Richard Carter still couldn’t make sense of General Thaddeus Ross.
The man had overseen a catastrophe that nearly leveled part of New York, created a monster through reckless experimentation, failed to contain it, and ultimately relied on the very fugitive he’d been hunting to save the day.
By any reasonable standard, Ross’s career should have ended there.
Instead…
A few years later, he’d become Secretary of State.
Richard had accepted it when it was just a movie.
Real life was different.
Now he lived in that world.
That promotion no longer felt like lazy writing.
It felt like a story.
What had Ross traded behind closed doors?
Who had protected him?
What leverage did he possess?
Somewhere beneath the official narrative, something wasn’t adding up.
And Richard had made a career out of chasing stories that didn’t add up.
The clock struck five-thirty.
Richard stood, stretched, and left his office.
The newsroom remained as busy as ever.
Phones rang.
Keyboards rattled.
Editors argued across desks.
Not a single person looked ready to go home.
Richard smiled with quiet satisfaction.
Now this felt like the Daily Planet.
Every reporter who joined the paper received the same warning during orientation.
If you wanted a comfortable nine-to-five job…
You’d chosen the wrong newsroom.
Big stories didn’t care what time the clock said.
Neither did journalists.
Richard had occasionally considered putting bunk beds in the office to save everyone the commute after all-night deadlines.
He’d wisely kept that particular management idea to himself.
Years ago, before arriving in this world, he’d worked under an editor who treated overtime like a religion.
The boss always disappeared the instant the workday officially ended.
The employees, meanwhile, stayed until midnight if necessary.
Leave before permission?
Say goodbye to your bonus.
Richard still remembered one enthusiastic foreign hire who’d proudly introduced himself as a dedicated workaholic.
A week later, the poor man had dark circles under his eyes and looked ready to resign.
“This isn’t overtime,” he’d muttered.
“It’s a human rights violation.” The entire newsroom had laughed.
He hadn’t survived the month.
Back then, Richard had watched his boss drive home for dinner while everyone else stayed behind.
Now…
The roles had reversed.
He strolled through the newsroom with his hands in his pockets.
“Good work, everyone.” “Don’t stay up too late.” Several exhausted reporters looked at him with expressions that suggested mutiny wasn’t entirely off the table.
Richard pretended not to notice.
Being the boss had its privileges.
On the way home, he stopped at a neighborhood grocery store.
The owner, Mrs.
Lin, was a Chinese immigrant in her forties.
Since Richard was one of the few customers who could chat with her in Mandarin, the two had become friendly over the years.
She looked up as the bell above the door chimed.
“Richard!” “What brings you in today?” “Soy sauce.” He headed straight for the condiment aisle.
She pointed toward the top shelf.
“Try the new brand.” “The locals don’t buy much of it, but it’s the closest thing to the real flavor.” Richard reached up and took a bottle.
“If you’re recommending it, I’ll trust your judgment.” He grabbed a sandwich as well before carrying everything to the register.
Mrs.
Lin held up that morning’s edition of the Daily Planet.
“I read today’s paper.” She shook her head.
“The city’s getting stranger every week.” “Giant silver heroes.” “Monsters.” “I don’t like where things are heading.” Richard smiled faintly.
“If you think that’s unusual…” He caught himself.
“Let’s just hope things settle down.” He paid for his groceries and headed toward the door.
“Richard.” Mrs.
Lin stopped him.
He turned.
“My daughter is having friends over tonight.” She smiled knowingly.
“It’ll be lively.” “Why don’t you stop by?” Richard almost laughed.
Mrs.
Lin had been trying to introduce him to her daughter since the day they’d met.
Judging from her descriptions, the young woman was brilliant, beautiful, successful, and apparently incapable of having a flaw.
Richard had yet to meet her.
He’d heard enough advertisements to fill a brochure.
“I’m afraid I already have plans.” Mrs.
Lin looked disappointed.
“Another time, then.” She hesitated before asking, “What do you usually do in the evenings, anyway?” “You live alone.” “I never see friends dropping by.” Richard smiled.
“Oh, nothing extraordinary.” He lifted the grocery bag.
“I just babysit.” With a casual wave, he stepped back onto the street.
Across the city, Kathy could hardly believe her luck.
Everything had gone almost too smoothly.
She’d questioned everyone willing to talk about the suspicious cargo ship that had arrived at the docks on Wednesday.
Most knew nothing.
One former convict had finally pointed her toward an abandoned warehouse.
“The Green Snake Gang stores shipments there sometimes.” That was all he’d said.
It was enough.
After nightfall, Kathy made her way to the warehouse.
The building looked ancient.
Rust covered the steel walls.
Broken windows stared into the darkness like empty eye sockets.
The front entrance was secured with nothing more than an old chain and a cheap padlock.
She ignored it.
Instead, she climbed an aging drainpipe toward the roof.
To her immense relief, the pipe proved sturdier than it looked.
She slipped through a dusty skylight and landed silently on an elevated catwalk overlooking the warehouse floor.
Voices drifted through the darkness.
Keeping low, she followed them.
Eventually she found a row of shipping containers.
One stood out.
A flimsy padlock hung from its doors.
Kathy smiled.
She reached into her backpack and produced a lock-pick set.
Seconds later…
Click.
The lock opened.
She pulled the doors apart.
Inside, dozens of young girls huddled together.
Their clothes were torn.
Their faces were pale.
Every one of them looked terrified.
Kathy’s heart raced.
She’d found them.
She’d actually found them.
She was already halfway to breaking the biggest story of her career.
Now all she had to do was get the victims out before the traffickers returned and take them somewhere safe.
She raised a finger to her lips.
“Quiet.” “I’m here to help.” “Follow me.” A deep voice answered from directly behind her.
“Follow you where?” Every muscle in Kathy’s body froze.
She turned slowly.
A massive man stood only a few feet away.
A thick gold chain hung around his neck.
His broad face was hard with suspicion, and his eyes watched her like a predator sizing up prey.
Kathy drew a slow breath.
This had just gone very, very wrong.