Colors exploded in the night sky as the clocks ticked down to the last hour of the current year.
Blue, red, yellow, and white were the predominant colors filling up the cloudless sky. People's were phones out taking pictures of the scene before them. There were hundreds of them outside, marveling at the light display that was a fitting event to end the year.
The police were on high alert this evening, With all the events happening in every part of the city, vigilance and safety was their utmost priority.
Mace's Office thought, was not affected by the alertness of their comrades. The three people in RD or the Remnant Division knew the protocol, all hand on deck, blah-blah-blah- but it was never for them.
Their division has no jurisdiction as to what the other office were doing. They might help every now and then, but everyone knew the sole people who were in RD were the most work-a-holic.
It seems like New Year was the only time for them to ease that workload that never seemed to stop.
The sound of fresh grinding coffee beans broke the silence inside the room. Other than the occasional boom in the sky, the silent ticking of the metronome on the coffee table, and the hum of the AC, the room was surprisingly silent.
Mace was sitting on the chair that was near the window, her gaze on the sky, as if she was waiting for another set of fireworks to explode. Je Anne was busy painting, an array of tubes on her table was scattered, while their Division Chief Jerome, was waiting for his beans to stop grinding.
All of them were busy in their own way. This year was the slowest they had. The number of cases they unearthed was five, and all were dead ends. It was frustrating to say think that they did not solve anything this year.
"Why should I even give them a budget if they are not even doing their job?"
The station chief said. Her words were harsh, and it cut them. Then again, it was not truly their fault that cold cases tend to die. It will take a miracle to revive the dead. Just like a living creature, their cases also need divine intervention.
Sadly they haven't received any.
"It's alright ma'am, this was not our worst year. Detective Mace and Detective Je Anne are the best among everyone, I mean, we are handling cold cases, what do you think are the chances of it being hot again?"
Chief Jerome's answer was met with silence. The station chief did not know how to respond to something so blatant. So in your face.
They were called cold cases for a reason. If she didn't use her brain…
Mace glanced at her phone, a notification from W News flashed on her screen. She smiled. Her friends at this particular news station just sent her a picture. A picture wherein all of them were crammed in a photo. Reporters were a pain, but these bunch? They were the only reporters this particular division collaborated with.
An eye for an eye. A NEWS for justice. The truth without bias.
They jive, hence a deep sense of connection has been made. The president of the company and the rest of its staff work alongside RD.
"B*tch," Jerome suddenly said out of the blue. The two woman in the room only looked at him, waiting for something more, when he remained silent, they shrugged, went back to whatever they were doing.
"No matter what she say, we are doing what we can, never let her words bother you."
The statement was delivered once the beans were done. He carefully measured some of it to the coffee machine they had in their office. In a matter of minutes the aroma of Batangas Coffee filled the room.
It was earthy and pungent, making both women look at the man who had brewed it.
"You okay?" Mace asked. Getting up from her seat, she grabbed her tall mug and sat on the sofa at the middle of the room.
Je Anne abandoned her paints and got her mug as well. She occupied the other sofa and looked at the man behind the table, then asked, "Something bothering you?"
"That…"
There were no words that left to be said, they all knew who he was referring to. Their station chief was…
"The number of cases we had are still the same, we just need to find new leads as to where we can get them…" Mace let the rest of the words fade.
Je Anne nodded. "The probability of finding them is almost 99.9% zero -"
"But not 100%," Jerome interrupted. "Something is bound to appear. Not all secrets can be buried forever. There will be slips-up, and those are the things we need to look for."
He was right. In a country where people tend to flaunt what they have, there will be mistakes. Mistakes that could cause people to reveal what they are hiding.
"How old was the oldest one we have? One year? And the only reason it became cold was the lack of supporting evidence. The rest were unusable, the police and the people who handled the case was never adept in handing normal cases. For them, the higher the stakes, the better."
But what about those who were under the radar?
"We do what we can with everything we have. Our division's motto is "Corpus Juris" for nothing."
His words were followed by a burst of fireworks. The night sky behind him filled with colors like it was agreeing with what he said.
They were "a body of law" something the whole station laughed about. They were a joke, but none can do what they could.
Julie Mace Valentino, a woman who possesses an IQ of 160, and has a Remote viewing since she was nine years old. Her mind also had an innate memory that is semantic.
She has a wavy dark, messy hair with subtle silver highlights. Her large, expressive eyes were prominent, framed by dark, thick lashes. The eyeglasses she wore gave her a focused and intense gaze that some find it uncomfortable. She has a delicate, straight nose and well-defined eyebrows that enhance her defiant expression. Her lips are soft and slightly curved, adding a touch of subtle elegance to her face.
Je Anne Veloso, a renowned painter and has a photographic memory. She uses her skills to bring to life the scenes of each murder place. Even if she had seen the place once and painted it after 5 months or longer, it will be the exact replica of the original scene.
A woman with medium-length wavy hair wearing glasses with round frames. She usually wears a warm smile, the only make-up she wore was her red lipstick, and had a light complexion that was prone to sunburn.
And then there is Jerome Valderama. His neatly styled short hair looked like his fingers was constantly run through it. His rectangular framed glasses were on the table. His facial expression that was usually calm and composed was not present. He looked like he wanted to straggle someone. His clean-shaven face was cover in stubble, an indication that he hasn't gone home.
There were no words to describe his ability. A man that knows several languages, and has a doctoral degree in medicine and criminal psychology, and is currently studying international law for some reasons. Jerome was called "Homes" in the station for a reason.
They were only three people, and yet the power they had at their disposal was enough to change the whole world. Their connection was strong to people no one dares to mess with. Yet here they were, being treated like locos.
"They can laugh at us all they want, but in the end of the day, we know who and what we can do. So to hell with the shit they say."
Mace and Je Anne smiled. He was right, they are who they are, and no matter what people tell me otherwise, doesn't matter.
With their cups filled with the hot brew, the gave a toast. A each with a silent prayer, and when the clock struck twelve and another burst of color exploded in the sky a scream of terror filled another alley not far from them.
A new chapter had begun…