In the ambulance, Naoh was on the medical bed with a nurse and a police officer sitting next to him.
His eyes were closed as his mind replayed through everything he had done.
“Jackson should be thinking of me as one his best friends now,” He thought, “After all not only did I save him, I took a bullet for him too.”
His thought wandered off to what Ryker said, “Selling in their territory huh?”
“Jackson’s family will be a great connection for me, they could help me establish more wealth and status.”
“A common myth among the people is that the underground is only reserved for criminals, that couldn’t be more wrong. Many of the biggest companies have deep connections to the underworld, it’s just that they are hidden.”
As his thoughts wandered off to his next steps, the door of the ambulance opened.
“We have arrived, Mr.Thompson.” The nurse stated as he tried to help Noah down.
****
Walking in the hospital’s hallway, Noah glanced at the patients on the beds to ease off his boredom.
As he was walking, his eyes caught a familiar face.
“Horace?” Noah thought.
“You’ve been in a coma all this time… No wonder why the police did not come knocking on my door.” He thought, with a grin on his face.
“Don’t worry Horace, I’m sure you are feeling lonely. I will pay you a visit soon.” He thought as he made a mental note of the room’s section and number.
In the doctor’s room, the doctor took off Noah’s shirt as he assessed his shoulder.
“Your shoulder is slightly bruised. However, it’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Depending on your recovery speed it should be healed within the next week,” The doctor said as he started typing on the computer.
“Your muscles absorbed a lot of the force behind the attack so your bones and ligaments are relatively fine. There isn’t much I can do besides offer you a painkiller in case it hurts a lot.”
Noah nodded and said “Thanks doctor, I’m alright. The pain isn’t that strong.”
After putting on his shirt, Noah left through the door with the doctor behind him.
The police officer waiting outside saw them coming out, “How is his condition doctor? is he medically fit for interrogation?”
The doctor nodded.
“He’s fit for interrogation,”
Thanking the doctor, the police officer grabbed Noah’s arm.
“Let’s go, you still need to be interrogated.”
****
In the police department, Rachel was caressing her temples from the headache she was going to receive from this case.
“Two of them have broken bones, and many fractured. Yet, they still don’t want to confess about what happened.” She sighed.
Noah walked into the small interrogation room, his expression cool.
Looking around, his eyes laid on a desk, and Sergeant Rachel Miller sitting behind it.
Her expression was that of impatience, she didn’t even bother to disguise her irritation, eyebrows raised as if expecting him to crumble at her stern gaze.
“Is he fit?” she asked, looking over his shoulder at the officer escorting him.
The officer gave a quick nod. “Doctor said he’s fit for interrogation.”
She nodded back, gesturing to the seat across from her.
“Sit,” she instructed Noah.
Noah lowered himself into the chair, his posture relaxed, his face calm.
Rachel leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly her hands clasped together.
“So,” she began, “care to tell me what happened exactly?”
With a small smirk, she added, “By the way, the others have already told me what happened, so choose your next words carefully.”
Inwardly, Noah scoffed at her attempt to play him. He could almost laugh at her.
“They told you everything?” he mused silently, resisting the urge to smirk.
“Does she think I’m that naive?”
Though outwardly, he stayed composed, his face showcasing no emotion as he looked her dead in the eyes. “I want to make a phone call,” he stated simply, voice calm but firm.
Rachel’s brows rose, surprised at his steady composure.
“Not now,” she said, the hint of a smirk still playing on her lips. “You can do that later.”
Noah maintained eye contact, his eyes locked with hers, his voice dropped to a lower sarcastic whisper, edged with a slight smile.
“You’re refusing me the right to call my lawyer?”
She sighed, the slight bravado in her expression slipping.
“Take him to the telephone booth,” she told the officer, irritation flickering across her face as her tactic didn’t work on Noah.
The officer took Noah toward the telephone booth.
Noah followed his steps unhurried, and a small knowing smile curved his lips.
He dialled a number and placed the receiver to his ear as it rang.
A voice on the other end answered sharply. “Hello? Who’s this?”
“Uncle Adam, it’s me, Noah,” Noah responded.
Immediately, Adam’s tone changed, the authority replaced by warmth.
“Noah! How are you doing?”
“I’m alright,” Noah replied, tone casual. “I hope you and the old man are doing good.”
“The old man’s doing great, thanks to your medicine,” Adam replied a chuckle in his voice. “Made his day last week with that chess match.”
A glint appeared in Noah’s eye, though his tone remained polite. “Glad to hear it. I was planning to visit him soon for another game, but unfortunately, something came up.”
Noah cast a subtle glance down the hall, where Rachel was seated a few yards away, watching him with a hawk-like intensity.
“Something came up?” Adam’s tone changed, instantly picking up on the Noah’s. “What happened?”
“Nothing major,” Noah said, his voice holding a touch of annoyance.
“The police are holding me up because I was at the wrong place at the wrong time—two gangs crossed paths, and I was caught in the crossfire.”
“Now, I’m here while they try to build some nonexistent case against me.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Adam spoke again, his voice colder. “You’re saying they’re holding you without evidence?”
“Exactly,” Noah replied, glancing at the police officer next to him nonchalantly.
“No evidence, no charges, no complaints filed against me. Yet here I am, waiting.”
Adam’s voice tightened. “Which station are you at right now?”
Noah gave him the address calmly, the name rolling off his tongue.
“You’ll be out of there soon. Just hang tight,” Adam replied, a hint of anger in his tone.
“Thanks uncle adam,” Noah added, before hanging up.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
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