Astrid sat in her office, staring at the screen of her laptop. On her laptop, a video was being played. A video/footage taken from the surveillance cameras inside the smoke-filled garage, which showed Nightfury fighting against the mercenaries, a good chunk of their movements hidden by the smoke.
This was the latest footage found on Nightfury. Before this, she'd reviewed other available footage. Glimpses of Nightfury chasing suspects, and fuller scenes from criminal hideouts. Most showed hand-to-hand combat, but a few, which were mainly recovered from surveillance cameras of criminal hideouts, revealed gunfights.
The grainy surveillance footage played on repeat, the sound of muted gunfire and scuffling echoes crackling through the speakers. Despite the smoke obscuring the view, Nightfury's fluid movements were unmistakable.
As she watched, Astrid's brow furrowed. Something about Nightfury's technique seemed...off. Too calculated, too precise. She leaned forward, rewinding the video to examine a particular sequence.
She scrutinized the footage, her trained eyes picking out details others might miss. Nightfury's movements were fluid, calculated.
His fighting style, his skills, from what she could observe in the videos she watched, were very refined. Not like that of some master martial artist. More similar to someone who has been trained and battle tested. Considering how long Nightfury has been active, she has no doubt he definitely had time to refine his skills in combat. But there was a pattern in his movements.
He used cover effectively, exploited enemy weaknesses, and executed precise disarms. The way he cleared rooms, checked corners, and utilized suppressive fire... it was all too familiar.
Astrid's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched, as she watched Nightfury's calculated movements. "What drives someone to this level of skill and violence?" she wondered. A shiver ran down her spine. This wasn't just any vigilante.
His fighting style echoed that of a trained military man, and reviewing every footage once more, the facts became even more clear to her.
She noted the efficient use of the crowbars in combat in the latest footage, the economy of motion, the tactical positioning, how he moves in a firefight in another footage, and his decision making. She remembered the bodies of Nightfury's victims, how he had shot them, precise and effective, wasting no more than 3 to 4 bullets per person.
And seeing all this, it became undeniably clear. His techniques mirrored those taught in advanced military programs. Standard Operating Procedures, Combat maneuvers, etc was easily detectable in his moves.
"This isn't some street-fighting thug," Astrid thought,"He's been trained. Military, possibly even special ops."
Her grip on the laptop tightened, as her mind raced with possibilities. Just who was this vigilante? What was his story?
Astrid put down the screen of her laptop, before spinning in her chair to face the board, her eyes scanning all the notes, pictures and other stuff she hung there.
"What drives someone to this level of skill put a path of violence?" Astrid wondered.
Thoughts swirled in her mind, as she leaned back onto her chair, looking up towards the ceiling.
Nightfury is a lawless vigilante. His actions create unrest and undermine authority. That's what she knew so far. She doesn't know what his motives are, but assumes it is probably personal revenge or glory.
But her recent encounters have made a dent in her previous judgment.
The support Detective Jack Frost showed regarding Nightfury made her reconsider her opinions on him. The detective had a first hand experience with the vigilante, so for him to say something like that, was unexpected for her. Nightfury's methods are unorthodox, but Jack's observation of cleaner streets and reduced crime rates was definitely right.
Which left her questioning her doubts about Nightfury.
But something that Jack had said stuck to her mind. "Nightfury sure doesn't share that sentiment about being bound by law. His hands are free, and they ARE invoking justice to where it is really needed." That's what he told her when they first met.
Astrid wondered if Jack may have insight into Nightfury's motivations or goals.
"What does Jack know about Nightfury's motivations?" She thought,"Did he have any contact or encounter with Nightfury? What the heck did he mean?"
Perhaps she should meet with the detective again. Maybe his perspective can shed more light on the motives of this mysterious vigilante.
And then, there was Camicazi.
Astrid rubbed her chin as her thoughts drifted to the blonde haired private detective. Her repeated involvements in Nightfury-related cases raise questions. Astrid wonders if it's truly just a coincidence, or if her suspensions are true and Camicazi is involved with Nightfury somehow.
She knew Nightfury was targeting the Outcasts specifically, but now she wondered if his actions were random or if there's a larger strategy.
However, Camicazi's ambivalence toward Nightfury suggests he might not be purely driven by revenge or malice.
That left Astrid with even more questions. "What is it that drives Nightfury and his crusade against crime?" She muttered to herself.
Is he truly a lone wolf or part of a larger network? Can his methods be justified if they are leading to reduced crime? How does everything fit into Nightfury's plans, if at all?
Questions Such as these swirled into her mind.
But as she thought of all this, Astrid's concern for public safety grew. Nightfury's actions, though targeted, put innocent lives at risk. With each passing moment, Astrid's determination grew.
She would uncover Nightfury's identity, no matter what.
…
Alvin rubbed his forehead as he slouched over his cluttered desk. The recent raid of his warehouse by the police has left him in a headache. Not to mention the 6 mercenaries of Krogan the police had confined. Grabbing his bottle of whiskey, he took a swig, in an attempt to calm his frazzled nerves. He let out a sigh as the alcohol went down his throat, leaving a pleasant burning sensation on its way.
Alvin leaned back, taking a few more gulps of his whiskey and let out a shaky breath, feeling his worries aviate away as the alcohol took effect.
Just then, his phone rang.
Alvin lazily pulled out his phone, wondering who was calling, but as soon as his eyes fell on the name on the screen, his eyes widened and his heart sank, fear gripping his chest, snapping him out of the alcohol induced haze.
He quickly received the call, pressing the phone against his ear, his voice remaining cautious.
"Alvin." an ice-cold voice said from the other side.
Alvin felt a chill run down his spine as he heard the voice. "Boss!" He hurriedly answered.
"I have heard of the situation, Alvin." the person said with a hint of disappointment in their voice.
"Boss, please,give me a moment, I'll handle it!" Alvin hurriedly said.
He was going to say a lot more, when the person from the other side cut him off,"Alvin!" Alvin shut his mouth as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his head.
The boss paused, letting the silence hang. Alvin's palms grew sweaty as the silence lingered for a few moments.
"I don't want to hear that you will handle it, or you will arrange something, or something else."
"Ye-yes Boss…" Alvin said, his throat feeling dry as a dessert.
"I want results." The person said, their voice sounding calm through the phone, but carrying a threatening aura of death.
Alvin could only whimper out a yes in reply. The boss's icy tone sent shivers down his spine.
"Get the situation under control." The person ordered and ended the call.
Alvin put his phone down, and staggered back into his seat, letting out a sigh of relief. His heart pounded, threatening to burst out of his chest. He closed his eyes and wiped the sweat off of his forehead, before slouching over his desk again.
"What have I gotten myself into?" he muttered, his voice barely audible, as he gripped his throbbing head,"I'm doomed." All his calmness evaporated in that instance, a panic set in. "How did it come to this?"
His mind raced."What if I fail? What if the boss... No, no, I need to focus."
Alvin quickly grabbed his bottle, and took a swig, gulping down its remaining contents in one go. He dropped the bottle on the floor, and leaned back in his chair, sighing in relief as the alcohol helped calm his nerves.
With the boss's warning still simmered in Alvin's mind, he decided he needed a break. Alvin turned on the large TV installed in the room. The first channel that turned up when the TV channel was the famous news channel, NTV. Which, coincidentally, showed news covering the raid of his storage unit.
Alvin growled as the news further fueled his annoyance. "Unbelievable," he muttered, "they're making me look like a fool."
Instead of changing the channel, he stood up and walked over to the mini fridge in the room, grabbing himself another bottle of whiskey.
As he got back to his chair, just then, he noticed something, or rather someone in the news. He immediately rewinded the episode, before pausing at one specific segment, which showed a number of pictures taken of the crime scene.
In one of the pictures, he could spot a blonde woman present at the storage unit, who looked like she was speaking with one of the police officers. His brows furrowed as his face twisted into a frown. He knew this woman. She's the very same person his informant told him about. Astrid Hofferson, the B.S.D.I agent that was working on finding out about Nightfury.
His jaw clenched, face twisting in rage. Was B.S.D.I meddling with his business now? A growl escaped his lips.
"If B.S.D.I is gonna mess with me, then I will teach them a lesson." His voice dropped to a menacing snarl.
He snatched his phone up from the table, before dialing a number and pressing the phone against his ear. Oh, he was gonna teach them a very thorough lesson. One that they won't forget.