In a large hall, newsmen crowded around a stage.
Cameramen fiddled with wires, setting images, running tests, Reporters and journalists touched makeup.
Flint walked into the hall in company of the chief and few other officers, his face betraying none of the anger and barrage of emotions he was feeling at the moment.
He held a folder in hand.
It was a week since the kidnap of his children.
He'd just gotten off the phone with that bastard of a man Miguel.
The wicked cunt had chosen today to let him speak with his children.
He even did it on video.
He could see them, literally touch them through his phone screen.
Paul appeared to be asleep, dried blood was stuck to his skin and his hair, his cheeks looked hollow.
He needed medical attention... Flint didn't need a soothsayer to tell him that.
Fayth wasn't looking any better.
She looked thinner than Flint had ever seen her in her adolescent to adulthood life.
They both looked like shit.
Flint's heart broke.
He was glad he wasn't answering the damn call at home, Shonda would gone hysterical.
All the same, he knew why the wicked cunt was calling him at this exact moment.
They wanted to make sure his head was still in the game.
What better way to guarantee he wouldn't fuck up but giving him a bit of something he wished for and at the same time, remembering him if something he had no control over.
"as you obviously can see, they're alive and well" Miguel drawled, sitting in front of the camera, after he had put Fayth and Paul on display.
"barely" Flint replied through gritted teeth.
Miguel gave a toothy grin in response.
"whatever you choose to believe Flint...you know what you have to do...there isn't supposed to be any slip up...no change of heart Last minute are we clear?" Miguel added.
"else..." he continued, before proceeding to produce a pistol and release the safety then he pointed it dramatically at the camera, before he released air from his lips, mimicking the sound of a bullet.
"I'll be right there with you, watching.... just make one wrong move"
Then he began to laugh hysterically before he reached towards the camera and the screen went black.
Flint bunched up his wrists in anger.
He got up, paced around a bit and let out a frustrated growl then he screamed.
He screamed as loud as his lungs would permit him, running his hands through his hair.
The loud ringing of his phone made him stop.
He grabbed it and had all but smashed it against the wall before he glanced at the caller id and his hands hung midway.
It was the damn idiot of a chief.
"what is it boss?" he said, the moment he picked up the phone, with emphasis on the 'boss' not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone.
The chief ignored him.
"you're up in few minutes...no slip ups" the chief said and dropped the call.
Flint exhaled a harsh breath.
The moment he walked on stage with the other men, the buzz in the hall died down.
They all knew who he was.
Everyone knew he was Flint Kennedy, the man in charge of the Hart case and so far, there hadn't been any leads.
They knew the conference had something to do with it, but he didn't know what.
As he stepped on stage, he swallowed hard. He was nervous as hell.
To lie in front of all these people.
He wondered if he could put on a straight face while committing the act.
He walked up to the podium and took position behind the Microphone.
He scanned the crowd for that son of a bitch.
No trace of him..well apparently so, but Flint knew better...the cunt really might be watching he didn't need to be physically present to do that.
Same as those he called his bosses.
Flint had to behave.
As he began to speak, it felt as though his mouth moved on its own accord.
".....in light of this and the recent evidence brought forth, after rigorous interrogation, testimonies from various witnesses, The Adam Hart case is hence closed. It was a simple robbery gone wrong.
We urge the press to..."
Flint paused and took a swig of the bottled water in front of him then he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief before he continued.
"we urge the press to desist from spreading baseless and unfound rumors at this time, and only publish the truth. The Hart estate will be released to the only surviving relative, William Hart" Flint said gesturing to a William who was smiling from ear to ear as though he'd won the fucking lottery with one hand, while the other was at his side, his nails digging into his palm.
William the smiling idiot displayed his 32 as he climbed the podium and shook hands with Flint, still smiling as he received the documents to the Hart estate.
Of course all necessary transactions and backyard deals had already been conducted and concluded behind close doors.
They were just putting on a damn show for the public.
William received them, the stupid plastered smile not leaving his face for a second and stood to the side.
The press men just looked on as though they were watching a scene from a stupid hilarious movie.
The moment Flint had announced the closure of the case, whispers broke out across the hall.
The entire business seemed like one stupid bad ugly joke.
'A robbery?...oh they could do much better!'
The chief took to the podium as Flint stepped off, after handing over the documents.
There! he'd done it.
He'd been the official idiot.
He was tired of the whole drama and before the night was over, he still has one more announcement to make.
"now we will entertain questions" he began. Before he'd completed his statement, hands shot up from every corner of the hall.
"you there...the lady in blue" he said, pointing at a reporter in a blue dress with glasses on the bridge of her nose and freckles dotting her face.
She stood up and adjusted her glasses, glanced at her notepad before she began to speak.
"chief ... the police say it is a robbery correct?"
The chief nodded.
"well if it is, what about the bodies uncovered at the mansion? all those people murdered for few jeweleries and trinkets? how exactly was this particular conclusion reached" she added.
Her question elicted nods from others. Apparently, they were in agreement.
Literally everyone in the hall had the same thoughts as she did.
"the police are not at liberty to discuss our methods with members of the public" the chief began then he paused and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.
Flint was happy to see the cunt in a bundle of nerves.
It felt good to see him utterly uncomfortable standing there.
If the sharks were going to devour him, well let them go ahead.
Flint would have released an evil grin if it wasn't for the cameras and his children still held at lord knows where.
Right now, he was going to abide by their rules.
"facts and evidence have been gathered, which brought about a close to the investigation... our conclusion will also not be shared with the press" the chief continued.
"why does that answer sound elusive sir" came another voice in the hall.
"who was that" the chief asked, but no one fessed up.
"any more questions?" he asked and the hall became abuzz instantly.
Everyone began speaking at the same time, some tried to get on stage but we're prevented by the officers who stood on guard.
"that will be all ladies and gentlemen" the chief said and stepped off, other officers in tow also stood, but Flint walked back to the podium.
"I have an announcement to make" he said, making the chief and other officers halt in their tracks.
The chief whirled around suddenly.
That was totally unexpected and it definitely wasn't in the script.
What was Flint trying to do? he wondered.
William went back up the stage to the chief the moment Flint broke line.
"what is the meaning of this..we are supposed to be done with this entire business... this is not a part of the script" he said, eyeing Flint.
"I don't know what he's up to...he was supp..posed to follow... he agreed to fo...fo..llow... I have no hand in this" the Chief stuttered nervously, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
He reached for his handkerchief and wiped his face nervously.
He felt like vanishing under William's intense dark gaze.
"for both your sakes, he better not do anything stupid" William replied, his voice dropping ice.
Flint glanced at the chief and William, enjoying their utter nervousness.
The pressmen literally leaned forward on their seats, everywhere went dead silent.
There were more than 150 people in the hall, but if a pin dropped, the sound would definitely be heard.