The flames have come and gone thanks to the efforts of a few human and robot firefighters. Allowing for Ally and a crew of officers to all investigate the building. The site was once a home to relics of a bygone era. All but dust. Ally, fully suited, checks around the ash covered fireplace. Noticing both the cross and a fallen picture frame upside down. She picks it up and sees the image of what looks to be a group portrait . One of a young and shorter Rosaria and her mother with darker hair next to a man in an army uniform.
“ Who do you think the man in the picture is?” Celi asked though the call.
“ I don’t know." Ally answers. "But the picture seems to have taken place around the front of the home. Question is who took the photo?” Ally looked at the top of the dust covered fireplace. “The jar oddly seems to be in place.” She walked over towards it. “The text seems faded.” She sweeps the jar covered by ash. “I can’t read the text.”
“Let me have a look.” Celi said. “The translation reads, " Rest, Our Dear beloved, Antonio Sanchez "” .
Ally looks at the picture one last time before laying it down. she walks past officers in armor scanning over the burned living room area. Guiding herself towards a small hallway. “This must be Rosaria’s room.” Ally said. “Posters of sunflowers hang over a small dark red bed.” She walks over to the senior mother’s bedroom. “ Compared to the size of this bed it seems like more than one person can fit on it.”
“Or it could be personal preference.” Celi points out. “Some people tend to favor having enough space to be as comfortable as they can.” .
“That's a good point.” Ally nods. “ But the photo seems to date back to them living here for quite some time. If there were to be a son of some kind. A home with a third bedroom would be better suited. But that's just my theory.”
“Hey, Miller!” Steve shouts. “May want to see this.” She walks over the location Steve is waving at. “Shattered glass and a burned cloth.”
“A Molotov!” James shouts. “Saw quite a few of these shattered around old warzones during my time in force. That woman who did this really wanted no one walking out .” .
“They’re blessed that Eden industry’s fire alarm system still works.” Steve pointed to the system on the wall on the right just near the kitchen entrance. “Guess, I'll go get my bags from the coat and scoop this up.”
“Conner and I will get you pictures of that and the rest of the area.” Ally said.
The time is three in the morning and Steve is riding out in his cop car towards the apartment.
“I’ll keep the glass you give me carefully placed in my office." Ricky said though Steve's lens call. "Once the suspect is out of the hospital for any possible injuries, she’ll be brought here for questioning.”
“One hell of a morning this turned out to be, eh?” Steve says so tiredly one can mistake him sleeping on the wheel.
“Yeah, make sure to rest well.” Ricky ordered. “One more thing, Don’t feel too bad about the home. You and those agents did the best you could do to protect. We’re going to catch those bastards. ok?”
“Sure, will.” He responded as he turned right off the freeway.
Ten minutes later, Steve parks his Camaro on the side of a building. He gets out of his car and makes it towards the door.
A man wearing a eyepatch and gray T-shirt and pants standing over the counter greets “Nice to see Ya, Steve.” .
“There have been better days for me, Oliver.” Steve responded as he walked towards the stairs.
“Seen the news, it's a blessing you’re alive from the station at all.” Oliver responds .
“ Yeah, I guess.” Steve thought to himself as he climbed the stairs.
Two minutes later, he arrived at a door with the number twenty-six with a fingerprint reader. He places his on it.
“Home sweet home.” the reader says.
His room was a small chamber. A bed near a window with a small kitchen near the door. He shuts it from behind him and opens the fridge.
“Damn, already low on food.” He thought. “At least I got some leftover chicken soup and a few beers.”
He takes out the large pot and puts some of the soup in a small glass bowl on the stove.
“Wish Fred would do something with this old kitchen setup." He complains. "Microwave ain’t working. But that ain't happening.” .
He twists the knob on the oven for a few attempts.
“Finally after a million years!” . He says as he proceeds to take the bowl off with a paper towel and then grabs a fork from a cramped dish rack.
He sits at the table near the window and eats.
An hour passes by and he is stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers and a white undershirt lying on his gray themed bed cover.
“Come on, I need to win!” He thought to himself as he was browsing with the cyberlens. “ Bet burning away my credits to some scammer makes more sense than these coded casinos. Screw this website.” He exits out of the web. Having a clear vision of the emptiness of the room.
“ Maybe I should call Ms. Millar. Tell her what's happening.” Steve thought into himself as he lays in silence for a second. “ If I was to tell her that maybe this lawsuit might as well be called off. Getting those bots out there would be beneficial for counteracting the terror I just witnessed.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He reaches for the open beer can and tries to drink any that's left from it.
“Like my promises. Nothing.” He throws the can across the room. Before the thought of slumber, Steve decades to look at his Lens interface again.
“What was that number Nick gave me?” He thought. Steve waddles up from his bed and makes his way over to his small closet from across. “Must be in the coat. Fucking stupid of me.” He feels for the right of the coat and takes out the card as he sits down on the side of the bed. Cautiously observing the numbers on the card as he brings up his lens's interface and starts typing out the number. There is silence.
“H-hello?” A confused but gentle voice answers.
“Nick, it's me, Steve Mitchel." The detective said.
“Ah, the one who helped put an end to my father’s case.” The young man responds surprisingly cheerful.
“ I’m shocked you're rather available at this time.” Steve curiously says.
“I tend to use my personal number as a way to schedule appointments.” Nick says. “ But because it's you that's calling. I won’t mind bending this self made proposal .”
“ Rather kind of you!” Steve expresses.
“ This is my life’s work after all.” Nick responds with total enthusiasm.
Steve pondered on what to say. “How do I stop grieving ?” Steve finally spoke.
“Care to explain, explain?” Nick askes.
Steve lets out a small sigh before he speaks. “Felt like the world around me has sped up. As if I’m losing track of what my purpose is. Ever since the Eden incident, the public and even myself at times feels like I’m in no place to save anybody.”
“ I understand greatly, Mr. Mitchel.” Nick said with mild confidence. “You're placing unrealistic expectations. Creating this illusion that is eating away at your mental health.”
“Hm?” Steve was confused by the statement.
“To put it simply, officer, You can’t save everybody.”
“But I DO!” The detective angrily responded with raw intentions. “My folks were both Military, My mother a sailor, my dad a marine. I wanted nothing to do with either of them at the time because I was a bit of a rebel teenage punk. Thinking They never cared about me. Then, like some twisted fate. I ended up getting two officers showing flags with news that changed my outlook eternally.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.” Nick expressed rather sadly.
“It's fine, man.” Steve responds in a more optimistic tone. “My folks set up a failsafe with their bank systems. So in any case they died during the last world war. I would get both of their amounts. Of choice I had to get through the last of my high school years and work my way up the rankings of being an officer.” .
“Choosing to be an officer to cope with the loss of your parents.” Nick responds. “I think we’ll have to cut this short. I have another call that's getting by but Thank you for being open. Hopefully, you take in mind what I said. It's an honorable thing you’re doing for the city, but remember to reason your expectation towards reality. Goodbye, Mr. Mitchel.”
“Fuck, man.” Steve facepalms himself. He opens up his interface again and looks at the chain of numbers before him. “Called her son. Maybe I should check in on Mrs.Tyler. ” He stares at her number. “Maybe tomorrow.” He gets up and walks over to his small kitchen fridge. Giving another can of beer before pasting out in a drunken state. drifting off to sleep.
The GBOP truck is parked out near an empty shopping mart. Nearly all of the crew are in their pods at the inside back of the truck.
“A white mask man and a tall one wearing a black ski mask. Who are you two?” Ally thought while laying in her gray pod suit inside her open pod chamber with her lustrous hair.
“Ally?!” She heard a young female voice and exited out of the memory clip recording.
She sees brown lit eyes. “Celi, what are you doing up?” Ally asked .
“I wanted to check in to see if that Hallow Website updated anything new.” Celi informs , laying down in her pod suit with her long hair loose .
Ally continued “For the past few hours, nothing so far. I’ve noticed while being on that site how the suspect has been posting rather frequently prior to the police assault.” .
“You think we both may be coming to a similar conclusion?” Celi asked. “That whoever is running on that site. Might be catching on with people finding out who runs it.” .
“ I rewatched that memory link clip several more times.” Ally said. “It seems like the assault was far more planned out.” .
“ You should sleep, Ally.” Celi suggested as she yawned. “ You had a rough day dealing with several unusual attacks. Give your mind a break.” .
“ Sadly, crime doesn't.” Ally responded. “ Been cracking down on this group for days. the amount of growth this suspect has experienced all under our noses.” .
“You truly don’t know how to quit can you.” Celi smuggly said.
“ Leading night patrols will do that for you.” Ally smiled.
“If that's the case. Let me take over then.” Celi suggested. “ I'll look around for at least one night. And you can look around the next one. We can cycle for a night for a day's worth of rest.” .
“That's insane!” Ally's eyes widened as. “ Now, you’ll be the one to not get sleep.” .
“Well, what's your idea?” Celi asked.
Ally pondered for a moment. Closing her light gray lit eyes. “ We can do a three hour share. watch for any website changes. We can do this until the suspect is caught.” .
Celi thought about it for a second. Laying back even farther on her pod until an answer was finally thought. "You know. That doesn't sound bad at all. I would subject one thing though.” .
“What is it?” Ally asked.
“Knowing you chicka.” Celi yawns. “ You tend to push yourself alot. So maybe you can be the first one to do at least three and I can take over. How's that.” .
“Aww, you know me too well.” Ally laughs quietly. “ You sure you can handle that little time frame?” .
“Seems like you don't know me as much.” Celi said rather mildly. “ Before I turned myself in. All night bank robberies were how I burned the midnight oil. Helping out gangs in southern california with cutting off wires without alerting security. Earned a lot of money but got it for the wrong reasons. Even worse when the crew started to fight one another. Doesn’t help the police caught on with the constant bank break ins. so started to plant cops near the bank locations.” .
Ally looked sadly at Celi and asked. “What happened to them?” .
Celi pondered. “ Some wanted the money so bad. They took the risk with the cops and ran away with the credits installed on their lens software. Others like me gave into the force. Hoping to be safe from getting killed.” .
“Yet, here you are.” Ally noted. “ Survived all of that with such intelligence. Jack must have seen that good inside of you. ” .
Celi slightly smiles. “Guess he must have. Now, because it's two and I've slept since twelve. It's only fair that I get one more hour of sleep.” .
“I can deal with that!” Ally answered happily. “Thanks, Celi.”.
Celi pushes a button from the inside that closes her pod door down shut.
Ally goes back to her cyberlens. Scouting the web for any clue to pick up.