Fight Club: Aftermath
|Fight Club: Aftermath|
|Date of Cutscene:||06 August 2017|
|Cast of Characters:||Renee Montoya|
"Montoya, what the -hell- were you thinking?" The Police Chief was not happy. Not in the least. The veteran policeman slammed his hand down on the desk. Outside, a group of officers silently watched, each pretending to work at their desks while glancing secretly towards the windows whose venetian blinds were closed.
"You let a vigilante go, a -suspect- go, you let a -witness- to this go, and our best lead. I should have your badge." His other hand slammed down on the desk and he leaned forwards, the vein on his forehead bulging, face red.
Detective Renee Montoya faced this storm. It was not the first time, and it wasn't the last. But she did not face it calmly, she stared back, unflinching, at the furious storm front in front of her in the guise of the Chief, her boss, and the man who could do just what he said. He -could- take her badge away.
"Because I'm not -stupid-," she snarled back with just as much emotion. "If she's a -suspect- like you said, she doesn't think we're onto her. And she thinks we're her friends. And she'll come back to me with more information. And she's going to Dresden. And if she's not? She -is- our ally. We're up against something guns and tear gas don't do shit against. We -need- people like her," Montoya snarled back, pointedly.
The Chief stared Montoya back in the eyes, his lips twitching at the mention of Harry Dresden. It was no secret that most in the department didn't like the self-proclaimed wizard. "This is all on you, Montoya. Every bit of it. If this isn't solved in the next week, or if another murder crops up, we're taking your badge, and you're going to want to call your union rep, because you'll be under official investigation. Get out."
Renee stared. Stared. At the Chief. And, wordlessly, she stalked out. The windows rattled with the slam of the door behind her.
Outside, Lt. Morris just smiled to himself, and sipped at his coffee as he watched Montoya walk out of the office. He'd have to get Fisk a note later. Let him know that his price might be going up, if he could get rid of a thorn like Montoya.
Montoya walked out of the building, hands stuffed into her pockets. She was furious. Furious at herself. Furious at Dresden, for not finding a lead sooner. Furious that they were too late to find out anything of real worth on the man behind this. Furious at the Chief. And furious because she knew that someone had sold her out. Someone, -someone-, had leaked their plans. And she was going to find out who that someone was. And she was going to take them down. But now? Now, she had to find Dresden. It was time to start asking Questions.