Cole snapped the lid of his briefcase shut and heaved it off of his oaken desk. After clenching it tightly in his grip, he used his other hand to lock up his office as he ambled out the door.
The gold plate that proudly flashed the words 'Detective Cole Brookstone' gleamed in the dim lighting of the hallway. Cole spared them a momentary glance before striding quickly toward the reception desk of the agency.
Behind the reception desk sat Maya Smith, who was typing furiously away on the company's only desktop computer.
"I'm punching out," Cole announced, padding closer to Maya's roomy workstation.
"Gotcha," she responded curtly, though not unkindly. In a swift move, Maya swiveled her chair around and keyed a short code into a small, square machine. That done, she immediately returned to her position at the clunky monitor. "You're free to go," Maya exclaimed.
"Thanks, Maya," Cole stated gratefully, dipping his head slightly as a sign of respect.
"I'm out, too," a voice called from further down the hall.
Cole shifted his gaze in order to catch sight of his coworker, Zane Julien, striding purposefully towards the front desk.
"Greetings, Cole," the pale, blue-eyed detective greeted smoothly, sparing his coworker a gentle smile.
"Hey, Zane," Cole responded gruffly, shifting the briefcase to a different hand.
"I didn't know that you would be in the office today," Zane stated in an almost melodious manner.
Cole shied his eyes away from Zane's tranquil, blue gaze and cleared his throat. It was no wonder that the soft-voiced detective was the Blacksmith Detective Agency's top interrogator. Not a single perpetrator had been able to fight against the soothing lull of Zane Julien's mesmerizing voice. Just listening to it made one want to spill everything they knew to him.
"I wasn't supposed to be," Cole explained, choosing his words carefully. "I was called in to get assigned a new case."
"The Borg Industries one, I presume?" Zane guessed, sparing Maya Smith one of his trademark, soft smiles.
"How did you know?" Cole asked tiredly, feeling like he already knew the answer to his own question. Zane's astounding mastery of the art of deduction had ceased to faze him years ago.
"I was the one who suggested to Head Detective Smith that you be assigned to this particular undercover mission," Zane explained. "I had a feeling that you would enjoy working behind enemy lines."
"Normally, I would," Cole shot back. "But I've been assigned a case partner."
Why had he told Zane that, exactly?
Zane's smile slid from his face. "Ah," he stated simply, running a hand through his gravity-defying, white-blonde hair. "That does make things more complicated."
"That's an understatement," Cole added in morosely. "He's just a rookie, too. Well, technically he was Deputy of Investigations at the PD for a time, but he has zero experience in any undercover situation."
Zane merely nodded his head, silently listening to Cole's tirade.
"He's obnoxious, and overly cheerful," Cole tossed out, beginning to pace back and forth. His briefcase swung gently in his grasp.
"Not to mention that I have the unfortunate hunch that he will somehow manage to spectacularly mess up the mission," Cole finished with a decisive shake of his head.
Zane clasped his hands behind his back. "This is quite the predicament," he agreed. "I know that you in particular despise partner cases." Here, Zane paused to offer his coworker a sympathetic look. "It must be hard for you to be thrust back into a similar situation."
Cole dropped his gaze, feeling anger simmer in his eyes as he clenched his fists. In a hasty movement, he dragged a hand down his face to calm himself.
Zane isn't doing anything wrong, the detective reminded himself. It just… Hurts.
The blue-eyed detective continued speaking, choosing to ignore Cole's sudden change in mood.
"Why not give this one a chance?" he tossed out, expecting a sharp reprimand from his coworker. When it didn't come, Zane took the opportunity to keep going. "He sounds like a fine fellow. He hasn't messed up yet, so I don't see any reason for you to despise him as of now." A sly smirk overtook Zane's elegant features. "Who knows? The two of you just might have more in common than you realize. I'm positive that both of you will become good friends by the time your case is solved."
Cole snorted. "Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. You must have had too many shots of cabernet sauvignon this morning in order to be thinking this crazy."
"I much prefer pinot grigio," Zane responded, chuckling. "And I wouldn't be too sure about that, Cole."
"Why's that?" Cole asked warily as Zane sauntered over towards the exit.
"Because," Zane supplied, turning around briefly to give his coworker a daring wink. "I'm never wrong."
With that, Detective Zane Julien vanished out the door, allowing a crisp wind to flow into the building upon his departure.
Maya grumbled something under her breath as the loose breeze fluttered around her carefully stacked mounds of case files.
"I'll be going, then," Cole murmured, striding out the door. He turned up the collar of his jacket against the cool weather and allowed himself a brief second to roll his eyes.
Just how cheesy could Zane get?
Shrugging his shoulders, Cole started the short walk back to his apartment complex. He was fortunate enough to live close by the agency, which had saved him from several possible tardies in the past.
As he strutted down the bustling streets of Ninjago City, he felt someone roughly bump into his side.
"Watch it," Cole snapped, spinning around to catch sight of who had run into him.
A small boy, who appeared to be no older than twelve, was struggling to disappear back into the crowd.
Cole narrowed his eyes, deciding the follow the boy, subconsciously feeling around in his pocket for his wallet.
It wasn't there.
A rush of pure adrenaline flowed through Cole's veins in response, his heart pumping viciously as it prepared for a fight-or-flight situation.
The detective growled low under his breath and began to surreptitiously stalk the small boy. The kid weaved through the crowd like a man possessed, nervously glancing over his shoulder from time to time. When the boy would look back to check his surroundings, Cole would instinctively slip behind a group of people.
Eventually, the lad came to a stop on a vacant street, which was scattered with more expensive-looking verandas. This time, when he glanced back, there was no cover for Cole to hide behind.
In almost comical fashion, the boy's sharp green eyes widened and he instantly took off running.
In five long strides, Cole had caught up with the boy and had him firmly by the collar. He lifted the kid off the ground by several inches, allowing himself to smirk at the way the boy shrieked and flailed his legs in vain.
"May I have my wallet back?" Cole asked politely, taking care to allow a strong undercurrent of rage to leak into his tone.
Immediately, the kid froze in the detective's grasp, clearly detecting the unspoken threat glimmering underneath Cole's words.
"Yes, mister!" he cried out, fishing the leather billfold from his trouser pocket.
Cole unceremoniously dropped the kid and snatched up his property in a swift move.
"Never steal from a detective again," he advised the boy, who gulped, stretched his eyes impossibly wider, and nodded.
"Good," Cole stated with a sense of finality, spinning around to walk off.
He heard the boy scuttling off from behind him, calling out to someone named 'Lloyd'.
Cole assumed it to be the boy's partner in crime.
After returning to the busier streets of Ninjago City, Cole drew in a breath of strong-smelling city air and jammed his free hand into a pocket, fingering his recovered wallet possessively.
As he ambled closer to his apartment, the dark-haired detective kept an eye out for the tall, almost misshapen skyscraper that signified Borg Industries' headquarters.
Cole caught sight of the menacing structure as he veered down a side street.
It loomed over the surrounding buildings like a king surveying its peasants and deciding which ones it planned to behead.
Cole subconsciously shivered and began to walk faster.
Two days, he told himself, repeating the words like a mantra. Just two days and I'll have to be up there. I just hope nothing goes wrong.