Mr. Chips could see many of Masters’ gadgets on shelves nearby. He activated his sensors. [Scanning] Analysis reveals items too large to carry. Solution – bring Master here. Mr. Chips wirelessly downloaded a blueprint of the Police station from county records – as an AI he was capable of incredible feats of computer hacking – and plotted his route. A few moments later, he jumped off the shelf, and walked towards the lock-up door. Mr. Chips configured for battle – and a few moments later, his cutting laser cut a hole large enough for him and Master to walk through.
Find Master! Rescue Master! “Yip! Yip!” Barked Mr. Chips. He started heading towards the upstairs, where “Holding” was. If those Policemen didn’t let Master go, Mr. Chips was going to have to get… rough.
* * *
Justin Pierce – aka Hazard Man – had the entire holding cell to himself, for which he was glad. He had woke about an hour ago, to learn his ignomious fate – captured by Virus and a couple of police officers. Gah! Still, he thought. It wasn’t the end – it was a setback. If Virus wants to try and stop me from taking down Bolivar Trask, then I guess I’ll have to deal with her too… and probably first. He pinched his nose with his right hand, wincing in pain at the headache he still possessed. She shocked me – I’ll have to take more precautions. Insulated shoes and suit at the very least. Mr. Chips! He thought. If she hurt you, I’ll kill her! No one is going to take you away from me, ever!
He sighed. I guess I need to escape now, right? He began examining the cell he was in as surreptitiously as he could – he didn’t want some trigger happy neanderthal with a badge shooting him to avoid some paperwork on his arrest. A cop or two eyed him suspiciously, but for the most part ignored him. Good.
The cell won’t be hard to escape, he thought. I could pick the lock, I could change the door latch to something else… but I’d get shot. What I need is a distraction… and here comes one, right in the nick of time… Looking over at the stairs to the basement, Hazard Man saw Mr. Chips walk up the stairs to the main room of the police precinct. Perfect.
He could tell Mr. Chips was reconfiguring. He knew what was about to happen. “Hey, you!” he called to one of the cops nearby. “Let me out, or a lot of people are going to die, starting with you.”
“Screw you, asshole. You ain’t going anywhere.” The cop said. “Now shut the hell up or I’ll come in there and you’ll be found trying to escape, you know what I mean? What do you have to say to that, dumbass?”
Hazard Man smiled. “Say hello to my little friend!” he said, pointing at Mr. Chips – who was now configured into battle armor, and armed with a grenade launcher and machinegun from his mouth-turret.
“Yip! Yip!” Mr. Chips barked. That always was Master’s favorite movie! Mr. Chips unleashed hell… Grenade after grenade fired across the room – and in seconds, the room was filled with explosions, fiery debris, and either dead or scattered cops. Mr. Chips was out of grenades, but it didn’t matter. He was more than capable of finishing the job. He walked over to one of the dead officers, and fetched the keys to the Holding cell – neither of which were harmed in the blasts.
“Bring them over here, buddy!” Hazard Man called. “Good boy!”
“Yip! Yip!” Barked Mr. Chips.
“Yeah, I know she took us down. That’s okay, pal – we’re going to go get her, and Trask too.” Justin took the keys from Mr. Chips an unlocked his cage door. “My stuff is in the lockup isn’t it?”
“Yip! Yip!” Mr. Chips replied.
“Good! Then we should go get it shouldn’t we?” Hazard man’s reply was cut short by the sounds of gunfire – Mr. Chips had seen a police officer try to reach for a gun, and shot him. Now he wasn’t reaching for anything – he was screaming in pain, and probably bleeding out.
Hazard man stepped over the LCD’s and headed downstairs to collect his gear. They had work to do.
* * *
Colby and Allan checked into the Hyatt hotel downtown. The Hyatt was an older building – one of the relics of the fifties and sixties that hadn’t seem to age with the rest of Empire City. Colby was surprised it was still in business – it looked cheap, but Allan had said the rooms were acceptable. It was affordable, at least, she thought. Though I suppose money isn’t really an issue. I would just feel like I was being ripped off if I paid any more than what they asked. They had taken two rooms with adjoining doors between them, which would help when they needed to plan.
“Have you eaten, Detective Taylor?” Colby asked as she left the elevator and headed towards her room.
“Please, call me Allan. No, not really. I could eat.”
“Do you think this place has room service?” she asked.
“We could try.” Allan responded. “I mean, if it gives us food poisoning, you can cure us, right?”
Colby laughed. “I guess so. Why don’t you order something, while we unpack and get it sent up. Charge it to the room – I’ve got it.”
“Sure.” Allan nodded. “Do you always keep a prepaid VISA around for when you have to go on the run?”
“You mean you don’t?” Colby winked, and went into her room, and opened the adjoining door. The room itself was large enough for a bathroom, a queen sized bed, some furniture like a dresser and two night tables, and a table and chairs. A Television was nearby, where it could easily be watched from bed. It was nice, Colby thought, but the décor was dated. It didn’t look like it had been changed in at least thirty years. Huh, she thought. At least it has wifi. It wasn’t bad wifi, either – she could see the strength of the signal moving through the air like an arrow.
“How’s your room, Allan?”
“Good enough.” He said. “Yours?”
“The same.”
They paused a few moments, and Colby smiled. “Where do we start?”
“About the cops? If you can give me a new face, then leave that to me. Otherwise, I’m calling for some food.”
Colby nodded, and waited till Allan ordered some food – a pair of hamburgers, some fries, and a salad with a few beers. If she hadn’t eaten earlier, she might have joined him. “Is there someone you need to look like to get the information you need?”
“Yeah… well, maybe three people, actually. The first is Lieutenant Donald Sinclair – word has it he’s Trask’s man, bought and paid for. If I look like him, I could talk to everyone and see if they’re in Trasks pocket or not. All I’d need would be a few hours looking like him. I might find what I need searching his office, too.” He sighed. “The second and third worry me a bit… Captain Shelly Forsythe and District Attorney Jim Lincoln. If we have them – if they’re straight shooters – then we’re good – as soon as we get the data we can move forward with a case. If they’re dirty, we’ll have to go out of state.”
“What if one’s dirty and one isn’t?” Colby wondered.
“Let’s worry about that if it comes to it, okay?” Allan countered. “I’m not particularly eager to wear Sinclair’s slimeball skin for a day, so let’s see how that goes first, okay? We might need to work out a different plan.”
“I’d better come with you then, in case you need a quick disguise or getaway.”
“No way – you’d be noticed in like… you’d be shapechanged to look like a cop, wouldn’t you?” He sighed in defeat. “Maybe you could pull it off. It would be easier if I had backup. Okay – we’ll do it together.”
“I need pictures of what they look like.”
“No problem. They’re on the web.” Allan replied. A knock sounded on the door to his room. “Pardon me – it sounds like my dinner.” He went over, and a waiter came in with a tray of food. Allan flipped him a ten-spot as a tip, and took the food to his table to eat.
“You need a minute to eat?” Colby asked.
“Yeah. Would you mind?”
“Nah – go ahead.” Colby spent a few minutes downloading the pictures and personnel files on the three individuals Allan had told her about. All three jackets looked spotless – but that was the point, wasn’t it? Hrmmm… She examined all three files, but didn’t find evidence of tampering. So they look spotless on the computer – I guess Allan will have to see if that’s true or not.
Meanwhile, Allan had started eating… He must have been hungry – in the time it took her to review the files, he’d polished off a burger, half the fries, one of the beers, and was working on the last burger.
“You must have been hungry!”
“Yeah.” He said, smiling. “Nearly getting killed kinda does that. Don’t you get hungry after taking down a super-villain?”
“Um… not really. I usually get the shakes and have a coffee to calm the hell down. I’m still new at this – fighting for my life isn’t old hat yet.”
Allan smiled. “It wasn’t for Tesseract, either. It took her quite a while to get used to it. She’s worked with the police before, and so has her partner Fathom.”
“Not that I mind it being a solo party, but any ideas on why they aren’t around?” Colby asked.
“I dunno, Vi.” He began. “Some people think Fathom spends some time in Atlantis, and others say that he and Tesseract sometimes go dimension hopping. They’ve also gone out of state in the past too. Could be anyone’s guess. I heard they had a pet velociraptor from the Savage Land for a while. They called it “Rippy” – but they had to get rid of it. It couldn’t be trained.”
“How do you know all this?” Colby asked, smirking. He must be pulling my leg. He must.
“I listen. I observe. A lot of heroes don’t have anyone to talk to – there aren’t a lot of heroes in Empire city – so sometimes they talk to cops and make friends. One of my pals is a friend of theirs. Names Patrick O’Keefe. He’s a good man – and he vouches for them, so that’s good enough for me.”
Wow. How weird. She thought. And now Detective Allan Taylor is becoming my what? My sidekick? That can’t be the right term. How about friend? Friend sounds better. “Well, I think we’ve started down that road, at least a bit, huh?”
“True.” Allan replied, smiling. “Let’s see how this goes. If our plan doesn’t work I may not have much future in this city. Hell, I might not have a future at all.”
“We’ll be fine.” Colby replied, firmly. “We’ll be fine.”
Allan popped the last of the burger into his mouth and chewed. “I hope so, Vi. I hope so.”
“So the plan is assume the ID of Sinclair, go search his office and ask around, and hopefully find out what we need?”
“Yeah – pretty much. We can get more inventive if we need to. What did you have in mind with Trask? How are we going to get him?”
“Well, it’s a bit illegal, but I was thinking of hacking his computers, and then using that data to decide where we should investigate in person. It’s a lot less risky than busting into his office and searching his records.” Colby looked a bit unsure. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Allan thought about it. “Normally, I might – but it’s not like anyone is getting hurt. Trask needs to be brought down or we’re both dead. And you’re right – it is less risky than busting into his records in person. If you don’t find enough, we’re going to have to do some investigation in person, though. You can’t totally avoid footwork.”
“I know, Allan – I just want to minimize our exposure. The more we’re out there, the more chances he for his people to find us.”
Allan agreed. “Okay then. We’re going to have an early morning – like 4:30am. We’d better get some sleep.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Good idea, Allan. I think I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s been a hell of a day.”
Allan smiled back. “Tell me about it. See you in the morning.”
Colby closed the door between their rooms, and got ready for bed, mulling over what they would have to do the next day. It was dangerous, but needed – and to be honest, it was a lot more dangerous for Allan than it was for her. At least she healed when she got shot – he wouldn’t.
This is definitely NOT how I expected my evening to go, she thought as she dug through her bag for a nightgown. I was hoping to spend it with Dar, but I guess we’ll have to hold out for a raincheck. This sucks.
Colby lay down on the bed, and couldn’t get over the feeling of how lonely it felt. How alone she felt. “I miss you, Dar.” She whispered to herself, then turned and set an alarm, turned off the light, and went to bed.
* * *
Morning came early. Colby turned off the alarm, and climbed out of bed, rubbing her eyes. It took her a few moments to realize she wasn’t in Darryl’s apartment. Oh, yeah. Crap. I guess I’d better get cleaned up.
Colby hopped into the shower, and turned on the water, starting at the spray of cold before it began to warm up. Why do I always do that? She wondered. She couldn’t help but notice the shock of the cold spray made her nipples stand up straight and tall. Geez… I’d better be careful. They could cut glass like that, she joked to herself. She began washing and soaping up, cleaning the grit and sweat off of herself. Colby was careful around the sensitive spots – she’d only been female for less than a week, and the urge to explore a little was still there. I need a place of my own, she thought. A place I can discover who I am, what I want. No hotels. No couches. My place. I’ll work on that when this is done.
She soaped up and rinsed her long hair – it took longer than she expected, and Colby suspected it would take equally long to dry as well. At least I have a hair dryer. She finished rinsing, and turned off the water, letting the warm water sluice off of her curves into the tub. She couldn’t help but be amazed at what she’d done to herself. I’m finally me, she thought. It was a nice feeling, not having to hate your body anymore. It felt good.
Colby hopped out of the shower and dried off, trying to dry her hair with the hair dryer she brought with her. It worked to a point – but it didn’t have the strength or the oomph to get the job done well. I’m going to need a stronger, fancier model I think. Oh well. I suppose it’s worth it – Dar seems to like my hair. If Colby was being honest with herself, she liked it too – she thought it made her look sexy.
She looked at herself in the mirror. “Not bad, Colby.” She said. “Maybe we’ll learn makeup in a few days?” She headed out to the hotel room to get dressed. Today felt like a jeans and t-shirt day, so she grabbed a pair of her comfy jeans that let her move – as opposed to her skinny jeans, which looked like they were poured on, and a Borderlands T-Shirt – the one with the Claptrap robot on the front. Sure, it’s nerdy, she thought. But I’m not ashamed of liking nerd things. She threw on a moderate jacket and grabbed some gloves and a hat – and a scarf. It’s crazy how cold I’ve been since I changed genders, Colby thought. At first I thought it was odd, but more and more I think it’s just part of being female. Weird. I wonder what else I’ll notice?
She sat and grabbed her phone, and texted Dar. ‘Love you, Dar… Miss you. I’ll come home soon.’ She hit send, and the phone chimed. A few seconds later it chimed with a return text.
‘You better. I’ll be waiting. Love you too.”
Colby sighed, and wrapped herself in a hug. It feels weird not being with him. That should be weird by itself. I miss him. She moped a bit, then steeled herself. There isn’t any point in whining, she thought. I chose to do this – so the sooner we start, the sooner I get back to my life.
Just as she was about to get up and knock on Allan’s door, she heard a return knock from his room. Answering it, she found Detective Taylor there, dressed and looking rather disturbed. “Morning, Vi. Have you seen the news?”
“Uh… no? Did something happen?”
“You might say that. Last night around 3am, Hazard Man and Mr. Chips escaped from the police station where they were being held, and killed 12 cops in the process, injuring about 20 more. Dr. Pierce is wanted for multiple counts of murder.”
“How?” She asked. “How did he escape? I shut down Mr. Chips!”
“I don’t know. He must have found a way to turn him back on. Now he’s killed a ton of people. It’s not your fault, Vi – you couldn’t know he or the dog would do that.”
Colby didn’t think she agreed with Detective Taylor on that point. Those deaths are on me, she thought. I could have wrecked Mr. Chips – torn him to pieces. Instead, I got sloppy and people died. Damn! “We have to stop them.”
“I know we do – but we have to stop Trask too. I need your help on this, and until Hazard Man shows up again, we don’t have that many places we can look for him. He’d be an idiot if he went back to his warehouse now, and I don’t think he is an idiot.”
“Me either, unfortunately. Fine, let’s deal with Lieutenant Sinclair today. How do you want to handle it?”
Allan thought a bit. “I figure if you can go inside, see if Sinclair is there, let me know… if he isn’t, I come in looking like him, and search his office. You do your best to run interference and distraction, and warn me if he shows up. I leave, and you turn me back – then we go over the info I found, if any.”
“Sounds good to me.” Colby replied. “I’m going to change you now then.”
“Whoa! Does it hurt?” He asked.
“It tingles. And no, it doesn’t wear off – ever. If I don’t change you back, you’re stuck as Sinclair.”
“Peachy. Do me a favor, Vi, and don’t die, okay? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as a scumbag.”
“No problem, Allan. I was going to ask you to not die either. I’m starting to like you and training a new cop to listen to my problems would take a long time.” She grinned at the last comment, turning it into a joke. Allan smiled back.
“I won’t if you don’t.” He looked in a mirror and straightened his tie. “Do I have to do anything?” he asked.
“Nope. Just stand still.” Colby touched him, and began to change him. It was different than with Hank, the homeless man she had helped. She was just making him more himself. This time, she was taking Allan, and making him into someone completely different. It was tricky, but doable. After a few moments, Detective Taylor looked and sounded exactly like Lieutenant Donald Sinclair. “That’s it, detective. You’re done.”
Allan went over to a mirror, and stared at his newly changed self. “This is crazy, you know. I’ve heard of shapeshifters before, but I’ve never heard of anyone being able to change other people. This is amazing.”
“Yeah. Dangerous too.” Colby replied.
“You bet it is. Damn. You do good work, Vi.”
“Thanks. You want to get going? I know a decent waffle place on the way. The sooner we’re done the sooner you get back to your handsome self.”
“You’re on.” Heh heh, he thought. She thinks I’m handsome. Maybe there’s hope for a schlub like me after all?
* * *
Colby entered the police station, carrying a carafe of coffee and a large carton of donuts. Looking around, she approached the front desk sergeant. “I have a delivery for Lieutenant Sinclair… Courtesy of a secret admirer. I need someone to sign for it.”
The sergeant looked up, smirking and staring at Colby’s chest. “Do you come with it?”
Wha…? Asshole! She thought. “Nope!” She said, cheerily. “Just the donuts and coffee.”
The sergeant took a look at the precinct, and at his files. “He isn’t in yet. He worked late last night. I’ll sign for the stuff – just leave it on the table over there.” The sergeant pointed at a large empty office table against the wall. It looked like it had been hastily cleaned off.
“Sure, no problem.” She replied, carrying the goodies over to the table and setting them down. “You got a washroom I can borrow?” She asked the sergeant. He just silently pointed to a sign across the room with the ubiquitous blue square and the white stick people. “Thanks!” She sauntered off to the washroom, trying to not feel every eye in the room watching her. Is this how being pretty feels all the time, she wondered. I feel like a prize turkey at a hunger strike. Geez. She got into the washroom, and entered a stall, sat, and took out her phone.
“Hey.” She texted. “Sinclair isn’t supposed to be in until later. You’re home free.”
“Good. Going in.” Allan replied.
Now, I just hope he finds out what he needs to find, or it’s going to get tricky for the next part, she thought.
Meanwhile, Allan, in the guise of Lieutenant Sinclair, walked into the precinct. “Morning, Terry.” He said to the desk sergeant, and paused when Terry looked up and greeted him.
“Hey! Morning to you, Lieutenant. I didn’t expect you till later… you working late or up too damn early?”
“A little of both, I think.” Allan smirked.
“Well, some cute little blonde number came in and dropped off some food for you and the rest of us. ‘From a secret admirer’ no less. Anything you need to share with your wife?”
“God, I hope not! Susan would kill me!” Allan smirked. “Thank’s Terry.” Allan walked over and grabbed a coffee and some doughnuts, and headed towards Lieutenant Sinclair’s office. Just in case it was locked, he had a few lockpicks in his pocket. He got there, and of course, it was locked. He put the coffee and doughnuts on the floor, and made quick work of the lock, then went inside, and closed the door – shutting the blinds as well. Let them think I’m calling my mistress, he thought. Maybe it’ll make its way back to his wife Susan. It would look good on him.
He looked around Donald Sinclair’s office. It was pretty standard – desk, chair, filing cabinets, computer, phone, hell – he even had a picture of his wife, Susan! There was a plastic potted plant in the corner, giving the room the look of some greenery, which was spoiled by all the dust built up on the plant’s leaves. He started searching through the desk, looking for anything out of place. Nothing registered at first – the drawers just had common supplies, papers and so on. He moved to the filing cabinets, and explored them… and started worrying about the time. It had been almost 10 minutes so far, and Allan was sweating buckets, worried he’d be caught and exposed any second. Nothing there either. Dammit!
If he’s got something here, it’s hidden. He wouldn’t put it on the computer – he’s not an idiot. He knows they’re subject to scan and review by DIA. No, it would be hidden… He looked around the room once more. Where is it? He’s got to have kept records of his contact with Trask… He’s in too deep not to.
He pulled out the drawers on the desk, and looked inside the desk – to find nothing… but the back of each drawer had two numbers on it! Hey! This is something… He wrote the numbers down on his pad – 93, 11, 27. Sounds like a combination or a date or password, maybe. Now all I need is the file to go with it. He put the drawers back, and wondered what the numbers meant.
His phone bleeped. He took a glance – it was Vi, wondering what was taking so long. He didn’t answer – answering would have taken even longer. Allan was about to keep looking, when he heard a preemptory knock on the door, and saw the door swing open to reveal Captain Shelly Forsythe. Shelly looked pissed.
“Sinclair. I want a word with you. My office, now!” She turned and left, obviously expecting him to follow.
This is interesting, he thought. The boss is mad with Donny boy? Maybe I should look into it? He replied and headed out to follow her.
When he got to Shelly’s office, she was behind her desk, in ‘authoritarian mode’ – the mode she often tried when she wanted to intimidate an officer who had screwed up. For her to be pulling this with Sinclair meant she was pissed beyond belief. Idly, he wondered what Sinclair did to warrant it. He was usually a kiss-ass.
“Sit down, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Is something wrong?” Allan asked.
“Don’t play stupid with me, Donald. I know damn well you had Allan Taylor killed last night. I just wanted you to know that I’m not playing your stupid games. We’re the police… we don’t work for Bolivar Trask. You’re under suspension. I want your gun and your badge, now!”
“What the hell are you talking about, Chief?” Allan asked, surprised as hell. He had me killed? The fucker!
“I mean as far as I’m concerned, you’re a murderer – and when I build a case against you, you’ll be lucky if you end on death row. Allan Taylor was one of our best, you murdering asshole!”
Shit! I’d better play it like Sinclair would, or she might realize it’s not him. “If you had a case I’d be arrested already. You don’t. You’re fishing, and you’re making a mistake.”
“The only mistake I’m making is not putting a bullet in you right now, Sinclair. Your gun and your badge, now!”
Allan nodded, and gave her his gun and his badge. It wouldn’t be hard to get another gun if needed, and another badge was as easy as asking Vi to pass the salt. “Here. I hope you choke on them.” He slapped them down on her desk, and walked out. I’d better hurry – or she’ll kick me out of the building while she’s at it… At least I learned something – she’s not on Trasks’ side!
Allan hurried back to Sinclair’s office, and realized he didn’t have much time. There were only a few places he hadn’t looked… Taking a chance, he looked under the plastic potted plant – and smiled when he saw an envelope taped to the bottom of the pot. It was lumpy – like something was inside it. Bingo! He thought. If he has secret files, these are probably it. He slipped the envelope into his pocket, and got ready to leave the office. I can’t wait to get out of his skin, Allan thought.
Stepping into the hall, he walked back to the precinct floor, and headed out – and nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw Virus, looking like a normal civilian carrying some sort of survey clipboard, trying to occupy the real Donald Sinclair’s time. She’s stalling him! Fuck!
Allan turned up the collar on his jacket, and pulled his hat further down on his face, and turned away from the real Lieutenant Sinclair. I just pray he doesn’t see me… Shit! He walked a block, and turned into a coffee shop – a different one from the one where Vi bought the doughnuts. A few minutes later, she walked in, looking just as stressed as he was.
“Thank god!” he swore. “You okay?” Allan couldn’t believe how stressful his impersonation had been – he felt like he’d run a mile and was out of breath.
“Yeah – but I think Lieutenant Sinclair is going to realize he’s been had pretty quickly. Did you find anything?”
“Yeah – an envelope with something in it. Let’s head back to the hotel, so I can get back to myself, okay?”
“You got it.” Colby replied, getting up. “I’m grabbing some doughnuts before we go – you got to keep them all for yourself.” She said, joking.
“Maybe.” Allan replied. “But I think the envelope will be worth it. I’ve suspected Sinclair of at least a dozen murders – not including mine. Maybe now we can pin a few of them on him – and finger Trask as the employer.”
“I guess time will tell. Let’s go.” Colby bundled up her bakers’ dozen, and they left to investigate the envelope and its contents.
Thirty minutes later, they were in Allan’s hotel room.
“You want out of that skin?” Colby asked.
“Hell, yes!” Allan replied, eager to be out of the skin of the man who contracted his death. “I hope we’ve got enough to get him, and Trask too.”
“Me too. Let’s see what’s in the envelope.”
Allan tore the envelope open, to reveal a thumb drive – a fairly big one – 32mb. “Hey hey! Donny must have a lot of secrets to need this. Let’s take a look.” Allan borrowed Colby’s laptop and plugged in the drive. “It asked for a password.” He said to Vi. “It’s probably using these numbers – 93, 11, 27.” Allan tried putting them in, in order, and the computer drive unlocked. File after file appeared on the screen. It was going to take hours – or even days – to go through all of this… But even a cursory glance showed that Lieutenant Sinclair was receiving at least 500,000$ a year from Bolivar Trask ‘for services rendered.’
That’s a lot of fucking service, Allan thought.
“Did we get him?” Colby asked.
“Yeah, I think so.” Allan replied. “We got Sinclair. Now we have to deal with Trask.”
“I can take care of that.” Colby answered. “I’ll be out for a few hours.”
“I need a new badge, and a new gun. Apparently the Chief suspended Sinclair – for suspicion of my murder.”
Colby nodded. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll be back by dinner.”
“Hey!” Allan called. “No showboating! If you need backup, call me!”
Colby smiled. “I will.” She headed out. Now to deal with Trask, she thought. I hope he’s as overconfident as he is stupid. If he wasn’t stupid, he’d have left Allan Taylor alone. He’s arrogant and used to getting his own way. We can use that, I think. If he has anything on a computer, I’ll find it.”