A feeling of suspense filled the air. The soldiers had come back to the door after they saw that Zabi had taken down Ross, eyes locked on the figure—a piece of the puzzle no one saw coming.
"Who is that? I can't see his face properly!"
"I think I saw him in one of the files at HQ!"
"He's a new detective—Armstrong is the name!"
They whispered among themselves, discussing like students about to make a presentation, eyes fixed on the uninvited guest.
Armstrong tried to talk to Ross, but their voices distracted him.
"You over there!"
He called out loud, pointing with the hand that held the coffee at the soldiers standing by the door, watching everything.
The night light gasped at his weird orange hair—it made him stand out, unreasonably so.
"Ah!"
They gasped in surprise. It was the first time someone had tried to communicate with them in such a predicament, and it shook them to the core.
"I want someone to hold the coffee cup for me!"
