Iliad

The Seldonan Stakeout was no stranger to twisting investigations. Hell, T. T. Thompson had been chasing Goose Guy for seven years. But the investigation into the so-called ‘New Glabe Warrior’ was chaotic even by their standards. A web of red string on a pinboard, linking disparate incidents only tangentially linked together. It seemed like that was all it would be, until a letter arrived in the mail. A pretty standard tip, all things considered, but the signature..

Κδ

Thompson and Constantyne quickly phoned Elodie and hopped in their twin Lancasters, blazing down the road in the pouring rain with Elodie following behind. Some minutes later, they pulled up beside an abandoned school, gates rusted from years of disrepair.

‘Looks like another interesting job, Constantyne,’ muttered Thompson.

‘Be serious, Thompson. We don’t know who’s inside,’ whispered Constantyne, unusually grim. There was a ghost of the past lurking around, and he wasn’t in the mood for fooling around.

They stepped forwards into the school, flashlights raised and covering each other’s backs. It was quiet. Too quiet. Too empty. There were traces of illicit activity throughout the rooms: stacks of untraceable cash here and there, ledgers of files recording the group’s operations. But no people. Normally a place like this would be brimming with guards and mercs, but…

Nothing.

At least, not until Elodie’s voice echoed down the halls.

‘Hey, guys… I found where everyone is…’

Thompson and Constantyne rushed to the basement, which was filled with all manner of weapons and ammunition. A weapon-smuggling cartel. Classic criminals. But what was stranger still was the people, all propped up against a wall and tied up, knocked out. In front of them lay a stack of photographs, with tens of pictures of the files and cash. All the evidence needed for a fantastic article. But there also lay a card. A depiction of an ancient soldier from the classical era, shielded with a spear and plumed helmet. Not a new sight for the group.

‘This matches the other facilities we’ve been to,’ said Thompson. ‘The people all knocked out and arranged neatly with no other sign of a scuffle. Photographs laid out for us to find. This damn card. Hate to say it, but it reminds me an awful lot of Goose Guy.’

‘Yeah, it does… but how is it involved? How is it even here in New Glabe?’ spat Constantyne.

‘I don’t know.’

They took the photos, the files and the money, before stepping out of the building. But one look back showed them that they weren’t alone.

A shadowy figure stood on the roof, unmoving like a statue. But it had certainly not been there as they entered. A large disc seemed to be on its arm and the little light in the area outlined the lapels of a suit and tie.

Then, a sudden bolt of lightning tore through the sky, illuminating a sleek black helmet. And under it, a pair of keen green eyes.

Constantyne raised his revolver, fury in his voice, but Thompson put a hand on his forearm, lowering the gun. Elodie only stared, shock and awe fixing her expression in place.

With the next flash of lightning, he was gone again.

Written by Alyssa