Chapter Two
Nothing Personal
March 17. Saturday 6.15 PM. Edinburgh.
The autonomous Maglev vehicle left the magnetized route, and parked in front of one of the apartment complexes where Rabin Patel lived, in the Prestonfield district. The vehicle was not necessarily an old model, although the worn paintwork indicated that it needed to be serviced. But that didn't matter to the occupants. The vehicle was stolen just a few minutes earlier.
The man and woman inside the vehicle crossed their gazes, then looked toward the building. Given the circumstances, everything had been a little fast but they had been able to improvise.
"He's inside, isn't he?" The man asked, with a frown.
The woman replied with a serious look. "Yes. Let's go before he gets away. No taser."
The man sighed. "Whatever."
The woman had dark hair tied in a bun. She appeared to be young and had almond-shaped eyes under thick eyebrows. She wore an overall suit, an a jacket, with Department of Justice insignia on her right shoulder and the acronym MCIT/FU on the back, which credited her as part of the Major Crimes Investigation Team's Forensic Investigation Unit.
The man, meanwhile, a rugged-looking man with pronounced chin and cheekbones, blond hair and dark eyes, was dressed simply in a brown leather jacket, with a black thermal T-shirt and pants of the same color.
They both got out of the vehicle and while the woman headed for the main entrance of the building, her partner went up the emergency stairs at the back, into the alley, trying to evade primary surveillance and cameras. The woman had passed her ID at the entrance, and the reader had recognized it as that of someone authorized to enter the building. The man did not have it so easy.
"Damn stairs, it's always me," the man mumbled, as he watched some cats fleeing the alley, caught red-handed foraging for food in a garbage can. The man bent down to take a leap and jumped two and a half meters to reach the staircase, while his companion, more comfortable, took the elevator.
Rabin Patel was currently in his room on the third floor, finishing changing for work. He was a young man, with short dark hair and brown eyes. He recently decided to grow a beard, because his appearance, and short stature, made him look like a teenager.
He and his friends were playing in one of the Another Earth worlds, hunting dragons in a battle simulation over Sweden. The campaign was going well, when an alarm went off at just after six o'clock in the evening, with an announcement that he would have to go into work a little early. There had been a death and, so as not to make a fuss about the change of personnel on the hour, he was being called in early to start his shift.
He took a quick shower and changed at lightning speed, as his partner, Ann, would be picking him up to go to the MCIT buildings, and from there they would have to change vehicles, to get into one of the forensic department's vans to head to the site.
"Work, work," he muttered, as he zipped up his coveralls and put on his jacket.
He hoped that a couple of years would be enough to be able to work directly in the labs at the MCIT facility, as a screening forensic scientist, rather than having to go back and forth with the forensic field team. Not that he hated his current job, but he certainly felt more at home in a lab than with the FFU. Plus the pay was much better.
He was rambling on, when he felt the knock on the apartment door. That was strange since his partner never came up to look for him, she almost always just sent messages through the Neurowire chat room.
[Hurry up, what are you doing? I'm out here, at least open the door for me, you wanker]. That was the message that appeared in one of the personal chat applications of his Neurowire.
[I'm coming.] Rabin opened the door for his partner, who was waiting with a grim look on her face. "I was just coming down," he said, and then looked at her hairdo.
It was odd. He couldn't remember ever seeing Ann with a bun in the time he'd known her. Although he couldn't deny that it made her look a little older. He and Ann had graduated in forensic science at the same time, and were friends, as well as colleagues, for months when they both went to work for the Department of Justice as attachés at MCIT.
Where is that idiot? the woman thought.
"Change of look?" Patel asked.
I tied my hair back because it was a nuisance. This woman wears it down? Damn it. The woman gritted her teeth, but gave an apologetic smile. "Yeah, I think maybe I should cut it a little."
"It would look good on you, I think."
Patel disappeared to his room, to finish packing the backpack he always carried to work, with an extra change of clothes. In the meantime the woman took a quick glance around the room. It was quite tidy inside, though the miniature creatures filled the place a bit too much, not to mention some dragon paintings.
One of those dragon freaks... Ann thought.
Patel's voice from the next room brought her out of her quick inspection. "So, did you think about what I said?"
Ah, shit... What did he say to her? I have no data on that. The woman clicked her tongue and just said. "About what?"
Patel came out with his backpack over his shoulder and looked at her. "Wales. Next weekend. Going to the Llyn Brianne reserve to see the new dragons."
The woman thought about it for a few seconds before answering. "Honestly, I haven't thought about it yet."
"It's a unique spectacle, watching the little ones hatch from eggs. There's going to be a lot of people there."
"What's the point? They're just big lizards."
Patel looked at her quizzically. "I thought you wanted to go. I know they're big lizards. Still, if it weren't for the Dark Events phenomena they wouldn't exist. How many times have you had the opportunity to see something that only existed in the imagination, centuries ago, become a reality?"
Too many I'd say... Stan, where the hell are you? Ann was getting impatient. What a mess of a job they' d given us.
"Well, come on!" Patel said, approaching the door.
He put his finger on the door reader and opened it. Ann sighed in relief, but Patel was surprised to see a man taller than him looking back at him, with a sort of crooked grimace. He was more surprised, though, when he saw a huge fist coming straight for his face. He dodged it, passing just inches past his ear.
"Sorry, nothing personal," the man said.
Patel stepped back and collided with Ann. He was even more surprised when he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head.
"Oh, what the bloody hell?" the woman complained as she pulled her hand away. The back of Patel's neck was incredibly hard. "Damn enhancements."
The man charged Patel again and, for a few seconds, the whole place became a jumble of punches, kicks and insults as the two thugs tried to cut Patel down. Patel knew how to fight pretty well, Stan thought when a fist went straight for his left eye. The woman saw the opportunity and from behind grabbed him by both arms, and the man punched him in the ribs. Patel spit out some of what he had drunk only a few hours before and tried to escape, breaking free of the fake Ann's grip, but he was not fast enough to dodge another blow from the man. A rock-hard punch landed squarely in the pit of his stomach and Rabin Patel bent forward, and received another punch, to his face, which this time he could not dodge and collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness.
"The wanker socked me in the eye! What the hell does this bastard have in his hands? Steel enhancements?" complained the man, rubbing the right side of his face.
The woman collapsed on the couch for a moment and spit out some blood, feeling a loose molar.
"The taser would have been faster," Stan said.
"Yeah right, and it would have set off the NW health system alarm. These guys have better systems because they're justice department personnel," the woman replied, crouching down in front of the body. "Now give me a second."
"Whatever," grumbled the man, annoyed, as he blinked, still sore from the blow.
Through her Neurowire, the fake Ann established a link with the unconscious Rabin Patel, and entertained herself by copying basic biometric security data for a few moments. Just enough to fool the Department of Justice and MCIT scanning systems, along with passwords. They weren't going to need all that for sure but, in their line of work, it had to be meticulous or they could be caught in the stupidest detail.
"Put that data in your profile," she said, sending the data pack to the man's Neurowire.
The man bent down, pressing one of the buttons on his jacket. Then he looked at Rabin Patel for a few seconds, as if studying him. The man's physiognomy changed, becoming shorter and the clothes were replaced by the overalls and jacket Rabin was wearing. Finally his face was transfigured and there, like a twin, was a new fake Rabin Patel.
"Wow, this guy is really a dwarf," said the man, smiling. "Maybe that's why he hits so hard."
"Help me already," the woman spat, pulling out a few plastic zip ties from her jacket.
The real Rabin Patel would wake up several hours later, not knowing what happened, with his Neurowire turned off and tied up in his closet, next to the dragon miniatures he loved so much.
