The Brittish Rose tried everything he knew to contact The Sea Horse, including Sea Horse’s network of contacts. He started with The Inspector, Victoria Albertson. She wasn’t part of Oceania Police Department, but she was the only law enforcement brave enough to tackle the West War section of Oceania. Victoria, a private detective originally, had spent years trying to bring order to her home neighborhood with no help.
The Sea Horse found out about her efforts and offered to fund them, no strings attached. For years, she had the nickname of the Inspector, Victoria had now adapted the persona. She had chosen a black and blue trench coat and uniform to reinforce the message that she was pro law and order. Her face mask, a simple silver variation of a fencing helmet, covered her features. Although it did have the edition of a jagged piece of metal shaped like flowing hair.
She was a tall, brown eyed African American woman with background in Korean Martial Arts. Although she preferred not to fight until there was no other alternative. Victoria’s Uncle was an ex member of the Wonzu’s organization who had survived prison. He never told her why the Wonzu let him live, and she never asked.
“I haven’t seen him in two weeks. He said that he had business out of town and asked me to expand my coverage for the next month. I agreed, Loggerhead and I meet near Siegel Heights by the docks.” Loggerhead was a fifty year old computer genius who had been forced into retirement by the criminals who took over his business. Now he fought through back networks, a van, and a set of mini drones armed with stun lasers.
The gray haired, slump shouldered Samoan immigrant wore no mask, but his face was covered by a green translucent visor. He took the name Loggerhead, inspired by his build and tortoise shell glasses. “He said he was needed out of the country, I’m afraid I haven’t seen him.”
The Rose tried a few more contacts, but without success. He knew that he couldn’t attack with a government task force, it had to be a small group. It was then that he got a phone call from his subject. “You’ve been looking for me I hear?” “Your network got word to you without knowing where you were?” “They didn’t know where I am, but they knew who to contact to reach me. I just asked them not to share that information. Are you concerened about the rooftop event?”
“Very.” “I’m putting together a team. You can be part of it, but we’re a team, not your team, understood?” “Unfortunately I couldn’t authorize it anyway. My superior has cooled to the idea of making you a part of our operation.” “That’s very good news. How is Chess Piece these days?” “Angry, and impatient, so normal. Where do we start?”
“We start in four days when I get back. Meet us at our temporary base in West War on the fourteenth, we’re taking the battle to them. The first group is an old enemy of mine, the Caterer.” “He won’t be very happy to see me, this should be fun!”
The Sea Horse disconnected the call. Then he considered the chasm he found himself in. Water was never a problem, but the explosives that lined both the exit and the entrance were. As well as the mad man who would set them off before he could get free.
He had one course of action, so he committed to it. “If I get back, I’m not leaving Oceania for a long, long time. It’ll be good to deal with my typical foes for a change, I’ll even be glad to see Chess Piece, if I get back.”
Find out next week who the mad man is, and whether The Sea Horse escapes the death trap he’s prepared.