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Simulation: A Pop Travel Novel Page 5


  Geri didn’t move. She knew he would break first. His strict, short manner combined with his perfect posture, extremely neat desk, and spotless uniform said he was painfully methodical and organized. She reached into her pocket to pull out her lipstick when he finally came around. The line behind her had grown and he couldn’t have that unruliness at his window.

  Putting on a snake-like smile, he addressed her in a sugary sweet tone, “Can I help you?”

  “Agents Harper and Boscowicz, FBI. We need to speak to someone in the crime lab.”

  “Sure. I’ll just buzz you right through.” He must have majored in sarcasm.

  Aimee stepped out and actually spoke, “That’s great! I thought it was going to be tough to get in.”

  Geri and the officer stared at Aimee like she was speaking an alien dialect.

  Realizing her mistake, she whipped a hand up to cover her mouth.

  “Is she for real?” The officer raised a finger and waggled his head back and forth as he chastised them. “No, you can’t just go into the crime lab. The waiting list of cases with samples and specimens alone is longer than the line to get into Rapture on a Saturday night. They can’t be bothered by every moron who wanders in off the street, no matter how important they think they are. The form is on our website. Fill it out and you will get an appointment. As you can see, I am very busy. Thank you. Next!” He shooed at them.

  “Now was that so hard?” Geri spat back at him. “Come on, Agent Boscowicz. There are other ways in.”

  “Not through this door,” he called after them.

  Outside, Aimee burst with apologies as they walked back to the car.

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. That man was horrible. How are we going to get in? It sounds like it will take weeks.”

  “That’s the APD. They’re always swamped. That’s why you have to have connections.” Geri winked.

  “Great!” Aimee noted it on her QV.

  Geri had connections, all right. She cringed at the thought of calling the man she needed. Cooper had introduced Geri to Stu Rothstein, a buddy from his lawyer days. In certain situations, he was a valuable asset, but the rest of the time he was a lazy slob who had a thing for her. Now that she and Cooper were over, she feared the barrage of pick-up lines he would launch at her. Unfortunately, she needed to find out exactly what the problem had been with identifying that finger. It had to be a screw up or malfunction of some sort. Knowing Stu, he probably dropped it in his soup.

  With a sigh, she spoke to her QV and called him.

  An average-looking guy with chin-stubble and curly brown hair, wearing a stained white lab coat burst onto the imager. “Geri? No. It can’t be Geri. It is Geri! Hey, sweetheart. How are ya?”

  Yeah. He seemed real busy in that lab. “Hey, Stu. Hate to bother you at work, but I have some questions about a finger that came through there earlier this week. I heard you had a little trouble identifying who it belonged to. Think you could help me out?”

  He pursed his lips, probably coming up with a way to squeeze a dinner out of her. “That depends.”

  Here we go. “On what?”

  “On how much you’re willing to play. I mean pay.” He winked.

  Eww. “Funny, Stu. Funny. How ‘bout it?”

  “Just kidding with ya, Geri. Of course I can help you. Anything for Cooper’s girl, even though you’re his ex-girl. Come on by Friday morning. I’ll put you on the schedule for 9:30 a.m.”

  “That’s great, Stu. Thanks. I guess I owe you.” She disconnected and shuddered, afraid of what she might owe him. Then she smiled, thinking of the pained expression the receptionist would have on his face Friday morning. She hoped it was the same guy.

  Aimee knocked Geri out of her thoughts. “Who’s Cooper?”

  Geri narrowed her eyebrows at the girl again. She was going to have to stop that or the wrinkles would become permanent before their time. How young was this girl that she didn’t know about Cooper from the pop travel scandal? Then again, Cooper hid from the public eye like a vampire from the sun. Geri wondered how she got together with him in the first place. With her bold, bright personality and his under-a-rock lifestyle, they were complete opposites.

  “No one special.” Not anymore, at least.

  Aimee tilted her head and gave a nod. Though she didn’t know who he was, the girl wasn’t dumb. Geri could tell she suspected there was more to the Cooper story, but would save further questioning for later. She could always go look it up.

  “So, Aimee. What should we do next?” Geri was ready to head home for a nice hot bath and a big sandwich. They could dive back into their thrilling investigation tomorrow. The DNA wasn’t going anywhere.

  Unfortunately, Aimee had an overabundant supply of energy. “I think we should talk to the agents on the Negrini case and find out who Rage is.”

  “I’m with you, but most agents don’t like other agents nosing around their cases. We’ll have to soften them up and make them understand we don’t want to step on their toes, we just want some info. They’re touchy.” Especially Agent Fournier. Geri wasn’t looking forward to that reunion.

  Aimee thought for a second, then brightened. “I know. We can bring them a present. Like a peace offering.”

  Or a bribe. Geri tilted her head, considering the idea. Kissing up wouldn’t hurt. “Okay. How about this? You do some more research on our buddy, Rage, or whatever his name is. It’s a good bet he’s associated with Negrini somehow. And let’s get some more DNA research ammo under our belts. Then we can visit the agents on Friday after we go to the police crime lab. I’ll let you come up with a peace offering for the agents. You know what? Bring something extra for Stu.” Hopefully it would be enough of a payment for him.

  Aimee recorded Geri’s instructions with her QV and paused when she stopped talking. “Anything else?”

  Geri frowned. She didn’t like being on camera that way. When she started to answer, Aimee held up her QV to resume filming her. Geri put her hand in front of it.

  “Must you?”

  The girl put down her arm and shut the QV imager. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to forget anything.”

  Shaking her head, Geri relented. “That’s fine, but you shouldn’t be so dependent on that thing. Some conversations should stay just between us. Once you document it, it’s fair game.”

  Aimee nodded vigorously. “You’re right. Of course.” She concentrated on Geri’s face.

  “Now what was I saying?”

  “You were going to add something to our preparation for Friday’s meetings.”

  “Right. I’ll talk to Chris, er, Dr. Moore in our lab to see what he came up with on it.”

  Aimee beamed. “I’m so happy to be working with you, Geri. I know I’m going to learn so much.”

  “Great.” As Geri parked under the federal building, she told Skipper to go on ahead. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  “Okay. I’ll settle in and get started on the research. They should’ve moved my desk next to yours by now.”

  Oh, goody. Geri gave the girl a weak smile and nod, then opened her QV as if she was going to make a call. When the elevator doors closed on the waving, ever-smiling Aimee, Geri banged her head on the steering wheel. The futile case and exuberant rookie were giving her a massive migraine. DNA tampering was way out of her range of expertise. She felt like she’d been assigned this case just to groom the new girl so she could step over her.

  Geri sighed again. Since she was stuck for now, she measured up her new partner, looking for the positives, as she did with all her new saddlebags. Based on their first day, Geri looked past Aimee’s inexperience and perkiness and judged the rookie to be bright and thorough. The girl was perfect for some busy work on a wild goose chase involving the puzzle of DNA. But how would little Aimee handle herself when she came face to face with an electrogun or a big bad wolf? She needed a test.

  Then it came to her and she snapped her fingers. Stu would do nicely. He was big and scary.


  With a grin, Geri stroked her neck. I think I feel a scratchy throat coming on.

  Atlanta, GA

  Friday, June 12, 2082

  Cooper tore around the corner after his much younger mark. He wished he had on tennis shoes and swore to himself he would take up jogging again if he made it home without having a heart attack. To make things worse, a stitch pinched his side. He dug deep through the pain and cursed himself for letting the kid get such a good lead on him. At least the downtown sidewalks weren’t too busy, so he didn’t have to swerve around too many people. But that meant the kid had little blocking his way, as well.

  Considering how fast the kid ran, Cooper wondered at his ironic nickname, Slug. His real name was Santiago Chavez and at thirteen, he thought he knew everything, like most kids that age. Slug had muddy brown skin and darker brown hair and eyes. The skinny youth in his reflective skullcap had no idea how good his life was.

  Most city teens dropped out of school to work, whether to support a drug habit or to support their families. Slug was one of the lucky ones, though he thought he had it rough living in a strictly-run foster home. He’d been separated from his twenty-year-old drug-addicted brother in the placement, but had a strong-willed grandmother watching his back. When Slug ran away, his foster mom called the police and Grandma Chavez called Cooper.

  Fiddling around in his coat pocket as he ran, Cooper felt the two gadgets he had to choose from to stop the kid. He ran past a local pop travel station, and Slug pulled farther away. Cooper had to make a quick decision—the disk or the horn. When Slug ducked into an alley, Cooper’s choice was made. He picked up the pace so he didn’t lose the speedy runaway, ignoring the jabbing cramp in his side and the burning in his lungs.

  Turning the corner into the alley, Cooper saw Slug glance over his shoulder to check on him and threw the five-inch disk over the kid’s head.

  “Ha, ha. You missed me. Perdedor!” The smart-ass snapped a photo with his QV. But when he turned back to see where he was going and speed away, he skidded to a halt, catching himself before he crashed into some garbage bags.

  Two seconds before, the disk had hit the ground and instantly projected a very realistic three-dimensional image of an old brick wall, complete with overflowing garbage bags, broken crates, and shadows. Cooper would have to tell Hasan how well the gadget worked.

  Slug stood there scratching his head. “Qué? Where’d that come from? I swear this alley went all the way through.”

  Just inside the alley entrance, Cooper stopped and took a moment to catch his breath. He bent over and held up a finger for Slug to wait a sec while he panted. He knew the kid wouldn’t wait for long, so he spoke between jagged breaths.

  “Sorry, Santiago. I got ya.”

  “Slug. It’s Slug.”

  “Fine, sure. Why do they call you Slug anyway?”

  The skinny kid raised his fists in a fighting pose and gave Cooper a couple of dancing jabs. “Because my punch is like a metal bullet hitting you. A slug.”

  Cooper straightened. “I see. Well, Slug, you should make this easy on everyone and just come with me.”

  Slug took a step backward, toward the fake wall. “No way! That foster family is capital L-oco. I’m better off on the street. If I can’t find my brother, maybe I’ll take my chances in the Unknown City.”

  Slug’s grandmother said the kid’s brother, Pedro, worked for the gang lord, Negrini. If his brother was missing, he wouldn’t be found. Not alive anyway.

  Cooper took a step toward the kid. “That’s no life. Don’t you have any hopes for the future? Aspirations?” Would a thirteen-year-old understand that stuff yet? The Unknown City was a last resort, a viable alternative to suicide. No one wanted to go there. People went there thinking they could escape—escape from dire situations or escape loss or both. But it wasn’t easy to get in. According to one of his contacts, if a person didn’t have a solid reason, he’d be turned away. Runaways and wanted felons weren’t welcome unless there were extenuating circumstances. Cooper had no idea who was in charge to make such decisions or how they determined who was allowed in, but he knew this kid would be laughed out, and probably given a kick in the butt to boot.

  The skinny kid pounded his slight chest. “I’m my own man. I make my own rules.” His voice cracked.

  “Then you don’t want to go to the UC. They may not have police or school, but they sure have rules. And the kids serve the adults to earn their keep. You’d work harder there than with your foster folks and you’d have a harder time making your way in the real world if you ever wanted to leave.”

  “I don’t care. I won’t go back!”

  Slug bolted past Cooper and shoved him off balance

  But Cooper was ready for him. He grabbed the kid’s bare arm and held him long enough to snatch the cap off his head, then he let go before he got kicked or punched as the kid scrambled to get away.

  Watching Slug run off, Cooper shook his head. Good thing he didn’t have kids. He would never have been able to put up with that kind of crap. He stepped over to retrieve the disk and turned off the projector, smiling as he put it in his pocket. Now he was ready to call his buddy, Stu, at the police station.

  He spoke to his QV wrist imager, “Call Stu Rothstein.”

  The round, jovial face of his pale black friend popped up.

  “Rothstein, here. Oh, it’s you.” He sounded disappointed, unlike his normal joking self.

  “Hey, Stu. You got time to run a DNA test for me?”

  His friend huffed at him. “When are you going to break down and pay for a DNA reader yourself? My caseload is pretty backed-up, ya know.” Now he sounded downright ticked that Cooper called. Who dusted sour sprinkles on his donut this morning?

  Cooper held up his hands. “All right. I will. Jeez. Take it easy. I swear this will be the last one.”

  Stu’s head wobbled. “I’m sorry, man. It’s okay. I’m just a little stressed. Drop it off at lunchtime and you can have it Monday.”

  That was more like it. “Great. Thanks. Usual payment?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Gotta go. See you then.” He disconnected before Cooper could say bye.

  Wonder what’s up with him? Stu usually burned out Cooper’s ear, often making him forget to ask his favor. He shrugged it off to a heavy workload.

  Hopefully Stu could get the ID confirmation for him sooner rather than later. Though he knew it was the right kid, he needed incontrovertible proof in order to forcibly take Santiago home to his foster mother. Cooper wasn’t excited about keeping tabs on Slug through the weekend—not that he had any big plans. At least he would find him again easily enough with the tracking salve he’d rubbed on the kid’s arm. He was putting a lot of faith into Hasan’s claim that it would last a good two weeks.

  Atlanta, GA

  Friday, June 12, 2082

  tu shut his QV and smiled wide for Aimee, bearing a scary resemblance to a beady-eyed shark. “Sorry about that, sweetheart. Now where were we?”

  Geri got a shiver from his obvious desire and she wasn’t even in the room. She watched Aimee and Stu’s interaction through the girl’s glasses cam while she waited in the car so she wouldn’t spread her germs, cough, cough. She could see and hear everything that went on and could whisper in Aimee’s earpiece or dash into the police station to help her if she saw the girl struggling.

  “You were about to show me the anomaly in the DNA test of the finger.” Her polite, mechanical response rebuffed Stu’s obvious overtures. The girl had a lot more patience than Geri. She felt a little guilty for letting her go to their appointment alone, but she had to see if the girl had grits.

  Stu pointed at her. “You’re right. Follow me, little lady.” The paunchy, light-skinned black man had gained a few pounds since Geri saw him last. He would look much better if he just shaved his head, rather than let the fringe of curls poof out to the sides around his receding hairline. Give him a red nose and he’d make a good clown.

  “A shame Geri couldn’t come. You
say she’s not feeling well?”

  The image bobbed up and down with Aimee’s nod. “Yes. She has a sore throat. I hope it doesn’t get any worse. This is our first case together.”

  Geri hung her head. Strike one. This naïve young girl had no common sense, typical with book smart kids. She whispered into Aimee’s earpiece.

  “Don’t give anyone additional information. The less others know, the better.”

  “Right. Sorry,” Aimee replied.

  “What’d you say?” He tilted his head at her as they reached his office in the rear of the lab and held the door open for her.

  Aimee walked past him into the small dark room. “Oh, nothing. Is that the electropherogram?”

  Geri smiled. Good cover and distract tactic.

  Stu whipped his head around to gawk at Aimee. “You know what this is called?”

  “Of course. I’ve done some research.”

  “Very good.” Stu sat down and pointed to the image. “As you can see, we had four matches come up because there were too many null alleles in the sample. Once we narrowed it down, we went old school and took the print. It was a finger, after all, right?” He chuckled.

  But Aimee was all business. “I see. Has this ever happened before?”

  Stu scratched one of the tufts of hair on the side of his head and Geri saw some dandruff fly out. Eww!

  “No. Now that you mention it. We’ve had close calls before, but never an overlap this drastic. All of our equipment is way past due for an upgrade. That’s why we are so behind all the time. I figured the issue was just another glitch. But I’m good at improvising.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Hmm. Do you know what might cause such an overlap?”

  “Mutations, chemical imbalances, disease. You name it. Null alleles are rare, so this specimen was ridiculously damaged.”

  Geri sniffed. In other words, ask a real scientist.

  Aimee nodded. “I see. Well, Mr. Rothstein, thank you for sharing this information with us.”