“They’re the heirs to the fucking kingdom.”
32
Indie
Use Somebody - Kings of Leon
I’vehuntedeverywhereforSaint; I need him to give me the answers Rex wouldn’t offer.
He said it was best coming from Saint, and I think he’s purposely sent me on a wild goose chase, because I haven’t been able to find him anywhere, and it’s not exactly like he’s hard to notice.
Taking a left down the corridor near our bedroom, I scour through the side of the wing I haven’t explored before.
The Pit is ginormous, and Istillhaven’t managed to explore it all; it’s like a maze.
When I reach the door at the very end of the long corridor, I peer up to see Saint’s name engraved in a brass plaque.
Instead of being polite and knocking, I barge straight in, seeing as my hour’s worth of a pursuit has begun to aggravate me.
The door opens up to a large office, although that would be downplaying its sheer size.
The room is dipped in darkness, an executive-sized desk centred in the middle of the room, but what’s most daunting of all is the colossal volume of screens cladded across the entire back wall.
Twenty, to be exact.
Some are switched off, but the ones that aren’t appear to be CCTV from around the building, each broken into four viewpoints feeding from every angle, showing possible entry and escape routes, all the way out into the woods.
Nothing seems to get in and out of here without someone knowing, and that doesn’t account for the eyes already on the ground.
The only light being provided is the ashy glow radiating from the feeds, and my gaze travels as I take in the surroundings.
His office is like a central hub. There’s a leather sofa nestled between filing cabinets stretching across the far end wall.
I reach the computer placed on the desk, running my finger along the oak surface as the light hits my face, the words on the screen staring back at me.
Ultio.
I force a swallow. I know exactly what that means, and that it relates to whatever Saint has built here.
An army, a militia?
Doesn’t matter what you categorise it as, it’s a cause designed to bring down Omnia, and its motives are to reap vengeance.
Something catches in the corner of my eye, and my gaze travels over to the wall on my right. Curiosity gets the better of me as I mindlessly walk over. A huge board is pinned to the wall, photos, writing, and dates all interlinked. Like something you’d see in a detective’s office, working to locate the killer of the crime they want to crack.
This…is Omnia’s operation.
They’re trying to piece together their structure, their movements.
Some of the information is mission, and others look like they’ve had the pictures removed, either signalling they’ve been taken care of, or are no longer a threat.
I glance up to the top, and sure enough, Conrad and George Montgomery are centred as the kingpins of the entire operation.
Along with their father.
Those sick fucks. No wonder they never got in trouble for what they did; their own father has handed them the rights to their own sick fantasy.
His position as a federal judge allows him the power to keep what they have safe.
