CHAPTER 95

WHEN THE TWO'S CONVERSATION WAS OVER, they both turned their attention to the event that was taking place. The loud ovation was heard loudly on the television when Kenan appeared. Cranes flew over the charismatic crowd that applauded the President and showed a spectacular view of the most watched political event in the world. It was impossible to count or estimate how many people would be there at that moment.

A perfect scenario for a terrorist attack...

What will be the next step of that scoundrel? — Greg wondered about the man who haunted the White House with his invasions.

Kenan's arrival and his introductory speech made everyone in the Bureau pause their tasks and watch in awe. At the end of his words, the bold President walked to his seat and the cameras now focused on the applauding crowd.

— This guy talks too well... I don't know, I don't trust people who talk well like that... — Martin muttered, fiddling with investigation files.

It was at that moment that things changed. The peace that seemed to last forever at that event was interrupted by a loud noise that disrupted the broadcast.

— Oh! In the digital age, this still happens?! — joked Breanne, who entered the room.

Someone threatened to turn down the volume on the television, but Greg, alert, asked him not to. The noise was not from the broadcast, but from the location.

— Wait! — he said, eager.

— What's wrong? — Martin asked. — When it gets better, we'll turn it up again.

— That noise isn't from the broadcast, it's from there!

— And what does that mean? — Gregory didn't want to show that he knew anything. He needed to keep his important mission a secret.

— I don't know, but I want to hear what's going on…

— I think you need to sleep… — Martin grumbled, irritated at having to keep the volume up.

The noise faded into a silence that took over even the once-festive crowd. A different voice was heard in that show of surprises.

It was him, yes, the same man who had so terrified Kenan and his agents. He began to speak...

Everyone in the room was startled, they didn't understand the facts, but Gregory Evans, more than them, was terrified when he recognized the voice. He knew exactly what it meant.

The dialogue between Kenan and his tormentor continued, and everyone who heard and saw was disturbed, trying to decipher the situation. Greg turned to the corner of the room and tried to call Floyd on the communicator, full of questions, but he didn't respond. He must have been solving big problems at the moment, he assumed.

On the screen, it was possible to see Kenan trying to leave, but the voice asked him to continue the conversation, forcing him to stay in the room. They began to talk, but suddenly the transmission was interrupted, which made the young agent's fear grow, as he didn't know what had happened to cause that interruption.

What the hell! Answer Floyd, answer!

When he realized, everyone in the room was looking at him in surprise and inquisitively about that communicator and his close contact with the Inspector General.

With no success in his attempts to contact his superior, he ran to the computer and desperately rummaged through his notes, trying to decipher the man's methods and predict what might happen next.

It was then that Martin warned him:

— Look! Greg! The signal is back!

When he looked, he saw that the transmission had been reestablished, but there was something wrong with it. The image was not the same; it seemed to be an amateur transmission, from the top of a building, more precisely from a balcony, which focused on the stage and showed Kenan in a state of shock on the pulpit, listening to the strange speech of his adversary.

— Look, I don't understand anything... — Breanne grumbled, distressed.

— This isn't right! — Martin said, already noticing something strange in the air. — I'll call someone from the team who's there!

When the sound was restored, the conversation was already moving to another level, the unknown individual saying:

I am the people, Mr. President, and the people are no longer with you!

Having said that, the noise started to sound loud again and, even with the poor quality of the transmission, it was possible to hear everything that was happening there. Seconds of distress later, Greg noticed that some in the room were extremely uncomfortable. Some began to complain of a sudden headache, others felt dizzy. He himself had to lean on his desk, because his vision distorted everything in front of him like waves in the sea and his legs were weakened, almost not allowing him to stand. His brain seemed to implode with pain and he felt a slight drop of blood run down his nose, since his sense of touch was in full ecstasy at that moment. His brain seemed to lose control of his body.

I have to do something... I have to save the President...