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Incident 1172/284

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The chase


Quick suggestion of music to hear, as you read this entry:

Barkley grabbed the document and quickly ran towards the back door, as he heard the men trying to break open the front door.

He didn’t, however, hear anyone yell “police”, “FBI” or any identification whatsoever, which made him even more certain that he had to run.

Managing to arrive at his car, the journalist desperately drove away into the darkness of the night.

The white van quickly caught up to him, relentlessly chasing Barkley, as he tried his best to dodge incoming traffic.

One hot pursuit was now running wild in this small town, luckily causing almost no accidents, since traffic was pretty low during the night. Nevertheless, this was no walk in the park for Barkley. His heart was pounding his chest like never before. His breathing was heavy. His muscles were heavily contracted as he gripped the wheel Increasingly tighter.


The chase however, wouldn’t last very long, as the van got hit by another vehicle in an intersection.


Feeling much more relaxed now, Barkley decided that it was time to skip town.


“But where do I go now?”


News Report

CHAPTER 2: News Report

Barkley could not believe his eyes. In his 10 years as a journalist, he had never come across a so recent redacted document.

“19 of May? What days is it…. 20?”

During his vacations, Barkley turned off all his electronic devices, so that he could truly rest. But it seemed that this year, this tradition was about to be broken.

He turned on the TV.





As he realized that the page probably contained legitimate information, Barkley sat down by the window, so he could read it carefully.

However, in a quick glance, he noticed a white van outside, parked on the other side of the street.

Suddenly, four men in suits got out of the van.

Barkley had only one thought:




Alone at his vacation house, Vincent Barkley was surprised to hear a knock on door.

"Probably one of those annoying neighbors", he thought, as he got up from the couch, where he was so comfortably reading, and walked to the front door.

But as he opened it, there was no one there to greet him. There was only an envelope on the ground.

On the front of the envelope he saw:


For a moment he thought about just ignoring this cryptic envelope.

“Should I open this?”

“Is it really for me?”

“**** it…”

As he opened the envelope, he found a single page:


"What could this mean?"

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