The days have passed and still no sign of Jones. His much-missed presence resonates in the dismantled Lacey. She remembers a lot of shouting in the opposing box, and then a small interval of silence. And just as she felt safe, all she hears and feels is an explosion, a shock wave that felt like it had taken away her heart. The blast threw out a horrific roar that would tear apart a lion's ego, it was horrid. Try to simulate the situation: you are sitting blindfolded while being right next to the person you are trying to save and still couldn't do it. How much pain does it inflict in you to know that you lost someone you love for the only good of sacrificing his or her life for you, to keep you on this planet? Let us not stay hooked to the point of obsession with Ethan's theoretical death.
As the days flew by I had to get back to my job. As an FBI agent, my only job is to analyze every bad guy's personality, crime patterns, tendencies and weapon selection. This week, I was assigned the criminal life of Theodore L. Johnson, a multi-millionaire murderer that lives on his victims' money. He was just an ordinary lover from Chicago, a normal human being in a relationship with a woman named Matilda. Matilda was a French pianist that came to the U.S to get discovered. They had hit it off for two years when one day, as they were cuddling in the corner of a certain street, she got a heart attack and fell in the shocked young Theodore. The man's unforgotten love turned into an obsession, thru which a long strain of probably 159 different murders. Every one of those murders had female victims. If only Ethan was here, he would have determined the highly stealthy pattern and finish up the job in no time. I miss him. Anyways, the only missing link in every one of those murders is the weapon used. All the victims have no physical sign of any assault or violence. It was as if they just stopped breathing and just died. Insanely weird right? I mean how does he do it? Does he replace every one of his victims with a clone of some sort? Huh, all this thinking is making my head hurt. We always catch him but the law says that if there is no weapon tied to the suspect then the suspect cannot be thrown in jail. My only wish was that I could catch that doofus and get done with him. Now, after all that presenting, I was alerted to suspicious activity on the corner of Roscoe Village and West Lakeview, it must be him. As soon as I heard the message, I ran to my car and drove all the way to that location and finally save a young citizen's life. The night roads were deserted, not one specimen of life, not even a stray dog. As if the whole town had its citizens held captive in their homes. It seemed to me that Mr Johnson knew how to choose his murder scene. As I was only a few meters away from my destination, I heard a scream, a fall and a sort of dragging noise. I stopped the car in the middle of the road and rushed to the source of the scream, I found the victim on the ground suffocating. I called 911, but I was just a couple of seconds too late. This night tormented me so many times that I started trying to look back myself at that night. I still could not recall seeing or at least spotting a man running away from the crime scene, so I went to the IT lab and asked for the recordings made by the night cameras from the location of the crime scene yesterday between midnight and 4:00 AM. After receiving the hard drive with the recording on, I headed straight for home.
On the way, I received a call from a private number.
I presumed it was from Mr Won Kee (head of engineers at "the gang"). I answered:
- Yes, Boss!
- So you read the privacy perfectly Lacey. Listen, I need you to come to the Western base for a few fix-ups. Okay?
-Sure!” I hung up and continued my drive home. I have never had this much work to do: Three jobs, two secrets to hide from the government and one person I truly miss. I will never forget the day Ethan found drinking heavily in a corner behind some pub. I was going thru a mental breakdown as my powers had a number of people, one of them was my mother. When I was 5, the age at which your powers first show, as my mother was giving me a bubble bath, I fell into a small coma, shutting down all my senses for more than 48 hours. I woke up in my bedroom with my bed covered in a thick sheet of ice that extended to the floor that was transformed into an indoor ice skating rink. All I could see was ice. My toys, the furniture, even my hands were frozen to the bed. I remember firemen attempting to crack the door open for over an hour before they fell upon the supernatural sighting that was before them. I also remember my mom pushing her way through the horde of speechless firemen until she ironically froze in place as I looked at her with indifference. She seemed to have a face that would be described by some to show sorrow. Whereas to any other person would show fear and chagrin. Every time I would recall this it would seem to show new hidden details I hadn't noticed the prior time. Please keep in mind that carriers of SDNA have a memory that is simply unmodifiable by the brain's uncanny and vane ways of embellishing our memories as it chooses the details it wants or feels like it needs to keep, sometimes based on sentiments we felt like sorrow, sadness, happiness, euphoria or even disgust. The reason behind this inability to change our memories can be presented by this simplified idea: we basically cannot access editing zones in our brain as that space was used for something else. I am not really sure for what that is but I can tell you that neighbouring regions have taken that area to enhance some of the other senses or something. I don't remember how Ethan explained it. Yes! Even if we cannot edit our memories that does not mean they do not get deleted. Okay? To sum up all this text: not all I see is memorized, but is memorized is kept intact. Anyways! Back to the story! Ah man! I'm starting to narrate like Ethan now! WHY???
I arrived at the west base where 15 loaders containing what seemed to be stolen engines from a cargo ship coming in from Japan. I would guess these would be for the GT-Rs the got off the Slayers' warehouse. BTW: The Slayers is just another gang in competition with Poseidon's Trident. And what better way to deliver two knockout blows to your rivals than to take their own stuff and then use it against them. That is the chief's plan at least. Such surprising logical reasoning isn't it? Anyways! I pulled my sleeves, took off my heels, wore my rhino boots and went in to start working on those beauties. As I entered the chop shop, I could notice over 15 other mechanics working on the stolen cars with some of the gang members shoving guns up the new recruits' back. I saw one of the gangsters shouting at one of the recruits:" Work faster! If you can't work under pressure then I'll be forced to kill you!” The poor guy couldn't concentrate over all of the pressure, I could sense his urge to attempt a getaway. He had a fit body, his big hands showed some scars on the knuckles corresponding to his last two fingers, indicating that he was an amateur boxer with anger issues. I also noticed him constantly looking around for a way to escape.
I finished connecting the engine to the transmission. I don't know if it was the extreme smell of overused lubricants or the fact that I have already lost one too many people to the gang's work for me or die format that got me thinking of a plan to get Mr Wussy Fister out of this mechanics' heaven raided by demons. "If I was you I would concentrate on how precious these cars are to the gang," I said to him as I passed by the car he was working on. He looked at me with astonishment. I hinted to start running. He nodded his head. I asked for his number as I congratulated him for his incredible work. He answered:"
- I don't give my number to strangers. Even if they were asking out on a date.
- I am asking for your number on behalf of the mechanics' department for future collaborations."
He looked at his tool kit, pointing me to the location of his phone. I looked around the car pretending to find out what the car model was when I spotted in the corner of my eye a small puddle of oil on my left next to the tool kit. And so the getaway plan was underway. I began by intentionally slipping on the oil puddle knocking the nearby guard to the floor as I tried to regain my balance, prompting the guy to start running. He ran for the exit whilst staying at a close range from the other cars. He proceeded to hi-jacking one of the cars that were parked outside and drove off to freedom. And guess whose car it was? Mine. I used my mind control thingy to move the car a little closer to the entrance. Genius!! As the getaway driver was getting further away from the base, the gangsters ran out to try and shoot the car to a halt. I then shouted out to the guy in charge of the men with a disappointed tone:" Let that weakling go. He's worthless to us as he was working at a sluggish pace. I'll take care of his work. You do want to finish before sunrise? You know that we have another retrieval job off the H-Bombers. The package contains nitro kits and suspension upgrades for these vehicles. Oh! Did I also mention the second cargo is supposed to contain the heavy armour plates and the suspension upgrades? Am I on beat here Sir?" He looked at me with a sceptical figure for a while as he tried to make assumptions on how I knew about all of this. He then replied:" Yes! You are most definitely correct Miss Jones. However, I feel the need to ask you the following question. How were you able to piece all this together as we didn't give any intel to the mechanics department?
- Well. The new engines are made to work under the weight of a Humvee, highly durable parts, rigged to give less torque and more fuel consumption to counter the effect of the extra weight on the wheels. This would explain why you want the suspension and armour cargo. I also noticed a shortage in our nitro storage tanks. This would justify why you are so eager to get these cars ready for the road by dawn. And if my memory is accurate enough, the H-Bombers have scheduled stock deliveries on the second Monday of every month. However, someone made arrangements to postpone that delivery by a couple of days. And remember that the H-Bombers are ranked first for their nitro boost equipment for both quality and price. And I finally rest my case! You can piece the rest of the equation up yourself.
- Incredible! Uncanny! Unbelievable! Anyways! Enough wasting time! Everyone, BACK TO WORK!"
I took my towel, cleaned as much of the oil off my face as I could and went back to work. I have his phone and he has mine. This means he will try to contact me in order to get his stuff back. The minute I got out, after my "shift", the cell phone rang. "Hello?", "It's me." he said, "when and where?", "The billiard club half a mile away from your current location. Be there as soon as possible.", "You got it!", "Oh! And ... Thank you for saving Me.", "You're welcome! And don't worry about them anymore. However, you must remain alert at all times. They've caught my husband and I off guard once before and it did not end well.", "Oh! I'm... I'm sorry for your loss.", "sniff it’s okay! Thank you for caring.", "You're welcome. By the way, my name I...” I cut him off. "Don't say your name on the phone.", "Yes. Again. Thanks.", "See ya in a bit!", "Bye."
It didn't take me long to get to the meeting place. I quickly spotted my car with what seemed to be the runaway. I got in the car. "Here is your phone, your car and my number with my name on it.",” Good luck with your boxing match Jayson.", "Thanks. How did you guess my name? You haven't even read my contact info on your phone." I saw your boxing equipment and your pre-match coat with your name on it as I was coming into the car.",” Wow! How did you do that so quickly?", “Observation! Your accuracy and speed depend on practice. Just like boxing. Train yourself by looking around and capturing details everywhere you look! It could boost your thinking speed and reflexes in a boxing match too!", “Wow! I'll keep that in mind."” Alright! Do you need a ride?", "Naaa! The ring is only a few hundred yards away."” Okay. Well! See you later.", “See ya!"
He stepped out of the car and jogged away. I moved to the driver's seat and started driving home.