Chapter 2
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Chapter 2
Be wise now therefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of the earth. Worship the LORD with reverence and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all who take refuge in him.
~Psalm 2: 10-12
Pandemonium. The precinct was in chaos. The large room was lined with multiple desks. High ceilings with wooden paneling.
Dozens of officers at each desk answering phone calls and clicking away at computers. Blatant disbelief hung in the air.
A general look of confusion painted on everyone's face.
Tension lined shoulders, legs pressed against each other to remind that they are not alone. Fear of the unknown choking breath and chills racing down spines.
This is what the two gruff men walked in on.
Both men wore suit and tie, a gun holster at their hip. The first man was dark-skinned with a goatee, dark eyes, and short hair.
The other had light skin, dark eyes, slicked-back hair, and long sideburns that met a trimmed mustache in an old fashioned do.
Both men surveyed the room, trained eyes categorizing the exits. Then they walked along the wall around the desks of frantic officers in the room.
Down a hallway to the last door on the left.
A nameplate, gold in its color dulled with time, hung to its right. Captain Louis Bandello.
The dark-skinned man rose his fist and lightly knocked. The bronze knob twisted and then the two men were looking into liquid brown eyes with a tint of red.
The man wore a black Armani suit and dark green tie. Dark brown hair slicked back in a posh style.
The man smiled and stuck out a hand in greeting at the door.
Both men outside the office raised their eyebrows at the action. The man narrowed his eyes and took back his hand as if offended.
"Gentlemen my names Agent McLeod, please come in."
The newly named man waved them in and gestured to a man facing a large window overlooking London behind a desk.
"This man here is Captain Louis Bandello."
Both unnamed men walked in the room that they could now see was an office. A window stretched out against the wall across the door.
Filing cabinets lined the wall to its left and bookshelves lined the right.
A glass desk stood before the window, files splayed out across it. From where the two men stood they could see photographs strewn on top of the files. Archaic symbols in each one.
The sound of a door closing, none noticing that no hand had been used to shut it as McLeod came to stand beside them.
The lighter skin toned of the two opened his mouth to speak.
An amused glint shining in McLeod's eyes.
"I am Agent Frank Castle."
The man behind the desk turned around. He was tall. Just reaching 6'3". Dirty blonde hair hung around his ears, amber eyes piercing dark eyes. Castle gestured to his partner.
"This is Agent Rupert Studdard. We are from Interpol. When the higher-ups heard about the massacre at Privet Drive and the mysteriousness of the deaths we were sent to help."
McLeod's lips twitched as Bandello's mouth formed into a grim line.
"Interpol, huh? McLeod here is from Interpol as well. I didn't think they would send three of you."
Studdard and Castle stiffened. McLeod's lips twitched in amusement.
"We come from different departments. I come from the Ambassadors of the Queen's Guard and these gentlemen come from DMH, Department of Mysterious Homicide. Isn't that right boys."
The men shifted stiffly and nodded their heads. Agent Studdard opened his mouth.
"Yes, we look forward to working with you."
Bandello grimaced.
"We don't need help from the higher-ups we have everything under control."
McLeod let out a bark of amusement.
"Sure you do Sasquatch, that's why every officer you have on staff are running around like chickens with their bloody heads cut off."
"Not only do you have no idea what caused the deaths, but it took you four days to reach Privet Drive after the distress call you received from what your precinct filed as a woman who is a bit touched in the head."
"One Arabella Figg. The woman has made many calls to this station about the domestic violence that went on in that house to a child that you all claimed didn't exist. That child who is sitting in the interrogation room as we speak. Moron."
Castle and Studdard glanced at McLeod from the corner of their eyes.
Bandello rubbed his hands over his face in stress, then sighed. Combing his fingers through his hair.
"Your right. I know your right. It just irks me that we need help. We've never had a situation like this before."
His voice was gruff with emotion. He glanced down at the photos on his desk. He picked one up and traced a finger along the symbol.
Agent Studdard cleared his throat as he and Castle walked to stand before the desk. Taking a closer look at the photographs.
"What happened? Why did it take you so long to arrive at the scene?"
Agent Castle and Agent Studdard pierced Bandello with a look that demanded he answer. The captain sighed again as he put the photo back on the desk.
McLeod grinning from ear to ear behind the two Agents. Amber eyes looked down at the photos, he rummaged through them until he found the ones of the bodies. Eight houses, eight families, all dead.
Eyes all missing, burned from their sockets. Louis Bandello shook his head and began. Turning the photos toward the Agents in front of him. They made disgusted noises in the backs of their throats.
McLeod merely hummed, his eyes sparking with an inscrutable emotion. Bandello eyed him warily before he began. Something was off with that man.
"Four days ago, on October 31st, we received a distress call at 7:04 am from one Arabella Figg, detailing she heard a child screaming from number four Privet Drive."
"As per protocol, I ordered a team to investigate the call. In incidents previous, my men would come back swearing left and right that there was only one child at number four, Petunia and Vernon Dursley's son Dudley."
"My officers interrogated all the neighbors and they all stated the same.
There was only one child. Arabella Figg was the only one who said otherwise."
"When my men knocked on the door, Mrs. Dursley let them in without fuss and had them for tea and crumpets as the men searched the house. The Dursleys claiming they had nothing to hide. There were no photos of another child."
"The house smelt clean and when questioning the child Dudley, he confirmed that there wasn't another. As such we had no proof to hold up in court to file for a warrant for a more in-depth search. So for all intents and purposes, we truly believed there wasn't one."
"But had I known. Had I known. Well as far as I am concerned those monsters got what they deserved. May they rot in Hell."
"Oh don't worry, I'm sure they are."
The Captain's gaze shot to McLeod, Castle, and Studdard fingering a flask with a cross that was poking out their jacket pockets as they leveled their gaze at him.
Drinking on the job? Well with this case the captain couldn't blame them.
"Now, now don't mind me and my commentary. I'll just stand here and look pretty in the shadow of your canopy. Carry on."
Bandello's eyebrow twitched in annoyance but he continued.
"However, on that day things went differently. When arriving at the road that would take them into the Privet Drive a storm appeared out of nowhere. Lightning slammed down in front of the car."
"Repeatedly."
"When they tried to move around it, the lightning followed. Then the rain came down hard. Then they say they saw a light so bright they had to close their eyes lest they be blinded."
"My men were baffled and called it in to get back up. I came out with another three teams."
"We tried to enter the neighborhood from another direction but to no avail. Lightning struck down continuously at all entrances to Privet Drive."
"I've heard of a freak storm but never this."
Studdard shook his head in disbelief as the Captain continued.
"We stayed out there for four days waiting for the storm to let up so we could enter the neighborhood. We tried calling the residents but no one answered from any of the houses we called."
"It wasn't until the storm died on the fourth day, this morning that we found out why. When we finally entered the neighborhood, it was unnervingly quiet."
"My team and I went straight to number four, while I had the other teams go check out the state of the other families and Arabella Figg.
While my team and I found the Dursley family dead and the small child that was thankfully alive, the other teams found only death."
"All the families that lived on Privet Drive, even the animals, dead. Eyes burned out of their sockets, faces still smoking when they were found.
That child was the only one that survived that….whatever caused…whoever….the massacre."
"He hasn't said a word since we found him. Likely still in shock. He only clutches a small rusted cross like a lifeline. We have no leads, nothing to indicate the reason for it."
"The only thing we were able to find were these symbols burned into the tile floor beneath the Dursley's bodies. No residue was found in the creases of the symbols."
"Nothing indicating how they appeared. The symbols are archaic. I had them translated a few hours ago."
Bandello turned and faced the window, pressing the heels of his palms to the window sill. Castle stepped forward, McLeod leaning forward eagerly.
"What do the symbols mean, Captain?"
The Captain sighed. He still couldn't believe it. A cold fear gripped him of the unknown.
"The child was covered in blood when we found him. We took a sample of the blood as well as his, they were the same. But when we cleaned him up, he had no wounds only scars that looked like he had been hurt months ago. The blood was only four days old."
"Bullocks. Bloody interesting, that."
Exclaimed McLeod, his eyes gleaming in interest, a smirk painted across his face.
Studdard clicked his teeth in annoyance.
"What do the symbols mean?"
The Captain glanced over his shoulder at them.
"They're Enochian. The language of Angels."
Both Agents made sounds of disbelief. McLeod rolled his eyes.
"Charming. Get on with it stretch we don't have all day. A bottle of Craig is calling my name."
Bandello's brows furrowed in anger but he turned toward them and spoke. Gesturing to McLeod.
"McLeod was the one who translated it. He is a linguist in his spare time, apparently."
Blatant looks of disbelief were passed between Castle, Studdard, and the Captain. McLeod looked affronted.
"What?! I am good with languages."
"Yeah, ones that have no place in today's world. Dead ones. Idjit."
Muttered Castle as he rubbed a hand over his beard in frustration. Caressing a thumb on the flask in his pocket.
"Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure. Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion. I will declare the decree: the LORD hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee. Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel."
The men gazed at the Captain in shock.
"It's Psalm 2: 5-9. Never have I come across something like this. The storm, that light, the way those people died and that little boy whose wounds heal faster than humanly possible, surviving when everything else that was living died. It's suspicious."
Bandello gazed at them, his very expression was serious.
"What are you suggesting? That a child murdered everyone on Privet Drive? You do know such a notion is bloody ridiculous."
McLeod said.
"No! The child looks barely five years old. Though he is probably a couple of years older. His growth is most likely stunted due to malnutrition. Those people were starving him. I am merely suggesting that perhaps this was done by someone who considers themselves as a guardian angel of a sort for the boy."
The captain denied.
"Some guardian."
Muttered McLeod. Studdard sighed in agreement, glanced down at the sightless faces gazing up at him from the photos and spoke.
"The message could be construed as the obvious motive. But we should put such speculations aside until we have more clues."
Castle hummed.
"I'll say. The child, can we speak with him?"
"He hasn't said a word since he was brought here. No amount of coaxing has made a difference. We are starting to suspect he may be mute. Whether from the trauma or something else we are hard-pressed to tell."
"However, yes you may take a shot at interrogating him. A word of caution, the child is jumpy. He calmed some after we cleaned him up and gave him a fluffy robe that belonged to one of my men's children that he had in his car."
"However, he flinches when someone comes too close. So try to appear as unthreatening to him as possible."
The Agents nodded and turned to follow the Captain as he made his way to the door. McLeod was already by it, holding it open.
"After you beanstalk."
McLeod said with a smirk. Bandello huffed and brushed past him walking briskly out the door. Castle and Studdard followed. McLeod's eyes flashed red, as he bared his teeth in a shark-like grin.
He walked out into the hall following the officer and two hunters in front of him. Honestly, those meat suits were so obvious, he thought in amusement.
As he walked he flicked his hand in a two-finger salute, the office door clicked shut as if by an invisible wind.
It was time to make a deal.