Phoenix Flight HQ
"Please tell me he's back." Was the first word that came out of Viktor's mouth when he finally popped up in front of Ambrose's door.
Alas, Devon was the one who opened it—he took a step back, gesturing at the empty living room. "And he's still not responding to any of my texts. The calls aren't even connecting anymore."
Viktor strode in, brushing back strands of his snow-white hair. "What about… cameras?" He snapped his fingers, stretching his neck out for a beat. "You could check them out. Maybe see when he left?"
"I know when he left, Viktor." Devon rubbed a hand down his face, his other hand on his waist. "Although—maybe the cameras outside the building could give us a clue on where he went."
"We should put a tracker on him after this."
"You have no idea how much I've begun considering that," Devon walked up to the door. "Let's go."
"The kid is asleep?"
"Yeah, yeah… come on. Let's make this quick."
