, stuttering, "W-what do you want?"
Shadow Snake stepped forward, his voice cold and menacing. "Tell me where the ones responsible for the young master's death are," he said, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. His eyes seemed to bore into Mike and his group, as if daring them to lie.
The air was thick with tension as Shadow Snake's gaze swept over the room, his presence commanding attention. "You have 5 seconds to answer," he added, his voice devoid of emotion.
Mike started stuttering again, "I-I have no idea what the hell you're talking about... what young master?"
Shadow Snake's expression didn't change, but his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "I see so you're not the ones who ended his life. Very well. Where is the young master's car? You have 10 seconds to answer me."
The silence that followed was oppressive, Shadow Snake's eyes burning with an unspoken threat as he waited for Mike to respond.
One of Mike's men, Tim, spoke up, his tone laced with arrogance. "Hey, buddy, look around – you're in a chop shop. Any car that gets brought here is stripped down and sold for parts."
Shadow Snake's smile was cold and calculated. "I see. Let me enlighten you. My name is Shadow Snake. I'm a member of an organization known as the Core, and I operate as an assassin. One secret shared – now, let me reveal another."
"There are only two groups of individuals who ever learn my name: those to whom I pledge allegiance, and those I have marked for elimination."
With that, Shadow Snake charged forward, his movements swift and lethal, leaving no doubt about his intentions.
Mike's eyes were frozen in terror as Shadow Snake systematically eliminated his crew, one by one, with ruthless efficiency. The sound of crunching bones, muffled screams, and the scent of blood filled the air. Mike was now the only one left standing, his back against the wall, as Shadow Snake turned to face him.
Shadow Snake's gaze locked onto Mike, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Now, it's your turn," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Where are the ones responsible for the young master's death?"
Mike stuttered, "I don't know who killed your young master, but there was this group that brought in a Dodge Viper GTC, 2017 model, in tonight. We've already stripped it down for parts."
Shadow Snake's eyes narrowed slightly. "Where can I find them? Tell me, and I will let you go ."
"I don't know where you can find them. Whenever they bring in stolen vehicles, they just bring them to me and I pay them, and that's the only interaction I have with these men. That's all I know, I swear," Mike said, trembling in fear as a warm liquid ran down his pants.
Shadow Snake gripped Mike by the throat, lifting him off the ground. "You are disgusting. A grown man wetting himself. You should have some pride. You're about to die today, after all. You're useless. Give me the names of the people who killed the young master, and I will stop choking you."
"They consist of a small group of five men, with the leader being the only one I'm familiar with – Boss Josh. I've disclosed all the information I possess. In light of this, I expect you to uphold your end of the agreement and release me," Mike said, his voice strained but attempting to convey a sense of resolve.
Shadow Snake's expression remained impassive. "Very well, I will release you. However, now that you've been told my name, your fate is sealed." With a swift and precise motion, Shadow Snake terminated Mike's life, the body crumpling to the ground.
"Boss Josh you say! I think, more like dead man," Shadow Snake sneered. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Sebastian, updating him on the situation. With a final glance around, Shadow Snake disappeared into the shadows, whistling "London Bridge Has Fallen Down" as he faded into the darkness, the haunting melody echoing through the air.
Meanwhile, the next day at 8:30, Detective Decker was dragging his tired body out of his bed. He stumbled to the bathroom to take a cold shower that would hopefully revive his weary senses. The icy water cascaded down, jolting him awake, but the fatigue still lingered in his eyes. He rubbed the sleep from his eyelids, trying to shake off the remnants of a restless night's sleep. The investigation was far from over, and he knew he had a long day ahead of him. As he got dressed, he headed outside and saw Alvin leaning against his car.
"Good morning, gorgeous," Alvin said with a smirk. "How was your beauty sleep?"
"I woke up tired," Decker replied with a frown.
"That's good to hear," Alvin said with a professional tone. "We can get to work investigating the circumstances of David Wright's death."
Decker and Alvin got into the car and drove to the station. As they arrived , Decker and Alvin signed in to and headed straight to the coroner's office. The fluorescent lights overhead cast an unforgiving glare as they walked down the sterile hallway.
As Decker and Alvin entered the morgue, Dr. Jones looked up from the counter where she was reviewing a file. She turned to face them, a hint of professionalism in her demeanor.
"Ah, Detectives," she said, her voice crisp. "I've got the autopsy report right here."
She walked over to them, file in hand, and began to brief them on her findings. "From what I gather so far, the victim was involved in a fight, then it would appear he was shot three times, but the most fatal wound was the one to the chest - it went straight through and pierced his heart. If I'm not mistaken, the weapon that was used was a 9 millimeter." She paused, her eyes locked on the detectives. "The evidence suggests a violent and deliberate attack."
Alvin's frown deepened as he spoke, his voice laced with disdain. "How cowardly. Shooting a guy after he's already been in a fight with you? That's not exactly a fair fight, is it?" He shook his head, his expression grim.
"This whole thing smells like an execution to me." Decker shot him a sideways glance, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered Alvin's reaction.
Dr. Jones pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and gestured to the photographs on the light box.
"Take a look at these pictures. You can see slight bruises on his arms, which suggest he landed a few solid punches. The bruising on his knuckles also indicates he threw some good shots." She pointed to a specific image.
"This bruising on his left forearm is consistent with a defensive block, but the one on his right hand suggests he connected with his attacker's face."
Dr. Jones's eyes met Decker's and Alvin's, her expression thoughtful. "Whoever he fought with, it's clear they got the worst end of it."
With a sigh, Decker pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket and placed it into his mouth. But before he could light it, Dr. Jones slapped him behind his head with her clipboard.
"Excuse me, Detective, have you forgotten where you are? This is my workspace. If you need to smoke, take it outside," she said, as she fixed her glasses on her face.
Decker's eyes widened in surprise as Dr. Jones slapped him behind the head with her clipboard. He rubbed the sore spot, grinning sheepishly. "Ow, Doc. No need for that." He chuckled and pocketed the cigarette. "I forgot about your no-smoking policy. Sorry about that."
Dr. Jones gave him a stern look, but a hint of amusement danced in her eyes. "I mean it, Detective. Take it outside."
"For your insolence, you owe me dinner," she said, puffing out her cheeks.
Decker chuckled and rubbed the back of his head, "Alright, alright. I get the message. No smoking in your workspace, and I owe you dinner. You're on, Doc." He smiled, seeming to enjoy the lighthearted jab.
Dr. Jones's expression softened slightly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she nodded. "I'll hold you to that, Detective."
"Excuse me, I'm still here. If you guys need me to leave, I can do that. I sense romance in the air," Alvin said with a teasing voice.
Alvin's comment brought a flush to Dr. Jones's cheeks as she cleared her throat, attempting to regain her professional composure. Decker shot Alvin a warning glance, a smirk still playing on his lips. "Shut up, Alvin," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "We're not done discussing the case... yet."
Alvin chuckled, holding up his hands in mock innocence. "Just trying to help, partner."