PARIS, FRANCE

He and Jordan had been sent on a mission to Paris. A model had exploded—very literally—outside a restaurant after attacking people during a fashion show, where she suddenly went insane and began assaulting others, apparently in search of water, leaving both injured victims and casualties. The model exploded right outside the venue in front of a group of Parisian police officers.

The news spread everywhere, across the internet and on TV, broadcasting footage of the model in pieces.

Cooper and Jordan were staying at the Hotel Marmont, a place that was practically falling apart—like it would crumble if you leaned too hard against the walls. It was disgusting, but they were there for work. They did some investigating into the possibility that the model had some kind of bomb inside her or something similar, but there wasn’t much left of Ruby to analyze. Still, something abnormal was detected, and upon checking her background, it turned out that the model wasn’t the same person as in the photographs—Ruby had actually been an overweight, unattractive woman. But she must have had surgeries, they assumed, and continued digging deeper.

They went to the modeling agency Ruby had worked for, since it was still Paris Fashion Week. None of the models knew Ruby well enough—or they simply looked them up and down, especially Jordan. Of course, among young women, a middle-aged woman was like looking at Quasimodo. Cooper exhaled, rubbing his forehead before noticing a model who was still getting ready, and they approached her quickly—he didn’t have time to be ignored again.

“Miss, could we speak with you? We’re FBI agents—Agent Madsen, and my partner, Agent Bennett” Cooper said, showing his badge.