Lucas's office had been quiet for exactly thirteen minutes before the next report arrived.
That was not enough time for him to calm down. It was barely enough time for the anger from the previous report to settle into something less explosive, and the moment one of his underlings stepped through the door with another folder tucked under his arm, Lucas already knew the day had found a way to become worse. The man did not look confident. None of them looked confident lately. They entered his office with the expression of people carrying a bucket of piss toward a burning house, fully aware that it was not going to help and that someone was still going to blame them for the smoke.
Lucas sat behind his desk, fingers tapping against the wood with slow, heavy impatience. "Say it."
The underling swallowed. "Sir, there has still been no confirmed contact with the Anonymous record holder."
For a moment, Lucas simply stared at him.
Then his chair scraped back.
