Daughter of Zeus ✔

8

Sacra forda, the bastard was a congressman.

And he had changed his name to Moretz, no more Corentin. Two major things Ada should've researched but didn't. All his contacts failed to mention his exact occupation, or name change.

The lawn sign flashed the picture of the man she'd known to be her father. His hazel eyes and dimples were much like her own, and that wasn't all he passed on to his daughter.

She could guess as to why Brontes changed his last name. Not many citizens would vote for a candidate with a drug and crime- riddled past. Sometimes it happened, but Brontes wasn't taking chances. Changing names was an expensive and lengthy process. How had the bastard done it? She remembered how she had acquired her own private stash of funds. Brontes must have found a similar route to riches and influence.

All of the information she found on Corentin—now Moretz—never included his home address. His downtown office was in the public domain, and he was to be reached there by appointment only. She called the number displayed on her wristlet. While pretending to be a healthcare lobbyist, she made an appointment with Moretz's assistant. He was a busy man, she was told, but she was persuasive, and her meeting was pushed up from two weeks to two days.

Her packages of new clothes gave her the disguise she needed. Her new hairstyle helped as well, and she could pass for an ambitious lobbyist.

Over the next two days, she wandered the city. Along her walks and trips on the Marta monorail system, the image on the lawn stayed with her. Moretz's plastic smile. The few times she had met him as a child, he hadn't smiled. He had swayed, slurred, and tried making conversation. Even then, she hated him.

Passing the lawn sign was fate. If she hadn't seen the sign, she would've been leaving town about now. Her earlier plan of visiting Kressick and having his landlord sign off on her departure seemed so far away, like a bad dream fading upon waking. Her life was back on track, and she could finish it with dignity and justice.

Ada imagined what she would say to Moretz. She couldn't start with Hello bastard, I'm your daughter, and I've come to kill you. Perhaps she could say, You killed my husband. Something satisfying like that.

Moretz had passed his powers onto her. He might anticipate her use of them, therefore, she would have to act quickly. She planned on bringing her gun to the meeting. At the moment she pulled the trigger, she would increase the power of the bullet's trajectory by delivering an electric shock through the weapon. Practice, practice, practice.

She found a field with minimal o-plane fly-over in which to try out her idea. With her new method, the bullets fired so fast their disbursement was virtually soundless. She wouldn't require a silencer. When electrified, the bullets also became superheated and burned holes through whatever they came into contact with. She was anxious to see the damage the electric bullets would cause while ripping through her father's body.

Surprisingly, thoughts like those hindered a good night's sleep.

~ * ~