Chapter Five

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Chapter Five 

Lyra made her way to university parking where her car awaited her. It was far later then she usually went home but the “break” in at one of her labs and by some suspicious men and one of her students whom had been found high as a kite and the intruders who were found beaten and gagged had been a delay in her departure from work, among other matters. 

Lyra then noted silently to herself, speaking of other matters, as she heard the Vulpes' voice from nearby. “I need to ask you a few questions doctor Sinclair” 

Lyra had expected this, it was the likely outcome if the ambush failed and seeing as it had Vulpes coming to her was simply a matter of time. Lyra jumped not that she was surprised but she had to play up that she was. Lyra was after all quite an expert at lying because she was well aware of all the tells and ticks that can betray a person who lies and was quite adept at navigating them. One of the many perks she had discovered in her study of the human mind and human nature. 

She spun around, her expression a careful mask of surprise as she faced Vulpes, who stood in the shadows near the edge of the lot, her gaze sharp and unyielding.

“Oh! You startled me,” Lyra said, pressing a hand to her chest with feigned shock. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

Vulpes stepped forward, her voice low but firm. “One of your students was found in a rather concerning state tonight, Doctor. Chester Wellington. And from what I’ve gathered, he’s deeply involved in something dangerous—something that involves a rather sophisticated concoction.”

Lyra furrowed her brow and bit her lower lip in concerned eyes slowly meeting the yellowed lenses of the Vulpes mask. “Oh, goodness, Chester was my lab assistant, one of the brightest chemistry student’s I’ve had in years, but I can’t imagine he would ever do something like that” Lyra had anticipated if the Vulpes escaped she might find a connection between her and Chester thus Lyra surmised she would flat out say it after all the truth is less suspicious then a lie.

The Vulpes carefully tried to read the Doctor but if she was lying she was rather good at it. She also had to admit to herself that just because he was a favored student of hers that didn’t mean she was pulling his strings. Vulpes didn’t have solid evidence in regards to that and if she acted without evidence that would hardly be just. “A good enough student to develop a tailor made drug from a rather rare selection of medical grade chemicals?”

Lyra gave a slight, practiced frown, as if the very idea puzzled her deeply. “That would be… impressive, yes. But Chester had a unique curiosity, one I encouraged within the safe confines of my lab. I teach my students to push boundaries in a controlled environment, under my guidance.” She hesitated, her gaze softening, giving Vulpes just a hint of vulnerability. “If he went further than that—if he crossed a line—I would be as horrified as you.”

The Vulpes slowly nodded that she was good at reading people but Lyra was presenting a challenge: if she was guilty Vulpes had to make her slip up, but if she was innocent Vulpes didn’t want to harshly interrogate her. “He had an accomplice who helped him acquire the chemicals in a buy from the Italian Mafia, any idea who that be?”

Lyra noted that Vulpes had told the Italian Mafia intentionally, a lie, such as it was the Greeks who Lyra had made the deal with to steal the Chemicals. The Vulpes’ was testing her trying to crack her façade and make her slip. Lyra was amused by this, the Vulpes had no idea the caliber of Doctor Lyra Sinclair's ability to lie and use people. So she continued to play the role of the shocked scientist. 

Lyra widened her eyes and shook her head, as though the very idea was appalling. “The mafia?” she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. “Chester involved with something like that? I can hardly believe it… He never showed any sign of—well, that sort of involvement. He’s always been so quiet, so focused on his studies

Vulpes watched her closely, noting every small detail: the surprise that was a bit too perfect, the way her hands came together just slightly, almost as though she were praying for the shock to pass. It was a polished reaction—one that anyone without experience in reading people might easily accept. Vulpes, however, couldn’t shake the sense that she was walking into a web of carefully spun deceit.

But she also knew when to hold back, when pushing further risked breaking what little cover she had. “You’re certain you never noticed anything suspicious in Chester’s behavior, Doctor? Any changes in his focus, new friends perhaps?”

Lyra tilted her head thoughtfully, as if genuinely reflecting. “Well, now that you mention it, he did seem a bit… distracted recently. He’d stay late in the lab, working on his own experiments, always saying it was part of his thesis. I encouraged his initiative, of course, but in hindsight…” She trailed off, casting her eyes down in what seemed like remorse. “I suppose I should’ve paid closer attention.”

The words were carefully chosen, each one designed to make her sound like a concerned mentor, someone who might regret not catching her student’s wayward actions sooner. Vulpes could see the subtle deflection, the way Lyra tried to position herself as just another piece in Chester’s story, rather than the person potentially pulling his strings. But it was still too seamless—too guarded.

Vulpes kept her tone measured. “I see. Well, thank you for your time, Doctor. I’ll be in touch if I have more questions.”

Lyra gave a small, relieved nod. “Of course. Anything I can do to help, I will. Perhaps, you can look into a new friend he told me about, Wes, I think he called him”

As Vulpes turned to leave, her mind churned with thoughts. If Lyra was the mastermind behind Chester’s sudden descent into crime, then Vulpes would need more than clever questions to uncover it. She’d need proof. But if Lyra truly was innocent, there was still something very calculated about her demeanor. Either way, Vulpes would need to tread carefully.

Once Vulpes had disappeared into the shadows, Lyra’s gaze lingered on the place she had stood, her expression darkening. “Nice try, little fox,” she thought to herself, a cold smile creeping onto her face. She knew the game had only just begun. And if Vulpes wanted to dance, Lyra was more than ready to lead.

Vulpes was very likely to be going after Chester's friend, and accomplice Wes, he knew even less then Chester. In the meanwhile she had to prepare for a special meeting with the board in the morning so she decided to place it out of sight and mind. Let the Vulpes spin her tires in the sand trying to find something that wasn’t there after all she had bigger fish to fry and once the board was dealt with she wouldn't need to steal chemicals ever again.

Vulpes was on her way to her next lead, the other young man who had been with Chester during the sale. Wes, if Doctor Sinclair was to be believed, was the man she was looking for. She opened the door to the Silver Kit and sat down taking only a moment to tune the radio in and call Wolf. “Sinclair didn’t seem involved, she did give me a name though, Wes, might be the guy who was with him, young guy in his early twenties, about five ten, dark brown hair, might have connections with the Greek Syndicate now that I’m thinking on it”

Wolf’s voice crackled through the radio, steady and calm as always. “Got it. I’ll start running any connections I can find between the Greeks and this Wes kid. There’s a chance he’s tied up in more than just a casual partnership if he’s as deep in this as Chester was.” He paused, and Vulpes could hear him clicking away at the keyboard on his end. “If Sinclair gave you his name, she might’ve been trying to throw you off. Or she’s playing innocent. Either way, I’ll keep digging.”

Vulpes drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, feeling the weight of Wolf’s words. “She’s good, Wolf. Calm as still water. If she’s hiding something, it’s buried deep.”

“Yeah, well, if she’s as clean as she’s making herself out to be, I’d still bet she’s the one holding the mop,” Wolf replied dryly. 

“He might be going to college here or adjacent to the college, I’m going to break into the records and see if I can dig anything up, maybe get an address” Vulpes killed the lights of the Silver Kit and slowly pulled up near where she was certain the University kept its records. “I will swing back by Chester's Apartment to maybe see if he has a phone number or something now that I know a name to look for”

“Copy that,” Wolf replied. “I’ll keep monitoring the feed and see if anything pings on Wes. If he’s connected to the Greeks or any local dealers, there might be a trail somewhere in the background checks.”

Vulpes parked the Silver Kit in the shadows near the administrative building where she suspected the student records were kept. It was a quiet part of campus at this hour, the only sound was the faint hum of streetlights and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. She double-checked her gear, then slipped out, her form blending seamlessly with the dark as she approached the building.

The lock on the side door was old, more symbolic than secure. With a few precise twists of her lock-picking tools, she was in, moving swiftly and silently down the empty corridors until she reached the records office. She didn’t expect any security personnel at this hour, but she moved with caution, mindful of any motion sensors or security cameras that could catch a stray shadow.

Inside the records office, she started her search, scanning through the files in the digital database. It didn’t take long to find Chester’s records, and sure enough, his list of associates included a Wesley “Wes” Harper, a fellow psych major with a minor in chemistry—no doubt Sinclair’s influence.

She pulled up his contact details and noted down his current address, which aligned with the information Wolf had pulled. She also spotted a phone number listed as a secondary contact. Perfect.

Satisfied, she closed out of the records and carefully erased any sign of her access before slipping back out of the building. She could check Wes’s place now, or swing back to Chester’s apartment to dig up any other possible connections.

She got back in the kit only for the radio to crackle to life a few minutes later with Wolf replying “Is the kid's name Wes Harper?” 

“Sure is Wolf, what did you get on your end?” Vulpes replied as she pulled out onto a dark street and started on her way to Wes’s apartment.

“He has a few priors and a bit of a rep. The kid has some money and is a big fan of the underground rave scene here in Toronto and all the sex, drugs and techno music that comes with it. Kind of guy who knows a guy that can get stuff I’d bet”

“Sounds like exactly the kind of ‘friend’ Chester would need for access to high-grade chemicals,” Vulpes mused, gripping the wheel as she navigated the empty streets. “And if he’s dabbling in the underground scene, he might know more than just a few people willing to deal in experimental stuff.”

“Exactly. He’s not a major player, but definitely has connections. Few incidents on record—one involving some rough handling of a dealer who tried to cut him off, but nothing he’s ever done time for,” Wolf continued. “And get this—his family isn’t poor, but they’re not exactly loaded either. Whatever money he’s flashing around, it’s not coming from the nine-to-five life.”

“So either he’s dealing on the side or someone’s bankrolling him,” Vulpes concluded. 

She turned onto the street leading to Wes’s apartment, her eyes scanning for signs of movement. "Thanks, Wolf. I’ll handle this quietly, see if I can catch him off guard.”

“Roger that,” Wolf replied, “Watch your back.”

Vulpes parked a block away, tucking the Silver Kit out of sight. She approached Wes’s building with her senses sharp, slipping into the shadows to avoid any passing residents. The apartment wasn’t high-end, but it had a sleek, modern feel—a perfect cover for someone who could afford a bit of luxury without raising questions.

She picked the lock on his door with practiced ease and stepped inside, greeted by the faint smell of incense mixed with something sharper—probably one of those synthetic party drugs he’d gotten his hands on. The place was cluttered with neon rave posters, an array of expensive odds and ends, and discarded clothes. But amid the chaos, Vulpes noticed a small, tidy workspace with a laptop, a few chemistry books, and what looked suspiciously like a drug testing kit.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she murmured, moving to examine the setup more closely. If Wes had any direct connection to Sinclair, it would likely be here, in his records or contacts. She opened the laptop, her fingers flying across the keys as she bypassed the lax security after a few attempt’s.

Within moments, she found a list of recent messages. Wes had been chatting with someone under the username “Summer_of_69” about “consistency” and “batch adjustments”. Summer_of_69 seemed more interested in the results and effects of something than the product. Whereas Wes was clearly focused on the money his supplier seemed to be practically demanding exacting records of the effects and results.

The more Vulpes read, the clearer the picture became. Whoever “Summer_of_69” was, they were treating Wes like an unwitting lab rat, obsessively collecting data on the outcomes of his experimentation. While Wes’s messages hinted at excitement over quick cash and a steady supply, “Summer_of_69” seemed more intent on specific reports—effects on mood, cognitive alterations, even strange requests for reactions to various doses.

Summer_of_69 was using Wes to sell something and getting him to report on the effects, almost as if they were trying to make money while finding free test subjects. She scanned the older texts a bit further until she found just one where Summer_of_69 had sent him a very exacting list of chemicals and told him he would be paid handsomely to get them from his contact. She took out a small micro camera and took a picture of the screen. She had a distinct feeling this was the same chemical that Chester had inhaled and each and every chemical on it had recently been stolen by the Greek Syndicate and sold to Summer_of_69 by way of Chester and Wes. 

Vulpes froze as she heard the door start to open, she had forgotten to lock it behind her, damn it she cursed silently, that was a rookie mistake. She glanced around the apartment looking for a hiding spot before the door opened.

Wes pushed the door open “huh” he looked at the door and tilted his head “Could have swore I locked that before I went out” The college girl who clung to his arm was dressed like Wes has picked her up at a Rave though her dilated eyes and posture were proof she was under the effect of something. 

If it hadn’t been for the girl with Wes or if she didn’t look like she was under the influence Vulpes would have snuck out, but letting Wes here have his fun with her, no not if Vulpes could help it. She was up from her hiding spot behind the couch, both hands grasping the edge of Wes’s jacket and slamming him into the edge of the door frame enough to make his head bounce a little.

Wes let out a startled yelp as his head smacked against the doorframe, his eyes widening in shock as he looked up at the masked figure holding him in place.

“Wha—who the hell are you?” he stammered, trying to twist free.

The girl beside him blinked, swaying on her feet, her gaze unfocused as she registered the scene. Vulpes quickly adjusted her grip on Wes, pushing him further into the doorway and pinning him with her arm across his chest. Her voice was low, controlled, and full of warning.

“Vulpes,” she replied. “And I’m here because you’ve been playing a dangerous game, Wes. Selling drugs, getting people hurt—you’re not just dealing with your average rave supply anymore. So let’s keep this simple. Who’s Summer_of_69, and why are they so interested in your ‘batch adjustments’?”

Wes’s mouth opened and closed, scrambling to find an excuse, but the hardness in her eyes stopped him short. He looked to the girl, who was now leaning against the wall, struggling to keep her balance, then back at Vulpes. Panic flickered across his face.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he blurted, trying to push her arm away. “Look, I just... I just sell stuff, okay? That’s all. Nothing big.”

Vulpes tightened her grip, pressing him firmly against the doorframe. “You and I both know you are lying, and this girl you slipped something on is reason enough for me to rearrange your face or start talking, Wes," Vulpes said coldly, her gaze unwavering. "If you leave anything out, this conversation gets a lot less friendly."

Wes turned pale, his eyes desperately glancing for an escape he struggled but that only made Vulpes press him harder against the wall. 

Wes' lady friend fell back away from the two watching them with glassy eyes, she clearly wasn’t all here and the situation hadn’t fully registered yet as if everything was sinking in all in slow motion for her.

Wes swallowed hard, his bravado crumbling as he realized there was no escape. Vulpes’s unyielding grip, combined with her steely gaze, made it clear that his usual evasions wouldn’t work this time. He shifted his gaze to the girl, whose expression was still slack, lost in whatever haze he’d put her under. A flicker of guilt crossed his face, but it didn’t last long.

“Alright, alright!” he stammered, his voice breaking. “Look, I... I don’t know his real name. This scientist, he just... she goes by Summer_of_69, alright? He said the stuff was experimental, some kinda ‘cognitive enhancer’ or whatever.”

“Cognitive enhancer?” Vulpes pressed. “You mean a drug strong enough to send someone spiraling?”

Wes flinched. “He told me it’d be fine! Said it was... cutting-edge stuff, supposed to make people, like, think clearer, break through mental blocks, that kind of thing. He didn’t say anything about... about bad trips or, y’know, people losing it.” His voice dropped to a whisper, his fear palpable. “Look, she’s the one who wanted all those details on dosage, reactions. It was her thing—I’m just the middleman, I swear!”

Vulpes scanned his face for any sign of deception, her grip still firm on his shoulder. “How do you meet him?”

“Chester, my pal from psych 101, he got me in contact with her online” he said, swallowing. “A café, close to campus, just after closing. I’d drop off what he asked for, cash or product, and she’d give me more of the compound to sell. I didn’t want to ask too many questions—you know?”

“And when they asked you for a list of chemicals you contacted the Greek Syndicate and set up the buy” Vulpes formed her right hand into a threatening fist. 

He swallowed again, panic written across his face. “I-I didn’t think it was like this, okay? I didn’t think it’d be... dangerous.”

Vulpes let out a slow, controlled breath, then loosened her grip on him. “This scientist—he’s going to realize the walls are closing in soon enough. I want a location, a description, and any messages you have from him.”

Wes nodded frantically. “Okay, okay! I’ll get you everything.” He glanced nervously at the girl, then back to Vulpes. “Just… don’t mess me up, alright?”

Vulpes stepped back, allowing him a little breathing room. “If you cooperate, I won’t have to.” She gave him a final, pointed look.

With that, she released her hold, letting him slump against the wall as she straightened, her mind already spinning with the next steps. If this Summer_of_69 was so willing to use this to subject people as unknown experiments they had a dangerous lack of ethics.

Wes stumbled back with a pile of notes and offered them to the Vulpes, she took them then glanced at the young girl who was huddling nearby. “I’m taking her home, and if I find out you tried or try again to take advantage of any other woman in my city I will be coming back and for much less pleasant visit Wes!”

Wes’s face went pale, nodding quickly, too rattled to protest. He leaned against the wall, shaken, as Vulpes cast a final, piercing glance in his direction. She held his gaze for a moment, making sure he understood the gravity of her words. Without another word, she moved over to the young girl, who was still dazed and clinging to the remnants of her hazy night.

“Come on,” Vulpes said gently, offering her a steadying hand. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

The girl blinked, her glazed eyes slowly focusing on Vulpes as she took the offered hand, murmuring a confused “Thank you...” She swayed slightly, and Vulpes wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulder, guiding her out of the apartment and into the quiet night air. Vulpes had seen enough to know she was just another pawn in Wes’s careless games, but she wasn’t about to let this girl pay the price.

Once they reached a safe, well-lit area, Vulpes flagged down a cab, handing the driver a few bills and giving him the address she’d coaxed from the girl. She stayed by the cab window, watching as the girl settled into the backseat, her eyes beginning to clear.

“Get some rest,” Vulpes told her softly. “And if you need help, reach out. There are places that can support you.” She squeezed the girl’s hand once, then stepped back, watching until the cab disappeared into the night.

Vulpes stalked back to the Silver Kit half wishing she had left Wes with a broken jaw but when this all came to light he would be facing jail time and spending time with much less polite company. Coraline Penrose would see to that one and if he slipped free well, it wasn’t like the Vulpes couldn't pay him a follow up visit later. 

Right now she had a pile of messy documents, a list of the stolen chemicals and a den to get back to process them all and figure out just what this new drug was, how dangerous it was and if she was lucky get some idea about this Scientist who he claimed was behind it.

Back in the Silver Kit, Vulpes set the documents down carefully, glancing over the disorganized scrawl of notes and receipts. The list of chemicals alone was a cause for concern—a volatile cocktail of psychoactive substances that, in the wrong hands, could lead to disastrous consequences. She had her suspicions that Lyra Sinclair, with her expertise in both chemistry and psychology, might be using these compounds for something far more sinister than research, but evidence was still not solid enough for her to act directly. 

As she drove back to the Den, her mind raced, replaying Wes’s words and the clues she’d gathered. Lyra’s detached demeanor, the evasive answers—each piece seemed to fit into a larger puzzle, one that hinted at a network of experimentation and reckless ambition, with Sinclair at its heart. If this drug was designed to test the boundaries of human cognition, then the students like Chester and Wes were likely seen as nothing more than disposable assets.

Once inside the Den, Vulpes spread the notes across her workstation, piecing them together methodically. Her gaze fell on the list of effects described in the notes: "euphoria," "hyper-focus," and, chillingly, "identity dissolution.” She couldn’t shake the thought that whatever Sinclair was working on wasn’t just a party drug but something that could fundamentally alter a person’s mind, reshaping their very perception of reality.

Opening her computer, Vulpes pulled up Lyra’s academic history, cross-referencing it with the stolen chemicals. Several lined up with Sinclair’s published works on psychoactive compounds and their effects on cognition. But this was different—these were experiments unbound by ethics, and it was clear that Sinclair had crossed every line in pursuit of her vision.

Her fist clenched as she took it all in. Whatever Sinclair was planning, Vulpes knew it was her responsibility to stop it before more lives were destroyed. The next step was to get closer, to find that drop-off location and intercept the handoff. She wasn’t sure what Sinclair’s endgame was, but she was about to find out—one way or another.

John appeared from one of the adjacent rooms with a paper in hand “Well checking the list of chemicals with the sample we have, your hunch was right, Whatever this chemical is, it's a cocktail of agents known and some known, its like LSD turned up to 11”

Vulpes scowled and her fingers flew over the keyboard of her computer she still needed more evidence. A motive, her gut told her Doctor Sinclair was involved but she couldnt just act on gut instinct alone, that wasn’t how justice worked and if Sinclair was innocent she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she made a mistake.

Vulpes narrowed her eyes, her fingers gliding over the keys as she pulled up every article, publication, and interview connected to Doctor Lyra Sinclair. She sifted through headlines, academic journals, and medical board reviews, hoping for something—a clue, a controversy, anything that might paint a clearer picture of Sinclair’s true nature.

Several articles lauded Sinclair’s work in neurochemistry, especially her recent advancements with psychoactive compounds. Some journals called her a “pioneer in understanding the mind,” with a focus on using controlled psychedelics to treat mental health conditions. But as she dug deeper, she began noticing more contentious articles.

A few pieces from local news outlets hinted at tension between Sinclair and the university administration. Anonymous sources described her as “obsessive,” “uncompromising,” and “willing to push ethical boundaries.” One former lab assistant had even filed a formal complaint against her, citing an “inhumane approach” to her studies and a tendency to treat students more as tools than as people. The complaint, it seemed, was quietly settled, leaving Sinclair’s reputation unscathed.

Then, she found a piece from a couple of years back that caught her eye: “Doctor Lyra Sinclair Advocates for Unorthodox Psychedelic Trials in Mental Health Treatment.” The article described how Sinclair had openly clashed with colleagues who questioned the safety of her methods, particularly when she’d proposed fast-tracking human trials. Sinclair’s public stance was that “innovation requires bold steps”—but several peers had questioned whether her “boldness” bordered on recklessness.

Vulpes paused, her gaze fixed on the screen. The woman described here wasn’t just ambitious; she was someone with an intense, possibly dangerous drive to prove herself, whatever the cost. And now that drive seemed to be pointing toward something far darker.

She leaned back, thinking. “John, this woman has a history of pushing limits. Publicly, she’s all about mental health and advancing science, but there’s a trail of people who’ve raised alarms about her methods—and each time, she’s walked away unscathed.”

John crossed his arms, frowning. “Sounds like she’s got a pattern. Makes you wonder just how far she’d go if she thought nobody could stop her.”

Vulpes nodded. “And if she’s trying to push that boundary again with something as volatile as this drug... then this isn’t just about a few students. It’s about control, and maybe even a twisted sense of achievement.”

Vulpes stood from her chair and looked at the clocks on the Den Wall, it had been a long night and extensive research had taken hours. “I hate to work day shift but I need to pay a house call to Doctor Sinclair and see if I can find any evidence at her house” 

John glanced at the clocks then at Vulpes who was on her way to the Silver Kit. “The Vulpes out in the light of day? Don’t let the other masked vigilantes know they might kick you out of the secret club”

Vulpes smirked as she slid her gauntlets back on. “Let them try. Besides, Sinclair seems to think she’s untouchable. Maybe a visit in broad daylight will remind her that she’s not as clever as she thinks.”

John gave a low chuckle. “Just be careful. Someone like Sinclair might have her own brand of security, especially if she knows you’re onto her.”

Vulpes paused briefly and considered “I don’t think she does, she gives me the impression of someone who thinks they are the smartest person in the room and everyone else is just a pawn in their game” 


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