The Adiado Forensic and Police Department building was a 10 story-high super structure with a police academy, a firearm training facility, a Forensic department and a staff of nearly 600 people.
The police department was on the 7th floor. Kent Hobstone had his own office of detectives and forensic investigators. Right now they were working on the latest suspicious killings. At the moment they were working on a murder in a small farmhouse in Milwaukee, the hometown of the well known serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer.
Kent Hobstone sat at his desk, flicking through a holiday magazine. The door opened and Sally Walker, his lead investigator, walked in. ''Got the info you needed sir,' she said. ''Cheers Sal,' he said, putting the magazine down. Sally nodded and walked out. Kent picked up the file and opened the first page. There was a the victims picture, along with some information underneath.
Name: Brian Lynch
Height: 5ft 9in
Weight: 11 stone
Date of death: 2/9/2004
Kent flicked through the pages, scanning the medical bills and the health issues. Then he stopped. Underneath all the bills was something interesting.
Brian Lynch was in Russia, when he was suddenly arrested by the Dolinsk police on the charges of being an American spy. But before he could be deported to Moscow he escaped his captors and caught the next plane back to Chicago. The Russians were furious. A few months after Lynch arrived into America there was several attempt's on his life. He survived all of them. The attempt's continued on over the years when they finally stopped in 1997. But now apparently the Russian's have succeeded in their goal.
The words stopped there. Kent didn't move. His mind stumbled over the possibilities. A political murder? A random killing? A burglary gone wrong? The file stated that he had been killed by the Russians. But that seemed unlikely. The people left from the Soviet government had all gone into hiding. Could it have been them? Russia had a shaky relationship with the U.S. It seemed unlikely that a Russian was able to get into the country unnoticed. But then, almost everything today was noticed. He would have to get information. And fast because the killer might still be in the country.
He stood up, put on his trench coat and hat, and opened the door. ''Sir, there are reporters out there from that snozzbag paper I was telling you about,' called Sally. Kent sighed. He hated reporters. Always nosing everywhere and demanding answers that weren't there. He sighed again and opened the door and walked out to a hail of flashes and questions.