My department deals with the aftermath—the grieving families, messy crime scenes and overzealous reporters. At nine every morning, my computer buzzes with updates on new incidents and developing threats. Today, it looks like Poseidon had another temper tantrum and took out a fleet of cargo ships.
“Lenny!” I call, waiting for my portly desk partner to waddle into the office. He always has food in his teeth. Today, it’s something yellow.
“Kobaloi?” he groans, shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth. “Another Internet scam?”
“No, it’s Poseidon.”
Lenny shakes his head. “He’s always moody when the tides change.”
Author’s Note: You’d really need a coffee break after a nine to five in the mythological world.