Ivan didn't reply immediately, the weight of the situation settling over him. "So I'm guessing we don't have any leads on her current whereabouts?"
Snowden shook his head. "Nothing in San Francisco, which means it's almost certain she ended up in Oakland. That's where the trail leads."
"At least we're headed in the right direction," Ivan murmured, more to himself than to Snowden. "Print me a copy of her information. I'll need it."
Snowden hesitated for a moment, but nodded. Ivan was technically an external employee now, so there were no rules against sharing the file. He waved over a junior officer, who began making the necessary copies.
While waiting, Ivan leaned back in his chair again. "There's something else I need," he said casually.
Snowden looked up, curious. "What's that?"
"I want to know the current situation with the black factions in San Francisco."
Snowden squinted at him, clearly suspicious. "You think this has something to do with Oakland?"
Ivan nodded. "It's possible. Think about it, Oakland is like a rat's nest, a place for scavengers and outlaws. San Francisco, on the other hand, is a granary. The two shouldn't coexist unless they're feeding off each other. If Oakland's chaos is spilling over, it's worth investigating."
Snowden mulled this over for a moment before responding. "Alright, but let me remind you, Ivan. Our focus is the kangaroo thief. This case has Congress breathing down our necks over California's lawlessness, and we've got a senator watching our every move. We're not authorized to dive into other matters."
Ivan smirked. "Don't worry, I know my limits. But that brings me to one last thing, additional conditions."
Snowden raised an eyebrow. "What now?"
"First, I want assurances for my safety. Second, I need you to reimburse all expenses I incur during this recruitment process."
"We can reimburse your expenses," Snowden said with a sigh, "but as for your safety? We've got no personnel in Oakland. You're on your own."
Ivan shrugged, his tone growing colder. "That's fine. Then let's make this clear; I reserve the right to terminate my contract the moment I feel my life is in danger. If things get too hot, I'll walk away without taking responsibility for your investigation. And if it comes to it, I might even leak what I know to the other side."
Snowden's jaw tightened, but after a long pause, he nodded. "Fair enough."
Ivan smiled thinly. "Great. Then I'll take those copies now."
As the young officer handed him the papers, Ivan stood, pocketing them with a flick of his wrist. He gave Snowden a lazy salute and made his way toward the exit.
"Good luck," Snowden called after him.
Ivan didn't bother turning back. He had a lot of work ahead of him, and the city of Oakland wasn't going to open its doors without a fight.
Snowden considered Levi's demands for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Finally, he let out a long sigh and nodded. "Alright."
Levi raised an eyebrow. "Alright? Just like that?"
Snowden leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Yes. Alright. But before we move on, I need to hear the rest of your conditions."
"Fair enough," Levi said, settling into his chair with a calculated ease. "Second," he began, "let me emphasize this again: I'm only responsible for the investigation. My role ends when I gather the information you need. The arrest, the fallout, the cleanup; that's all on you."
Snowden tilted his head, listening carefully.
"And," Levi continued, tapping the armrest rhythmically, "if I feel that the situation becomes too dangerous, I retain the right to terminate the investigation. At any time. No questions asked."
Snowden frowned but didn't interrupt.
"Third," Levi said, leaning forward slightly to add weight to his words, "and this is the most critical, whatever I do next, you and your team must cooperate fully. No second-guessing, no pulling punches. I'll need access, resources, and backup when I say so. You'll need to discuss this with your superiors and put it all in writing."
Levi paused, letting the weight of his request sink in. This was no small ask, he was essentially demanding that the entire police department bend to his will. For someone who was technically just a freelance investigator, this was pushing the limits of their arrangement.
"Without your cooperation," Levi continued, his voice firm, "I won't risk entering Oakland. The success of my plan hinges on your support. You'll have to decide if it's worth it."
He leaned back, studying Snowden's expression. To his surprise, the sheriff didn't flinch.
Snowden thought about it briefly, then nodded. "Alright."
Levi blinked. "Just like that? You don't need to check with your superiors?"
Snowden smirked faintly, shaking his head. "No. Or rather, I already know what they'd say. The deputy commissioner came by yesterday. He was very clear that we can't take action until we know the kangaroo thief's exact location. But…" Snowden paused, meeting Levi's gaze with a rare seriousness. "He also told me that we'd approve whatever you asked for, within reason. It seems they anticipated your demands."
Levi considered this for a moment. "Interesting," he said, standing. "I suppose we have a deal, then."
---
After leaving the North Beach Police Station, Levi walked down Lombard Street, the crisp morning air sharpening his focus. He passed the winding road's colorful houses, eventually stopping at an unassuming corner shop. The dark oak facade and large glass windows gave it a stately charm, but the display inside was what caught his attention: firearms of all kinds, meticulously arranged and gleaming in the sunlight.
Levi pushed open the door, the bell above jingling softly. Inside, an Italian man sat behind the counter, casually flipping through a newspaper while sipping a steaming cup of coffee.
Levi placed his Webley revolver on the counter with a soft clink. "Maintenance," he said, "and a box of bullets."
The shopkeeper glanced up, nodding without a word. He set down his paper, pulled on a pair of gloves, and began disassembling the gun with practiced ease. As the man worked, Levi settled into a nearby chair, his thoughts drifting to the complexities of his next move.
In his experience, the mere sight of a gun could often diffuse a situation before it escalated. And when it came to wizards, particularly low-level ones, a well-placed shot could neutralize even the cockiest magic user. Levi knew his own limitations in combat, and his revolver helped bridge the gap between survival and disaster.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Levi turned his head to see a man entering the shop. He was tall and handsome, with sharp features and a long trench coat that billowed slightly as he moved. The stranger carried a sleek shotgun in his hands, which he placed on the counter with a casual familiarity.
"Dad," the man said to the shopkeeper, "give this a tune-up, will you?"
The shopkeeper didn't even look up. "You'll have to wait, Santos. I've got a customer ahead of you."
The man; Santos chuckled and turned to face Levi. His eyes sparkled with mischief. "What's this? No respect for family," he joked, spreading his arms theatrically. "Hey there. I'm Santos Robbins. Are you from Russia?"
Levi gave him a wary nod. "Levi," he said simply, not offering more than his name.
As Santos's gaze lingered on him, Levi felt an uncomfortable tension build in the air. It wasn't anything overt; just a faint, intangible sense of pressure, like standing too close to the edge of a cliff. The feeling wasn't unfamiliar. Levi's instincts as a wizard flared, warning him of something dangerous, something powerful.
Santos wasn't just some ordinary man.
Levi's pulse quickened as his mind raced. This wasn't just intuition, this was a wizard's innate ability to sense a predator in their midst. The aura rolling off Santos wasn't overwhelming, but it was undeniable. Levi pegged him immediately.
B-level.
Levi forced himself to stay calm, offering a faint smile. "Nice to meet you, Santos."
Santos grinned, his sharp eyes twinkling with something akin to amusement. "Likewise," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unspoken challenge. He turned back to the counter, watching as the shopkeeper worked on Levi's gun.
Levi didn't take his eyes off him. He'd stumbled across something significant, though whether Santos would be an ally or a threat was yet to be seen. Either way, it was clear, this trip to the gun shop had just gotten a lot more interesting.