1. Decisive.
Tampa, Florida
March 19th, 2013.
Orion Volkov, Age 42.
“And when will your next appointment be, sir?”
“You make it, I’m terrible with dates.”
“Ok sir, your next appointment will be in about two weeks from now, on the 6th of April. Thank you for consulting with Hartford Therapy, have a wonderful day!”
“You're welcome, you too.”
He hung up the phone. Being a veteran never got better. He was treated like glass, as if he was fragile to the slightest gust of wind. He had three tours in Afghanistan and saw war at its finest. (as in, saw its worst qualities) Afraid of visiting the doctor, his wife had gotten therapy for it. It wasn’t that Orion didn’t like the doctor, it’s that he was afraid of the diagnosis. Leaning on his kitchen counter, he counted how many times he avoided a consultation with a medical professional. Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick. What time was it? He looked at the clock on the wall. 4:23 PM. He should have eaten something. Walking to the door to go outside to cool off, he hears a knock. He froze and reached towards his gun; he was somehow licensed to carry one. They knocked fiercely.
“Orion Volkov?”
He opened the door.
“Detective Everest and Detective Sanchez.”
“Detectives. What brings me the... pleasure? Im b-”
He lowered his hand from his gun.
“We know. And we need your help.”
“...For what? I don’t want any affairs with the government currently, I just want to stay home with my wife.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
"...What?"
"You heard me, Orion."
The detective looks around, scanning.
"Fuck are you-"
"This is too important to talk about here, you understand me? Come down to the precinct, and we'll talk about your involvement with this."
He sighed and thought.
“Fine.”
