Location: Suburban neighborhood, Sarah Coleman's home.
Time: Late Afternoon.
Sarah Coleman sat in her car, a brief moment of respite before picking up her two daughters from school. The soft hum of the engine and the quiet of the suburban street should have been comforting, but today, everything felt heavy. She glanced at her watch, a habitual motion, and then her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. The number on the screen was unmistakable—it was from the office.
Sighing, she answered. "Coleman here."
"Sarah, you need to get back to the office immediately. We’ve received another video from Mr. Black," her colleague’s voice came through the line, tense and urgent.
Her heart skipped a beat. Without hesitation, she ended the call, dialed her husband’s number, and spoke in a calm but hurried tone. "Hey, I need you to pick up the girls from school today. Something’s come up at work."
Her husband didn’t ask questions—he could sense the urgency in her voice. After hanging up, Sarah turned her car around and headed back to the FBI field office. The drive that would have normally been a mundane part of her day now felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on her shoulders. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of destruction Mr. Black had planned next.
---
Location: FBI Field Office, Command Center.
Time: 30 Minutes Later.
The command center was buzzing with activity when Sarah walked in, her eyes immediately scanning the room. The large screen at the front of the room showed a paused news broadcast, a chaotic scene from a recent bombing in an unnamed Asian country. The Black Clover symbol was unmistakable, its presence a grim reminder of the terror they were fighting against.
"Glad you could join us, Coleman," Section Chief Mercer said, his voice tight with controlled urgency. He gestured toward the screen, where the broadcast resumed. The reporter’s voice was grim as it described the aftermath of a massive explosion in a crowded market.
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"The death toll has now reached 3,000, with many more injured. Authorities have confirmed that the terrorist organization known as Black Clover has claimed responsibility for this horrific act."
Sarah’s jaw tightened as she watched the devastation unfold on the screen. The room was silent, save for the muffled sounds of typing and hushed conversations. Mercer stepped forward and clicked a button on the remote. The screen flickered, switching to another video—this one sent directly from Mr. Black.
"This came directly to us, but it was also sent to the Chinese government," Mercer explained, his voice low but intense. "They’re understandably on edge, especially after what just happened. We need to stop this man before he escalates further."
The video began. Mr. Black stood in front of an elementary school, his mask a disturbingly cheerful bunny design this time. He held a small boy, no older than six, in his arms. The child’s face was innocent, unaware of the peril he was in. Mr. Black stroked the child’s head almost affectionately, his voice soft as he spoke to the boy in Chinese.
"Smile for the uncles and aunties watching, little one," he said, his words sending a chill through the room. The contrast between his tender actions and the sinister undertone of his words was enough to make anyone uneasy.
The boy, still confused and unaware of the situation, smiled weakly. The video cut out abruptly, leaving the room in stunned silence. The agents exchanged looks, the horror of what they had just witnessed settling over them like a thick fog.
"This bastard…" Agent Daniel Briggs muttered, his fists clenched at his sides. "He’s escalating. He’s not just after casualties anymore; he’s going for pure psychological terror."
Sarah’s mind raced as she tried to process the implications. "That school—do we have any intel on its location? We need to figure out where he filmed this and if there’s any immediate threat to the kids."
Mercer was already on the move, issuing orders to the tech team to analyze the video frame by frame. He also turned to Briggs, assigning him to coordinate with the Chinese government. "We need to know everything about this school. Coleman, I want you to liaise with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We need a profile update ASAP. Black’s shifting his tactics, and we need to keep up."
Sarah nodded, mentally preparing herself for the tasks ahead. The stakes had never been higher. As she started to walk away, her phone buzzed again, this time with another email notification from Mr. Black. Her stomach churned as she opened it. The email contained yet another video.
The video was shorter than the last, but no less chilling. Mr. Black’s masked face filled the screen once more, the school now in the background. But there were no children visible this time.
"You know, I always did have a soft spot for the little ones. But don’t worry—I’m not a monster. No harm will come to these children… for now. Just remember, the clock is ticking, and the next time, I might not be so generous." His tone was mocking, almost playful, before it turned colder. "Oh, and don’t bother looking for this school—it’s in a location you’ll never reach in time."
He paused, his voice suddenly more menacing. "But here’s a clue for the next target—sometimes, the past holds the key to the future. I suggest you look into your own history, FBI. It might save you some lives."
The video ended, and Sarah felt a cold sweat trickle down her spine. The weight of Mr. Black’s words hung heavy in the air. He wasn’t just a terrorist—he was a master manipulator, playing a game with them, and they were only just starting to understand the rules.
Mercer was already moving into action, issuing commands. "Everyone, you heard the man. I want a full historical analysis of past FBI cases that might be relevant. This psychopath is playing with us, and we can’t afford to let him win."
As the agents scrambled to get to work, Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding that had settled over her. The game had changed. And now, with the stakes rising higher than e
ver, the real fight for survival had only just begun.
