“Good possibility she is. We don’t have any way in hell of knowing just how many followers that bastard had. This kung-fu-killer wolf bitch could be one of his damn…co-leaders.”
“Co-leaders?” Robert echoes back, raising an eyebrow at the lack-for-better-word term. His smile grows when Chase huffs in frustration, old-man dreads a cloud that pollutes his scrunched face.
“Now you know what the fuck I meant.”
“Just saying, just saying.”
“Yeah? Well, you better just put your ass back on that monitor.” Chase snaps. The shift in his tone is palpable pain; an obvious warning that makes Robert straighten in his seat, though he would never admit it. “Laugh at me all you want; this woman has evaded the Z-Team twice, so you need to crack her down today. Every time you let her slip? That’s another opportunity for her to get more dangerous.”
The unspoken words linger like a draft in the air. Robert hears and feels them all the same; She can kill the team. She can kill you. Don’t be a fool.
Get up.
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
Or;
Robert Robertson III’s mother is dead.
Until she’s suddenly not.