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Mayhem:Federal Paranormal Agency 7

By: Olivia Black

Federal Paranormal Agency 7






Chapter One




Dylan Aldian raced toward the conference room at FPA headquarters. His leader, Abram Jackman, had called an emergency meeting, alerting the agents that there had been a bombing. Dylan didn’t know the details, but he sent up a silent prayer, hoping this wasn’t a terrorist attack. He’d seen far too many in his lifetime, innocent lives lost to one extremist cause or another over centuries without any real resolution.

He didn’t want to go through another September 11th. The damage had been horrific, and the attack was one of the deadliest in recorded history with 2,993 fatalities and 8,900 injuries. Living in New York City during that tragedy had changed the course of his life as well as many others. He could still see it all so clearly inside his mind even after fourteen years.

Rushing into the conference room, Dylan took a seat and waited as some of the other agents filed in. Not all the agents were in attendance since there were other active cases.

After a few minutes, the FPA’s tech guru, Axel Lee, stood up. “There was a bombing a few hours ago at the Silver Bullet in New Orleans,” he announced.

Using a handheld remote, Axel brought up a series of pictures. Images of the Silver Bullet, a popular club in New Orleans, filled the screen. The building that had once stood tall in the Warehouse District was now partially rubble. An entire wall had collapsed, spread out along the city street in a mixture of burnt glass, metal, and brick.

“What do we know about the bomb?” Dylan asked.

“We don’t have any information about the bomb at this time, but we should be receiving pictures of the fragments soon,” Abram said. “The local FBI office and the New Orleans police department are working together. We’ve been asked to join the task force since the Silver Bullet is a shifter-owned club and paranormals were injured in the explosion.”

“Is this an attack against paranormals, a hate crime, or an act of terrorism?” Max Lumeria asked.

“We don’t know,” Axel answered, shaking his head. “Nobody has taken credit for the explosion.”

“What’s the count?” Dylan asked. “How many casualties?”

“Sixty-one people injured, eighteen critically wounded, and seven dead. I want a team flying down to New Orleans within the next thirty minutes,” Abram ordered. “We’ve got to find the person responsible and figure out if this is an isolated incident or if there will be more bombings.”

“I’ll go,” Dylan volunteered without hesitation. “I’ve got a good relationship with Gideon Channing and his pack.”

“Yeah, I think that would be a good idea. You can do the job without making it personal. I sent Ranger, Shaw, and Brock to Montreal to hunt down a rogue shifter. That should keep them busy for a while.” Abram rose to his feet. “Dylan will take the lead. Axel, I need you in the field. I want you to check out the city’s surveillance system and run each person that was at the Silver Bullet through our facial recognition program.”

“I can hack into the city’s surveillance system and run the program from here,” Axel said. “I don’t need to go out into field.”

Dylan didn’t know the reason behind Axel’s reluctance to leave FPA headquarters, but he was certain it had to be something serious. The lion shifter hadn’t always stayed hidden behind his computer screen. There had been a time when Axel worked cases in far-off countries. Again, Dylan didn’t know all the details, but whatever had happened pushed Axel to want to hide from the outside world.

Abram shook his head. “I need you there,” he said before continuing on with his orders. “Max, go to the hospital and the club. You’re in charge of collecting evidence. We need to put this bomb back together in order to find any signatures that might point to the person responsible. Ian, get the plane ready. You’re transportation.”

“Do you want me to stay with the team?” Ian asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “Stay with the plane. I don’t want the FBI to think we’re taking over their case. At this time, it’s a joint task force. We need to play nice.”

Pushing back his chair, Dylan rose to his feet, and the other agents followed his lead.

“If you need anything, call me,” Abram told him.

“Yes, sir.” Dylan nodded. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the room. Dylan paused in the hallway, waiting for Ian, Axel, and Max to join him. “Grab your gear. We’ll meet in the underground parking garage and head to MacArthur Airport together.”

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