It was early afternoon. So far it had been so hot that the four of them had preferred not to leave the apartment. "Twenty-seven... twenty-eight... twenty-nine..." Yuri gasped, tensing his muscles. The apartment was small and space was limited. A membership in a nearby gym was out of the question, simply because of the cost, so they had to come up with something to keep from getting completely rusty. So Abigail sat cross-legged on Yuri's back, reading a book on programming languages while he did push-ups in the living room. Her petite stature made her the ideal extra training weight for the giant, whose bulging muscles moved rhythmically up and down. However, the rocking motion had a slightly sleep-inducing effect on Abigail, and she had to concentrate hard to keep her mind on the difficult text. She would have preferred to just close her eyes and doze off a bit, but she bravely stayed awake. Unlike Ralph, who had already fallen asleep on the couch and was snoring with his mouth open. Suddenly the phone rang and Harry came rushing out of the kitchen.
"What, how, where am I?" grumbled Ralph, who had been awakened by the loud noise and was now struggling to sit up.
"I'll get it," Harry said and picked up the phone. A deep voice sounded at the other end after Harry had said his greeting. At least that much Ralph, Yuri and Abigail could hear. "Yeah right, yeah, where exactly? In the North Quarter? Yes, I'll write down the address..." Harry confirmed, writing on the notepad he had placed next to the phone, just in case. "And when? Sure, about an hour and a half. All right, we're on our way." Then he hung up. "Guys, looks like we're going to get our first job before dinner! Get ready, we're going to the North Quarter to meet a man in an abandoned apartment. He won't say what it's about over the phone, he wants to talk to us in person," he explained to the others. They looked at him in surprise and stood up immediately.
"Finally something starting," Yuri said as Abigail carefully climbed down from his back.
"That yellow pages thing really wasn't such a bad idea. Good thing I remembered that the paper edition only comes out once a year..." grinned Abigail, who was thievishly pleased that she had managed to hack into the Yellow Pages server of the Teletext Internet and leave an entry for TRAP. Harry just grunted as he came out of the bedroom with his backpack and sword. A few minutes later they were all in the car together, and Ralph drove off, overly conscientious and careful, after Harry had given him the destination address. Apparently he was really serious about his new job and probably didn't want to get fired after the first trip. Fortunately, he knew the city very well, especially the nastier parts. After a little more than an hour, they arrived at a prefabricated building typical of the North Quarter. The crumbling walls were covered in graffiti, the surrounding manhole covers gave off an unpleasant smell in the heat, and the cacophony of traffic was mixed with the shouts of angry passersby and barking dogs. As Ralph parked the car, a radio flew through a closed window not far in front of them and crashed to the pavement. While Abigail jumped in shock, Ralph just grinned.
"Business as usual," he remarked as the others got out of the car.
"You wait, don't let evil strangers get close to you," Yuri nodded to Ralph, who laughed and patted the gun under his jacket. "Yep, sure," he replied, pulling a pencil and a well-worn crossword puzzle book with lots of pictures of pretty pin-up girls out of the glove compartment.
"What floor this time?" Abigail asked Harry.
"Ninth," he replied. "And even if they have an elevator here, I'll take the stairs..." Then he stomped off to the front door and the others followed. No sooner said than done, they went up, floor by floor, past countless apartment doors, behind which must have been stories that no one really wanted to hear.
"Strange he chose this dump to meet us," Abigail remarked as they reached the ninth floor.
"Camouflage," Harry replied with a shrug. Then he grabbed the knob of the third door from the left and turned it. It was unlocked, just as the man on the phone had said. Together they entered the run-down apartment. Empty beer cans, various clothes and old magazines lay on the floor. A few mice climbed up and down the shower curtain in the bathroom, which could be seen from the entrance. Yuri reached for his pistol, which he had tucked into the back of his pants as usual, and looked around with a questioning look on his face, while Abigai pulled two rubber gloves out of her bag and put them on. You could see how much she had to control herself.
"Over here, please come closer," a deep voice came from the living room. Harry nodded to his companions and led the way. Sitting in a dusty brown leather chair was a well-dressed man in a black suit. He also wore a black hat with a wide brim, which he pulled down over his face to hide his eyes. In his hand he held a lit cigarette, which he puffed on with relish. The blinds were all down about three-quarters of the way, letting in very little light. The warmth of the day intensified the haze in these rooms in an unpleasant way. What could be seen in the dim light, however, was that the man had a large jar of pickled octopus sitting on a stool beside him.
"Look, they're finally here," he said conspiratorially to the octopus as the three entered the room. The TRAP team looked at the strange man with irritation.
"He wasn't seriously talking to the octopus, was he?" Abigail whispered to Harry. He just pressed his lips together and didn't answer.
"Please sit down, make yourselves comfortable," the man in the suit said, making an inviting gesture toward the large sofa standing diagonally across from him. From its cushions, a rusty spring stuck out about halfway through the rotting cushions.
"Rather stand," Yuri replied, fixing his host with a steady gaze, but not taking his right hand from his hip to keep it close to the pistol.
"As you wish," the man said, grinning narrowly. "They'd rather stand, you hear?" he spoke softly to the octopus. Abigail cleared her throat nervously and Harry ran his hand through his hair in a thoughtful gesture.
"So, here we are. You wanted to tell us the details of your job in person...", Harry finally began to open the negotiation.
"Certainly," the man replied. "To be honest, I've never heard of your agency before. This is good, very good. Isn't it?" The rhetorical question was again directed at the pickled sea creature. Then he took another drag on his cigarette. Abigail could have sworn that one of the octopus's arms had just moved a tiny bit. It was probably just an optical illusion, but she couldn't be sure.
"Well, for this job, it is important that we hire unfamiliar faces. Let me get right to the point. I'm in an intermediary role myself for a company called CROWTECH. This is an industrial manufacturing robot development team. They have built a new prototype for the automotive industry using some expensive and advanced components. It represents a great leap forward in technological development. It is versatile and can be used for much more complex tasks than the normal assembly line robots, which usually consist of just one big arm and screw-on components. As you can imagine, it is also extremely expensive. Now for the real problem. Somehow a Japanese competitor here in town got wind of it - industrial espionage is nothing unusual, as I'm sure you know. The Japanese hired a group of runners and had the thing stolen. At least that much has been revealed by previous investigations, if you want to call them that. They were able to catch one of the runners during the break-in, and after some special, somewhat unpleasant treatment, he spit out the name *Taiyō Electrics*. By the way, you might want to prepare yourself for an extremely dangerous job. The runners killed several people during the break-in, and this company is not afraid to use maximum force. The name of the prototype is *Yanny*. CROWTECH probably thought it would be more entertaining to give it a real name instead of a serial number. A unisex name for this hunk of metal. However, this Yanny has a programming error and would have to be rebuilt by CROWTECH anyway. It has some loose screws, so to speak!" Then the man laughed out loud at his own joke. "You got it, loose screws on a robot!" he gargled at the octopus, slapping his thigh. Abigail looked at Harry and Yuri and tapped her temple with the index finger of her right hand, the other two nodded in response. After laughing, the man immediately became serious again and continued. "No wonder, if you ask me. New technology is always full of bugs and hard to master. Anyway, the job is to bring the prototype of Taiyō Electrics back to me. I don't care how you do it. I will then deliver it to CROWTECH."
"What's in it for us?" Harry asked, getting right to the point. The man leaned over and gently stroked the glass in which his grotesque pet was swimming.
"You are... an unknown little agency..." he began, and Harry could immediately guess where this statement was going. He was going to squeeze them on the price, and they didn't have much room for negotiation due to their current financial situation. In his mind he already started to calculate how much they could go down, how low they would have to sell themselves.
"...however, the prototype is worth quite a bit to CROWTECH. Therefore, I am authorized to offer you $35,000 for your services in the event of success. There will be $3,000 as an upfront payment .... and don't get any ideas about running away with the money. This kind of thing usually ends very messy for everyone involved," the man continued in a businesslike tone. The three had to control themselves to hide their astonishment and keep a straight face as best they could. The amount was far more than they had expected. For a group of rookies in this business, even $2,500 each would have been an acceptable reward.
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"All right, we agree," Harry replied after a moment's hesitation, trying not to look too needy. "I guess we'll just have to find out for ourselves where Taiyō Electrics has stashed the prototype?"
"That's right," the man nodded, taking another drag on his cigarette and blowing the smoke out of his mouth in a thin stream. Abigail then gestured to her comrades that she had high hopes of getting this information somehow.
"We almost on our way," Yuri said. "How we contact you?" The man pulled a small notepad and pen from his suit pocket and jotted down a phone number. Then he handed the note to Yuri.
"This is my cell phone number," he nodded. "Call me as soon as you get Yanny. We'll meet back here." The three confirmed and then slowly made their way out of the apartment. They would have to buy a cell phone as well, and with the down payment they should be able to do that now. These modern devices were now only about the size of a half toaster and the extendable antennas had shrunk to a comfortable length of about 30 cm. Perfect to have a real phone with you in the field.
"Well, I definitely want a gun too... how about a pistol? I'm sure there are lighter and smaller models, right? Surely you can advise me? We'll also need bulletproof vests, helmets, and uh.... Explosives? How about hand grenades? Plastic explosives? Smoke bombs? Lock picks? I want the whole package! And also..." Ever since they had left the apartment, Abigail had been talking excitedly and non-stop. Yuri and Harry weren't sure if it was because of the generous advance payment or the fact that they now had a concrete goal in mind in the form of a real job. At least she seemed a little more relaxed now. Her eyes lit up as she talked about her equipment plans and gestured wildly with her hands. Her monologue was abruptly interrupted when they reached the third floor. Behind one of the apartment doors, a woman began to scream in fear, there were several crashes, and then a man yelled. If they interpreted these sounds correctly, chairs or something similar were being thrown inside the apartment. It was clear that this woman was in distress. The three stopped and listened for a moment. There was another loud crash and the sound of splintering wood.
"Guys...we have to help her...we can't just keep walking like this and the police don't come to this neighborhood willingly...!" said Abigail excitedly, pointing to the door. "Quick, where's the doorbell?" Yuri looked at the door with an appraising glance. Then he took aim, took a swing, and kicked his right foot with full force right next to the lock. There was a deafening crash through the stairwell as the door was half torn from its moorings. Then he grabbed the doorknob with both hands, yanked it out with a jerk, and dropped it behind him. With his left hand, he pushed open the ruined remains and quickly entered the apartment.
"Ding-dong," he said with an expressionless face as he walked toward the room where the woman's screams had come from. Harry looked at Yuri's work of destruction in awe and then briefly at Abigail.
"Um... wow..." it came out in surprise. He knew their comrade had quite a bit of physical strength, but he hadn't expected this reaction. Then he nodded and followed Yuri. Abigail hurried after him as well. The burly giant made his way through all kinds of broken dishes. The fight must have been going on here for quite a while. A few seconds later, Yuri had reached the bedroom. The woman who had apparently screamed was lying on the ground. At first glance, it could be seen that she had already suffered some bruises and minor injuries. A man in torn clothes was standing in front of her, about to hit her with the half of a broken chair. When he heard Yuri, he turned to him and looked at him in surprise. But then he shouted, his face red with anger, "Hey, you asshole, what are you doing in my apartment?! Get out of here right now or I'll make mincemeat out of you!" Yuri didn't think about it at all and marched on towards the man, unimpressed. When the man lunged at the intruder with half of his chair, Yuri made a great leap into the man to shorten the distance to him so that he could not complete his swing. The giant grabbed the ruffian's hair with his left hand and began to smash his face with terrible blows. The first punch broke his nose, and only after the fourth did he let go of the chair. The woman on the floor stared at the scene in disbelief. Obviously, she hadn't expected anyone to come to her aid. Abigail and Harry had also reached the bedroom by now. The programmer immediately rushed to the woman and tried to help her up, while Harry took a few steps back and kept an eye on the apartment door from the hallway. He wanted to rule out the possibility of the man getting unexpected reinforcements. Yuri was unstoppable in his rage anyway. He grabbed the now motionless man, who had been knocked unconscious by his powerful blows, and threw him headfirst across the bedroom into a closed closet. The man crashed through the relatively massive door of the closet and was stuck inside up to his waist, his legs still sticking out. There was not the slightest chance that he could have survived the impact. Harry came back into the room when he was sure that no more of the man's associates would show up. He looked first at Yuri, who was wiping his bloody right hand on his pants, and then at the two legs sticking out of the cabinet.
"What...?" he began, pointing to the closet.
"Man looking for suit for own funeral," Yuri explained curtly, shrugging and trudging out into the hallway to find the bathroom. Harry nodded and then walked over to Abigail, who had by now helped the woman to her feet. She was still in shock, but seemed visibly relieved. A brief conversation revealed that the man was her new boyfriend, but he had quickly turned out to be choleric and violent. Had the three not reacted so quickly, it would have ended badly for her.
"Thank you very much. My name is Karen, by the way..." the woman revealed ruefully. "Unfortunately, I don't have anything of value to give you as a reward for your help. I am so sorry. You saved my life and I don't even have any money to show my appreciation..." she sniffled. Yuri returned from the bathroom with washed hands.
"Smell good in kitchen," he declared.
"Oh... that? Yes, I was actually cooking. There's a pot of tomato soup on the stove.... Um, would you like some, perhaps?" Karen replied quietly, still being attended to in a makeshift fashion by Abigail.
"Yes," Yuri replied. "Fighting makes you hungry."
"You too, perhaps?" Karen asked Abigail and Harry, who gladly accepted the invitation. A short time later, they were all sitting together in the kitchen, finishing the tomato soup and talking a bit. This little bit of normalcy gradually brought the woman out of her terrible shock and she began to recover.
"Yuri will get this guy out of here in a minute and I'll hang up one of the other doors for you," Harry said as he scraped the last of the soup out of the bowl.
"That's really sweet of you, thank you again," the woman replied. "But... um... who... who are you anyway?" The three looked at each other for a moment, then Abigail smiled at the woman. "We are TRAP, the agency for special cases. Feel free to recommend us."
"You can find us in yellow pages," Yuri nodded and wiped his mouth. Then he got up and stomped into the bedroom to get the body.
"What now, is this the guy who was supposed to give you the job?" Ralph asked in surprise as he looked out the window and saw Yuri marching toward the agency car with the body slung over his right shoulder.
"No, other man. There was incident," he casually explained to Ralph.
"Well, I'll be damned..." Ralph grinned and shook his head. "Where to now with this guy? Hmm... Ah, look, there's a dumpster over there." He pointed across the street and got out of the car.
"Good," Yuri nodded and walked straight to the dumpster. Fortunately there were no cars coming at the moment and the few people passing by didn't seem to take much notice of the scene. This kind of thing probably happened a lot around here. When the Russian reached the dumpster, he opened the lid with his left hand, lifted the man's body inside, and walked back to the car.
"Very environmentally conscious," Abigail said from the back after observing the action. She and Harry were standing in the doorway of the house, now joining the others.
"Well, I don't know. In prison we had our own bins for organic waste," Ralph remarked, then laughed bleatingly. "Where to now?"
"Back to headquarters for now," Abigail said with a smile. "Need to do some research before we can proceed. And of course we need to buy some equipment. We'll explain everything in detail on the way home."
"Oho, so *headquarters* is the name of the place now," Ralph grinned broadly. Then he opened a car door for Abigail and bowed. "Get in, madam, we'll be right there."