קгєץ | By : Sessakag Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female > Naruto/Hinata Views: 8512 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
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Chapter Fifteen
Pawn
𝔸𝕜𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚
March 24, 2012
Thick gray whirls of smoke wafted across fierce coffee-colored eyes, briefly obscuring his view of the mugshot pinned at the top of the evidence board. The pungent scent of menthol laced tobacco filled his nostrils, the hit of nicotine working overtime to decrease the high levels of stress the picture created. His gaze moved over the distinctive features of the grim, scar-faced man as he exhaled a second stream through frowning lips.
Bright blonde hair touched with the wildness of a lion’s mane.
Gruesome, somewhat jagged lines, three on each side, carved into his cheeks.
Soulless blue eyes that gave even him the creeps if he stared too long.
Yahiko took another long drag of his cancer stick, exhaled a puffy cloud, then held the stunted stick between his lips as he sifted through the information file he’d read over and over about the most dangerous, most prolific target he’d ever had in his entire career.
Naruto Uzumaki.
Age: Twenty-seven.
Birthday: October 10, 1985.
Born to Kushina Uzumaki and Minato Namikaze, the former having spent much of her life in and out of mental institutions before birthing her son. Yahiko glanced down at the death certificate lying on his desk beneath an old photo of the sad, worn down redheaded woman, glancing over the sticky note he’d tacked on to the document: ‘Suicide. One hour after giving birth.’
A tragic end to a very tragic woman.
He’d spent two weeks going through her psychiatric records, a history so extensive it took up two rows of his little filing cabinet even though he still didn’t have all the records quite yet. There was no denying that woman had suffered greatly in her short lifetime.
His eyes swiveled to the father of his target.
Wild blonde hair, cold sapphire eyes, same unnerving dead-eyed stare at the camera, without a doubt Naruto Uzumaki was all his father. A former illustrious businessman, suspected human trafficker, and now MIA, along with his second wife. Shortly after losing custody of his son and finding himself staring down the barrel of the judicial system, Minato Namikaze had gone to ground and hadn’t come up for air since. There was speculation he no longer resided in the country, but, no one had been able to confirm the information.
Exhaling nicotine, he turned and grabbed another file hanging off the pile on the top right corner of his messy desk.
At age five, Naruto was taken into foster care where he spent most of his childhood.
In and out of psychiatric facilities like his mother, trouble with the law like his father. Taxing the juvenile justice system to the max. His last court appearance, the judge on his case had been ready to put him away until he turned twenty-one, but his case worker, Jiraiya, managed to talk her down to probation, sighting his traumatic formative years and mental health conditions despite the long rap sheet the boy had wracked up in such a short period of time.
He was marked a runaway at the age of fifteen after hospitalizing his homeroom teacher, traumatizing the poor man into early retirement.
The next three years were a blank period.
No sign, no record, no information on his whereabouts.
Records would resurface after the three years with Naruto enlisting in the army on his eighteenth birthday, though, Yahiko found the documents a bit strange. There was missing pieces of information, and discrepancies that, on their own, weren’t out of the ordinary for the time period, or a big deal in the long run, but considering the person in question spent most of his life on the wrong side of the law, Yahiko couldn’t help the nagging sensation that something wasn’t quite right about the enlistment.
He turned his attention back to the evidence board as more recent information ran like a movie reel through his head.
Four and a half-years active-duty before receiving an honorable discharge following an injury. With a promising military career cut short, the ever resourceful Naruto Uzumaki returned to the city of his birth and linked up with the Salamander Street Gang, going by the name Screws, if their intel could be trusted. Within two years, and most likely with the ill-gotten gains of his drug dealing and gang related endeavors, Naruto started an on the books business in the private security industry.
For the next five years, he climbed.
Tossing Hanzō from his throne and placing himself at SSG’s helm, renaming and reshaping as he saw fit.
Cannibalizing smaller pockets of power and consolidating it under the banner Nukenin.
Dominating the legal business realm, pursuing several lucrative contracts nationally and internationally. Spawning other smaller businesses; two casinos, a night club and other store fronts he undoubtedly sold drugs and laundered money through.
Turning himself into a juggernaut of influence and wealth most could only dream of acquiring in a single lifetime.
…and therein lay the crux of the problem.
Naruto Uzumaki and Nukenin had become a force to be reckoned with.
And if left unchecked, they’d become untouchable.
Orange brows creasing, Yahiko slid his ashtray beneath his cigarette just as an inch of ash dropped, landing safely inside the little black circle brimming with a mountain of cigarette buds. Puffing anew, he tracked the various lines, pictures, sticky notes and newspaper snippets emitting from that one grim mugshot at the top of a convoluted, complex empire.
Reaching up, the forty-two-year-old detective rubbed his aching eyes.
Just looking at the overwhelming amount of intricate entanglements, high profile players and mind-numbing details was enough to give him the mother of all headaches.
A familiar creaking drew him from his mini stress session.
His hand dropped to watch his office door slowly swing on its hinges, the unexpected visitor still knocking as it swung open, defeating the purpose of knocking in the first place.
He knew who it was considering she was the only one that did that.
“Knew I’d find you here,” Konan sighed, sliding inside and shutting the door behind her, “did you even go home last night?”
Even as she asked, her amber eyes tagged the blanket and pillow hanging half hazard on the beat-up old couch shoved against the wall to the right of his door, just beyond the three filing cabinets on the adjacent wall that shared his wooden, single glass door.
His office wasn’t very big, though it was certainly more sizable than he was used to, but with the couch and evidence board taking up most of the space, it felt more like a hole in a wall. Yahiko preferred it that way, however, less space, surrounded by the elements of his case helped him focus and weed out the little details that led to big breakthroughs.
“I’ll go home tonight,” he muttered, pushing his ashtray aside to shuffle the papers that had frustrated him not five minutes ago.
Suspicious wire transfers from a confirmed member of Nukenin to a company offshore.
All clean, all verified and validated.
Another lead shot to hell.
“You said that yesterday,” she reminded him, hands on hips as she planted herself on the right side of his desk, fully blocking the evidence board taking up the rest of the wall his couch hadn’t claimed, “and the day before that.”
Her scent filled the confined space, battling the potent smell of nicotine for dominance.
Unbidden, memories arose, his mind recalling another time her scent had lingered in his office.
A late night meeting where pouring over details of a case turned into something else entirely.
A sweaty, writhing, out-of-this-world something that couldn’t happen again.
It was hard to stay true to that resolve when the settings of another tryst was staring him in the face. Late work hours, nearly empty building floor, and Konan Taue glaring at him in her form fitting, navy blue pen-skirt over matching colored pumps, breasts outlined in a crisp white dress shirt. Pretty blue hair shining as it dangled just above her collar bones, drawing his eyes to those breasts he’d licked and squeezed-
“And how many of these have you smoked in the last hour,” she grumbled, snagging his cigarette straight from his mouth, her annoyed glare deepening as she searched for a place to put it out among the tower of buds in his ashtray.
“You shouldn’t be here either Konan,” he reminded her gently, exhaling the residual smoke in his lungs.
He’d had this uncomfortable conversation with her the morning after their mistake, confessing, while he had enjoyed himself immensely, a vast understatement, they should avoid a repeat, and the best way to do that was to refrain from meeting in places and situations where they’d be tempted to cross that unprofessional boundary again.
Though her eyes lost a measure of spark, and dipped to the hardwood beneath her feet she said, “I have just as much of a reason not to repeat that night as you do. We’re too old to dance around the subject and avoid each other like horny teenagers that can’t control themselves otherwise,” she twisted her wedding ring on her finger, the one her husband had bought, the motion making his own wedding band, the one his wife picked out, burn around his finger, as she continued softly, “we…made a mistake…but, as two sensible adults, we should be able to put it behind us and move on.”
Should and will were two opposite outcomes on a long spectrum of possibilities, and Yahiko was ‘too old’ to pretend they weren’t closer to ‘should’ than ‘will’.
“I came to talk to you about the Uzumaki case,” she pivoted, clearing her throat and running her hands over the wrinkles in her skirt that she only saw when she was nervous or uncomfortable.
Another subject of contention.
Melting back into his chair, Yahiko settled in for the long haul, the headache beating behind his eyes melding to his temples.
“Shoot.”
“Reconsider sending Asuma.”
He shook his head, longing to light up again, but knowing Konan would confiscate his lighter if he did, “we both know Asuma is our best man for infiltration. He’s had the most experience working undercover and spent the most time studying Nukenin. His high intellect and rough exterior makes him much more likely to not only blend in with Nukenin, but advance up the ranks quickly. His ability to think on his feet and plan far ahead puts him at an advantage and boosts his chance of success and survival higher than anyone else we could send.”
“Well, yes,” Konan conceded, “but he’s also risking exposure. As you said, he’s been undercover the longest, he’s been involved with other criminal ring take downs over the years, and even if others don’t connect the dots, Nine is paranoid enough to question it if he sees a pattern despite the years in between each take down.”
A frown tugged at his lips, but he didn’t refute her point.
Asuma hadn’t gone undetected by Nukenin, in fact, he made it a point for its members to take note of him around their turf; a subtle ploy to foster a ‘natural’ gravitation to other members that could potentially put him in a position to solicit an invitation to join them.
However, as Konan pointed out, Nine was a paranoid bastard.
They wouldn’t let Asuma anywhere near their inner circle without looking into him thoroughly.
“The Zetsu twins aren’t very well known on the streets, they’re less likely to be recognized as an undercover officer,” she suggested, “they don’t have anywhere near the amount of experience as Sarutobi, but the skills they’ve demonstrated in the time they’ve been assigned are unmatched, even when compared to Asuma’s rookie years.”
Another truth.
If he was being honest, it was a bit concerning how well the Zetsu’s fit in with the hardcore criminal crowd…
“Their infiltration skills is exactly why they weren’t selected to pose as gang member recruits,” Yahiko countered, “Nukenin is primarily a cartel, they ship and import large amounts of coke across international waters and rake in millions each shipment, however, they also have their hands in a number of side hustles that are just as lucrative as the drug trade. Strip clubs, casinos, diamond trade, art auctions, many of these businesses are storefronts to launder money, host underground fights, and run illegal gambling rings. A large portion of them are run by lieutenants and sub sets but they are components of Nukenin. Taking out a few of the sturdier legs that keep Nukenin afloat will give us a better chance to take down the head. We’ll need Mashiro and Miku to penetrate these areas and collect information. They’ll be able to cover more ground than Asuma alone since there’s two of them.”
Finally, he threw out his trump card, the information delivered from Asuma just this evening.
“Right now, Asuma is in a unique position, he’s been undercover in Iwa, ingraining himself among Akuta’s rank. With Shi’s gang effectively dismantled, there’s a lot of in-fighting among those left over, and Akuta is looking to capitalize on the chaos. However, they don’t pack enough power to fully reign in Shi’s leftovers and fend off other gangs trying to assert themselves at the top of the feeding frenzy. From what he’s heard, Nukenin has taken Akuta off probation and is backing their takeover of Iwa. He’s hoping to facilitate a meeting with Nukenin members that should be in route to back up Akuta, and hopefully gain an invitation to become a Nukenin associate with his time in Akuta as a reference.”
That instilled more confidence in his decision, he could see the calculations running behind her amber eyes.
“It’s nice to see you’re no longer against taking action against Nukenin,” he stated.
She frowned at him, “I wasn’t against moving against Nukenin, it’s just…”
He waited, truly interested in where her initial resistance stemmed from.
“I just think…maybe we’re a little in over our heads here.”
“Konan-”
“Nukenin is not some small time street gang,” Konan reminded him, “they’re an international cartel of coldblooded killers, and as much as we don’t like it, they’re propping up a lot of small, but important countries to Hi no Kuni, taking them out might disrupt the international stage. We should at least contact the federal-”
“The feds aren’t going to go after them and neither is this department. Both have been dragging their asses in dismantling Nukenin. Hanzō was consistently pressed, the feds and KPD constantly breathing down their necks, but neither organization has taken an interest in applying anymore pressure since Nine took over,” Yahiko growled, frustration bleeding through his calm facade, “I may not be able to prove it, but Nukenin is pulling their strings somehow, or maybe they’ve compromised enough higher ups to gut investigations before they gain any traction. Nine’s been arrested more times than I can count, and what was the result? Too many acquittals, a few pathetic stints in jail and probationary slaps on the wrist. I don’t say this lightly Konan, but, we’re on our own here.”
Though, Yahiko did have a trump card that would hopefully mitigate most of the political fallout.
Nukenin wasn’t the larges cartel operating in the region, however, the medium sized drug ring had their hands in quite a few, very important, very vital national and international power structures.
Small nations with valuable natural resources or necessary aerial space but ineffective governments and vulnerable boarders Nukenin personally or paid to be strengthened and defended at a lower financial and political cost than surrounding allies or would-be international trade partners offered. Little island nations that controlled important oceanic trade routes and doubled as critical docking and resupply ports along extremely unpredictable and volatile waters that could cause problems for really big nations should they interfere with the smuggling operation Nukenin fostered and maintained that kept these impoverished landmasses afloat.
Larger nations, Hi no Kuni included, couldn’t afford to piss off or make hostile these smaller nations that depended on Nukenin for components of their survival. Because of this, these overseas republics and dictatorships refused to assist in any investigations or dismantling of Nukenin, leveraging their resources and cooperation across dangerous water to pressure Hi no Kuni and others to leave the cartel alone.
These key placements made the technically medium sized cartel stand more like a giant.
Working smarter not harder, scarily effective.
That’s what made it so dangerous to remove Nukenin, and even more dangerous to let them continue.
The former, however, Yahiko had plans to remove from the equation, if he played this right, if the man that approached him five years ago could be believed, there wouldn’t be a total collapse when Nukenin was ultimately dismantled.
He just had to keep pushing forward, and perhaps, when he felt Konan was fully on board, he could let her in on the true battle taking place in the background.
Shoulders losing their starch, Konan nodded, “I know that…”
“This is our city, we have a sworn duty to protect it, with or without federal intervention.”
“I agree, protecting Konoha is our duty, but we have to be realistic about the scope of our abilities, and the consequences of every action we take. You and I both know taking out a giant like Nukenin is risky, not just for us but those we’re trying to protect. We’d be leaving a massive vacuum in the underground world for the smaller fish to fight over,” she told him, “even if we’re successful, we’d throw this city into chaos and have it turn into a war zone like Iwa is right now.”
“So what do you propose we do. Allow Nukenin to continue unchecked?”
“Of course not, Yahiko, that’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe we should set our sights a bit…smaller. At least until we have the back up and resources to deal with Nukenin.”
“You know that’s not gonna happen,” he told her quietly.
It would have happened by now, long before now, years ago when the first rumors of a ruthless underling named Screws began a hostile take over of the moderate sized gang tough as nails Hanzō had maintained for nearly three decades. Hanzō being one of the most ambitious, most brutal kingpins the city had ever been forced to endure, brought to his knees by a random enforcer that topped Hanzō’s cruelty in such a way that it cowed the underworld as a whole, should have been a wailing warning siren to every law enforcement body in Konoha to put a stop to that infection before it spread.
No one had.
And now, that infection had spread far beyond Konoha’s city limits.
“Listen, Konan, I understand where you’re coming from, and you’re not wrong. Everything you’re worried about I’m worried about too,” so much so, sometimes, it kept him up at night, “but, we can’t just sit around and hope someone else will get off their ass and save this city. We have to take a stand.”
Gaze boring into her resigned ones, he laid out one of his trump cards he could reveal, a silent ultimatum that was ascruel as it was effective.
“I need to know if you’re with me on this.”
There was no hesitation.
“I’m with you,” she replied, her voice quieting as she said the part that went against the rules he’d laid out for them following the tryst that had rocked his world,“always, Yahiko.”
-
Half an hour before ten, far earlier than he’d ever called it quits in nearly a decade, Yahiko locked up his office, balancing a box of unread financial records, criminal profiles and contemporary notes on his hip. It was dark in the hallway, some energy saving mode the overhead lights tapped into towards the end of the night. He took himself and his box to the nearest elevator, pressed the button and waited. The late hour ensured it wasn’t long, its metal doors sliding open a few seconds later. Yahiko stepped inside, hit the one, and leaned back against the far wall as it began its descent to the lobby.
He sighed, closing his eyes as his conscience screamed in the absence of work related distraction.
This situation with Konan was fucked, and what he did earlier hadn’t lightened the guilt ridden burden he carried whenever he saw her face. And once again, he’d given her the shit end of the stick with his ultimatum, the least he could do was go home instead of camping out in his office like she asked him to.
Not that going home was any easier to bear than being here facing his sins day in and day out.
His guilt was unbearable in the home he shared with his wife, burning him from the inside out as the woman he’d been married to for nearly twenty years smiled and loved on him as she always had, blissfully ignorant to the adulterer she slept next to whenever he could be bothered to drag his ass home.
The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and bright florescent stung his eyes.
Completely opposite of the upper floor he’d left, reception on the ground level was a flurry of activity. Graveyard shift patrol officers heading to their vehicles, front desk clerks hard at work in front of a series of monitors and ringing phones.
He passed by a collection of newbies with a nod and ignored the collection of glaring seniors off to the side.
Rounding the wide reception desk, he was midway through the lobby when a woman stepped through the tinted glass doors.
Beautiful. Classy. Confident.
She was a woman he knew well, one he’d seen plastered across his television screen and networking in this very department.
Swathed in a tapered, knee-length, cream colored skirt that traced the tantalizing curve of her hips and the narrowness of her cinched waist; her matching jacket left open to contrast the darkness of the camisole outlining the generous swell of her breasts, amongst the crowd of uniformed men and women of the force, she stood out like a sore thumb, but he knew, had seen, even in a room of distinct and unique individuals, this woman in particular shined.
She spotted him immediately.
Predatory jade eyes taking his measure, calculating his threat level and finding him lacking. Her plush lips curled upward as she strutted in his direction turning more than a few heads as her stilettos clicked across gleaming tile, the sound akin to a declaration of war.
Yahiko steeled himself, grip tightening on his box as he prepared to do battle.
“Mabui Uchiha,” Yahiko drawled as the white-haired woman stepped within speaking range.
“Detective Yahiko,” Mabui greeted with friendly formality, “it’s nice to see you again.”
Though soured by the feigned friendliness, Yahiko resigned to keep a straight face as he countered, “a bit late to be seeing you here.”
“I’m here to speak with your Chief,” she replied, gleaming green eyes cold as an arctic blizzard despite the amiable smile etched on her burgundy painted lips, “as you know, this department has dealt with an unfortunate and alarming influx of scandals in the last few years. Many in the community, and indeed myself, are quite concerned.”
Yahiko’s jaw tightened, his valiant attempt to keep his expression neutral wearing thin.
He’d mellowed over the years, his once short-temper on a much longer time delay, even so, there were a few things that still pushed his buttons. Individuals that easily, effectively, exposed chinks in his thick armor and pressed as many of those buttons they could find.
Individuals like Mabui Uchiha.
“I wouldn’t be much of a representative if I didn’t personally evaluate the situation, and discuss with the head of the department what steps are necessary to curtail anymore…misconduct,” she stated, the steel colored bangs escaping her neat, complicated bun sliding east as her head tilted in a way the overworked detective found condescending, “police corruption and accountability is a hot button issue for the voters of Konoha, after all.”
Yahiko grimaced.
While he held a deep dislike and distrust of Mabui Uchiha, what she said was no lie.
The department had been through one scandal after another in the last five years.
Bribery. Excessive force. Witness tampering. Evidence tampering. Drug peddling. Planting evidence. Sexual harassment. Sexual abuse.
Name any form of official misconduct, KPD had been involved.
Was still involved.
Yahiko knew many of the ‘bad apples’ hadn’t been charged and removed from the force, that they wouldn’t be caught or reprimanded because much of the rot that plagued the department started at the top. Every shady procedure and corrupt action that had given the entire agency a black eye with the public remained, only now, they were more careful to keep it under wraps. Though he was desperate to one day clean up his department, Yahiko realized he’d need to up his profile to get where he needed to be, to thrust himself into the eye and consciousness of the public. He’d plateaued, or rather, hit a glass ceiling constructed by those allergic to integrity and accountability and uninterested in his brand of honor. Trying to climb rank without blackening his soul entirely was impossible, but with enough scrutiny on the actions of those at the top, and an alternative the citizens of Konoha could stand behind, he could force the change this department needed.
However…
A mid-level detective didn’t stand a chance at ousting the current Chief and taking his place.
Busting the most notorious cartel in Konoha, however, would propel him faster than grinding smaller cases as he had been for the last decade. He needed to put his name on the map; to garner the type of support that could withstand the push back he’d receive from his corrupt superiors.
Speaking along the lines of corruption…
If Mabui Uchiha was here poking around, he’d need to run an even tighter ship to ensure information of Akatsuki’s operations didn’t go any further than its members.
He was confident he’d sifted through enough scum with badges and found the few officers that still practiced integrity or, as in the twins case, hadn’t been here long enough to contract the rot, though, one could never be completely certain. And even if he had unearthed diamonds in the rough, there was no guarantee they’d remain that way. Mabui was a smooth talker, a convincing liar and accomplished conwoman that could turn the purist angel to sin and still come away clean. Let her get her claws into his team, and Yahiko could expect every move they made to be broadcast back to Nine himself.
Underestimating Mabui was an exercise in stupidity.
The woman had her hands in everything, her and that high powered attorney husband of hers.
“And this meeting with the Chief had to take place in the dead of night?” he drawled, brow raised over suspicious brown eyes.
“Unorthodox to be sure,” she conceded, giving him another of her pseudo warm, placid smiles that was, disturbingly, just the right amount of practiced ruefulness, “unfortunately, our schedules only seemed to align at this late hour, and, with an issue this important, I didn’t think it wise to put this conversation off another six months.”
Bullshit.
“Most importantly, I want to work towards reconnecting with the hardworking men and women of KPD, now that the dust has settled,” she stated delicately, “despite the many…challenges this department faces, maintaining a close relationship between our respective institutions is important. I, being a lawmaker and you all, law enforcers, we both have the same goals in mind do we not?”
Not goddamn likely.
His responding grunt could be taken as affirmation or dissension.
“A safer, more prosperous, and ethically policed city,” she supplied to his non-verbal answer.
“Right,” he agreed, narrowed gaze speaking volumes she in turn ignored.
“Would you like to sit and chat as well, Detective Yahiko?” she asked, “reassure the concerned citizens of Konoha that this department will continue to keep its nose clean. Perhaps, make a statement about any new, consequential investigations in our future?”
Fuck.
Too late to try and batten down the hatches before she got a whiff of their covert operation.
That question confirmed his worst suspicions.
Mabui Uchiha already knew too much.
“Unfortunately there isn’t anything new or consequential I could tell you that you don’t already know, Representative Uchiha,” he replied, adding an edge to his voice as he followed up with, “considering your schedule is so packed you’ve had to extend your work hours this late, I’d hate to waste your time with old news.”
She nodded, her pretty face one of understanding and pleasantry, “I appreciate your consideration.”
“Of course,” he replied, shifting his box, “if you’ll excuse me-”
“If memory serves me correctly,” the beautiful pain-in-his-ass continued, “you were the lead investigator assigned to the murder of my husband’s late brother, Itachi Uchiha, were you not?”
Yahiko grimaced.
Itachi Uchiha’s unsolved murder was still a sore subject twelve years later.
His first major case, back when he was a thirty-year-old upstart freshly promoted to homicide investigator, becoming a bit cocky after obtaining Itachi’s case, certainly underestimating the difficulty of his new title.
At the time, Itachi’s gruesome murder had been a very high profile case, though not entirely due to the gory details, though those alone were more than enough to thrust it into the spotlight. Beaten to a pulp, shot in the head and left to burn in a trailer. Not exactly the run-of-the-mill gun violence homicide Konoha was used to, made even more sickly once the autopsy report revealed Itachi hadn’t died from the gunshot, as evidenced by the smoke in his lungs.
Those horrifying facts were nearly eclipsed by the even more horrifying past of the victim in question.
Previously charged, tried and found not guilty by reason of insanity for the murder of his family and the attempted murder of his younger brother, Sasuke Uchiha. Following that controversial ruling, Itachi was remanded into a mental health facility for treatment. A mere thirteen years later, not nearly long enough for many among the public, Itachi Uchiha was released. The young man tasted freedom for a short time before meeting his brutal demise.
Itachi’s trial and death was still a polarizing topic to this day.
And the cold case that resulted, still a blemish on Yahiko’s record.
“Yes,” he answered, wondering why now, in all the time they’d briefly spoken, she brought up a fact she had to have known for years, “though the case has been cold for over a decade. Do you have any new information, has your husband remembered anything that might help crack the case?”
She shook her head, looking truly distraught as she answered, “unfortunately no,” her jade eyes sharpened, expression sliding into something neutral that raised the hairs at his nape, “I was merely going to offer you a bit of advice.”
She shortened the distance between them.
Her perfume, something bold and seductive weaving around his senses.
“I’m a very ambitious woman, and I recognize that same drive in you, detective. You and I, we tend to be tunnel-visioned creatures with an insatiable appetite for success,” she stated quietly, her words a whispered secret between them, “but this hunger can be a double edge sword, cutting us to ribbons should we not take care around its sharp edges. I mean this with all do respect and kindness, and I do hope you’ll forgive my frankness detective, but, if a simple murder of a drug addicted disgrace is too difficult a case for you to solve, perhaps investigating crimes more substantial than that is a stretch above your abilities.”
She stepped back from him, leaving behind a festering cauldron of fury the likes of which he hadn’t felt in years.
“I like you, Detective Yahiko,” she told him pleasantly, heels clicking as she navigated around him, her strut slow enough to deliver one last parting comment, “and I’d hate to see you crushed beneath the weight of your own, passionate, albeit, misguided ambition.”
Yahiko stood in the lobby long after she had left, teeth grinding as the steady flow of uniformed officers passed him by.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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