Requested by rullety_1412

This one has some futuristic stuff in it.

ENTJ (male) x INTP (female)

“God, please no,” Vino Nilsen grumbles under his breath upon hearing the news his assistant, Riggs, informed him just a moment ago.

Nilsen is a private detective – one of the leading detectives of Colnpres Agency, and he is someone who knows to never depend on anyone, especially during a new investigation.

But this particular investigation: a certain case of bank robberies that are all connected, is the hardest one yet.

It first started when a certain prominent bank in his city got robbed. There were no witnesses of the crime because the robbers seemed to hack the security cameras in the bank and…each person in the bank during that time was shot dead.

They left no fingerprint or any sign of them being there which baffled the police department. One of the police officers then visited the Coln Press Agency to ask for their help. That was how Nilsen became part of the investigation.

He has been working on it for the past week, but it is proving to be difficult to find new leads. Every new piece of information they uncover leads to a dead end in their investigation path. Because of this stump, the news has spread to other agencies, and eventually, to one of the leading agencies in the world of criminal investigations.

The Summum Bonum. TSB.

Nilsen has never liked that agency. Each agent he met has been a pompous freak show. Sometimes he thinks that they are not humans but robots in disguise.

The one he despises the most is a certain Agent Lillian Labrada.

He remembers that he met her around a year ago during a missing person's case in the city. He hated how she was such an overbearing know-it-all behind her genteel self.

And now he's pissed to find out from Riggs that they'll be expecting her presence due to the recent bank robbery.

“Didn’t I tell you that if ever TSB would call again, you would immediately turn them down? Why didn’t you do that?” Nilsen scolded Riggs. He stood to walk to the window behind his desk which overlooks the busy street of cars and pedestrians making their way to wherever they need to go.

His hands rest on his hips, keenly watching outside to see if the familiar Rolls-Royce of TSB will pull up in front of the ten-story building.

“Detective Nilsen, TSB might be able to help us find the robbers,” Riggs explained. “We’ve been having dead-ends in our investigations except–” He stops as Nilsen raises a hand at him.

“I know what you’re trying to say,” Nilsen murmurs, his voice hinting at dejection. “We both have a working theory on our hands, Riggs. But how certain are you that Agent Labrada would believe us? The theory is too outlandish, something that seems unlikely to happen.”

“But still possible, detective.”

Nilsen turns to look at his assistant. Riggs had a lot of hope in his eyes. Nilsen could see it from where he stood. Breathing out softly a sigh of defeat, he says, “I will give Agent Labrada a chance, but if she doesn’t show her support then withdraw Colnpres from TSB. I’m not going to waste another minute with them. Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal.”

Three knocks are then heard from the other side of the door. One followed the after in equal millisecond intervals.

Both men knew who it is.

Nilsen juts his head toward the door and Riggs receives the non-verbal command to open the door. When he finally does so, a woman in a grey pantsuit is revealed. Her hands, covered in satin gloves, are clasped together. Her hair is fixed in a sleek bun, not one stray strand in sight. She greets the men in a gentle manner, “Good day, Detective Vino Nilsen and Assistant Riggs.”

“Good day to you as well, Agent Labrada,” Riggs greets her back but Nilsen only grunts from the side. Riggs steps backward to give Labrada enough space to enter the detective’s office.

Nilsen eyes her warily even as he takes a seat behind his desk. “Sit, Labrada.” He gestures toward the free chair in front of his desk.

Labrada saunters toward his desk, no emotion betraying her cool countenance. Silently, she takes a seat and props a leg over the other and begins to take off her gloves to neatly lay the pair on her lap.

Nilsen scoffs, “Back with the gloves again, Labrada? Do you always think that my agency is dirtier than yours?”

“It is not a matter of filth, detective,” she replies levelly, “rather it is a standard procedure of my department.” It looked as if she did not take offense to Nilsen’s verbal jab.

“Anyway, get on with whatever you need to do so that our business is over and done with, got that?”

“Yes, I understand, detective. May I ask what you have been able to uncover from the past weeks of investigations?”

“A lot–”

“Mostly dead ends, Agent,” Riggs cuts his boss off, informing the agent without beating around the bush. Nilsen, though, wasn’t happy with what his assistant did.

“Riggs!” He exclaimed.

“Detective, Agent Labrada needs to know–”

“Not in that way,” Nilsen spat out.

“Gentlemen,” Labrada suddenly chimes in, her voice smooth and clear. With one word, she was able to demand obedience from them. “I have been made aware of your progress. I simply wanted to know if there is anything that you might be keeping from others. You may confide in me.”

There is a certain gut feeling in Nilsen that seems like she is trying to lead them on, yet at the same time, Labrada is someone on their side. She just has to be a weird person who acts so refined – too refined for a normal human being.

“What about you, Labrada?” He inquires, “Any new leads on your end?”

She shakes her head. “Unfortunately, we were not given anything regarding the current investigation.”

Nilsen furrows his brows. “Then why are you here to ‘help’?”

Labrada reaches inside her suit jacket and pulls out a piece of paper to hand over to the man. “It is best if you read through this document before I start to explain.”

Nilsen takes the paper from her and unfolds it to read through the words. He gasps softly, his eyes then fly back to look at her. “This bank robbery isn’t the first of its kind?”

Labrada nods. “Five months ago. Jonasson Bank. No traces were left and everyone was shot dead. Exactly what happened in your city. There is plausibly a connection between these two robberies.”

Riggs peers into the document as well then whisper, “Detective, your theory.”

His words caught Labrada’s attention. “Theory?” She asked delicately.

“No, no, the theory has nothing to do with this.”

“Detective, if I may,” Labrada begins, “agents at TSB have also been stuck in this investigation for five months. Any theory that you propose might work. I am not one to judge.”

Nilsen rests an elbow on his desk and leans forward to look closely at the agent sitting across. “Labrada, this is not to be taken lightly.”

“I take every investigation seriously, detective,” she assures him.

“Then do you believe in mind control, Labrada?” Nilsen awaited a shocked expression or a sudden burst of laughter from the agent, but her face stayed the same. The same expressionless face.

“What about mind control, detective?”

“All autopsies revealed that the victims of the bank robbery were shot in their heads,” Nilsen begins to explain and Labrada quietly brings out a notepad and pen to write down her notes. “Riggs and I spent a lot of hours studying the pictures of the bodies, especially the spot in their heads where the bullet went through. Most of the victims showed that a bullet went through, Labrada.”

“A two-millimeter bullet, wasn’t it?”

“Exactly. Yet, three of the victims stood out.”

Labrada was starting to appraise him in a dubious manner. “How so, detective?”

“The skin on the head indicates that a bullet penetrated their heads, but three had a different outcome in the skin.” Nilsen throws a glance at Riggs who was listening attentively to what he was saying. He clears his throat before he continues, “It baffled Riggs and me because it was as if the bullet never entered the bodies of the three victims.”

Labrada looks up from jotting down her notes. “You are implying that…”

“That three of the victims were not shot from the outside. Rather, it was as if they were shot from the inside, instantly killing them.”

“Yet a bullet was found in the heads of each victim, am I correct?”

Nilsen knew that he was slowly losing her with this crazy theory. But he knows his eyes would never lie to him. He knows what he saw and studied. He just couldn’t understand how it happened. “Yes,” he replies curtly.

Labrada tucks her notepad and pen back inside her jacket and gingerly slips her fingers through her gloves. After, she stands, her posture still stout and dignified. “Detective, assistant, thank you for your time.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the office without another word.

Nilsen felt like he was rejected.

He should have seen this from the very beginning. TSB agents are nothing but dismissive when it comes to theories like his or whenever they are not from the same agency or organization.

“What an absolute waste of time,” he seethes out just as Labrada left.

“...I was expecting more from her,” Riggs whispered, his eyes still glued on the door that was closed by Labrada. “In the end, she’s just like everyone else.”

Nilsen wanted to kick his chair. “All TSB agents are the same. They think that others are not worth their time,” he mutters bitterly.

Riggs then looks at her seat and finds a piece of paper Labrada must have left behind from her notepad. He takes it and reads what is written on it. “...Perhaps we may have judged too easily, detective,” he says at length. Riggs then hands over the piece of paper to Nilsen. “Labrada left an address and another note–”

“Anders shall take you after work,” Nilsen finishes, reading out loud the last line on the note.

“Who is Anders?”

“Her driver.”

—---------

Anders spoke not a word during the whole time he drove Nilsen to the apartment building written by Labrada. The driver didn’t even ask where Nilsen was headed to. He knew already.

Labrada made sure of it.

28th floor. 28H.

Nilsen followed what was written and took the elevator to the 28th floor. It wasn’t difficult to find the apartment. He checked the piece of paper again and pressed the numbers of the door lock. It beeps three times and the door opens on its own. Nilsen pushes it open and enters the apartment, a large living room is the first thing he spots. Everything about the apartment is all modern and very minimal decorations are placed on some of the countertops and tables.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation.” A disembodied voice comes from the side and Nilsen instantly checks his right to find Labrada standing at the end of what seems like a long corridor leading to more different rooms.

This is clearly one of the most expensive apartments someone would rent in the city. It would cost an arm and a leg to even purchase this whole place for yourself.

“I’m surprised that you would want to speak with me after telling you my theory.”

She regards him with a small smile on her face. She then explains, “It was not safe for you to divulge such information unless you wish your life to be terminated permanently. None of us are sure if your office is even considered safe.”

“And you thought that inviting me to your home is safer?” He questioned. His eyebrow raises skeptically.

Labrada’s smile has not yet disappeared. “Who said I reside here?”

Nilsen pauses for a moment. In the corner of his eye, he notices a set of three frames hanging on the wall adjacent to a bookshelf filled with some hardbound philosophical books and succulent plants. The people featured in the picture of each frame seem like those stock photo actors. “…You're good.”

“Only practical.” Her face then returns to her monotonous self. “Come. Join me at the dining table. I have a few pictures to show you.” She walks first and Nilsen follows.

The dining table is purely made out of glass but what attracts Nilsen’s full attention are the three pictures laying beside each other. Three pictures of three heads of different people. They look like the autopsy images he saw a week ago. Nilsen looked at each picture carefully, taking note of every nuance in each person. “Where did you get these, Labrada?”

“These victims are from the Jonasson Bank robbery. I too have noticed the minute difference between these particular victims and the rest.”

Nilsen grabs the picture closest to him and raises it to his face to take a closer look. He sees how the skin on their head wound looks exactly like the skin of the victims he studied.

Labrada continues, “I understood when you mentioned that it looked as if they were shot from the inside.”

Nilsen angrily slams the picture back on the table, making a loud sound. Thankfully, the table did not break from the impact. “Why did you not mention any of this?!” He exclaimed.

Labrada was still calm though. “There is some information that I am forbidden to share–”

“Oh, bullshit. Just say that it is your stupid agency acting pansophical–”

“It is my stupid agency acting pansophical–”

“Not in a literal way!”

Labrada had the temerity to smile out of newfound amusement.

Nilsen scowled at her. “Stop acting like a smartass. I don’t like that.”

“I find it rather amusing.”

He rolls his eyes and shifts his gaze back to the pictures on the table. As much as he wants to stay mad at the agent, it is impossible for him to do so because a realization comes to mind: this is a lead in some way. Perhaps his theory might be right after all.

“Speaking of which, you said pansophical,” Labrada murmurs. “Pansophism.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Comenius. Czech philosopher.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop acting like a smartass?”

“A myriad of apologies. It is a habit I am unable to break.”

Nilsen decided not to say anything back. It would be useless to do so.

“May I ask, would you know the occupations of your three victims, detective?” Labrada asks, finally returning to their current topic. Her face has gone all serious again.

“The three of them worked at the bank. That detail caught my attention. A security guard, the bank manager, and a clerk.”

Labrada hums in acknowledgment. “We have a lead then. My three victims had the same occupations. Would you believe that there are no traces of the robbers because they were never there in the first place?”

“That is the basis of my theory,” he whispered.

“Is that why you believe there may be a case of mind control in this situation?”

Nilsen then shakes his head. “I know, it’s crazy…but I can’t erase the thought in my head that in some way a microchip, in the shape and size of the smallest bullet, managed to be placed in their brains. Listen to me, Labrada, there was no security camera footage of the whole robbery and there were no problems with bringing all the money out of the vault. How could these robbers know so much about a bank without even working there? Only important bank employees are given special clearance regarding some details about the bank. And these so-called employees clearly do not work for the robbers because they are all dead.”

“Microchips,” Labrada breathes out. She has considered the same idea, but it seems too unrealistic. “This poses a bigger problem then. Detective, we may be dealing with some new kind of technology that no one except the robbers is aware of. A self-exploding microchip that could maintain its shape and pose as a bullet wound. Such an ingenious device.”

“A deadly one, too, Labrada. If they can control banks, how much more if they begin to mess with bigger institutions? Imagine taking away certain government leaders. These robbers, or criminals rather, have the key to our own self-destruction.”

“...And that’s why they’re stealing from banks first. They need the money to make more.”

“And so that they can kill more and eventually take over what is left.”

Labrada set her lips into a tight line. She shakes her head. “This should not happen.” She throws her gaze in Nilsen’s direction. “Detective, we need to put an end to this. We need each other’s cooperation as well as our agencies.”

As much as Nilsen still has this feeling of resentment towards TSB, he does admit that his and Labrada’s knowledge together could lead to an end of this monstrosity that could lead to the end of human civilization.

Their investigation together might start small.

But it’s better than being in a slump for the past week.

And his theory has a huge bearing on the new lead.

“Then what are we still doing here? Let’s get going, Labrada.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you liked this! I actually planned a few more parts for this :)

I got a lot of inspiration from one of my current favorite fictional characters, Special Agent A.X.L. Pendergast.

And I swear, y'all love them ENTJ people HAHA because most of the next requests I will be writing have ENTJ as half of the pair.

Some positive traits of ENTJ: theoretical, self-confident, action-oriented

Some positive traits of INTP: calm, intellectual, precise