Prologue: Black Starts His Game

The man clad in black came to The Senator, holding a gun, and asked him, 

"Answer me!"

"What did you ask?"

The person, who looked to him a black king, sighed and pulled the trigger.

The next day was about the murder. News channels, drones, confused voices, they all were in that location. It was sure that the killer wanted to make the police sitting ducks. 

A taxi pulled up in front of the crime scene.

The Superintendent of police came.

The media crowded on him, asking questions, some scribbling some words into their book.

He only answered one thing. 

"We will get this man to Justice."

"Sir what are your ex-"

He left that place, towards the crime scene with the sound, 'Sir, Sir, Sir, Sir, Sir, Sir.' behind him. 

He received a call.

It was from Washington D.C.

He never received calls recently from Washington D.C.

He was terrified when he saw what number.

The number was 202-456-1111.

The White House.

"I need you to find the damn killer by tomorrow! This Senator was a respected member of the Capitol! Where is the Justice?"

I can promise you, President, that the killer will be in front of you by tomorrow evening.

"Evening you say, okay."

He cut the phone.

Another call.

He was not angry; he needed more information.

The call answered. A rough tone.

"Good day, monsieur."

He cut the phone.

The Superintendent, whose name was John, knew then that this would be the longest chase of his in his life.