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014 - “Round and Round and Round We Go.”


Chinatown was one of many parts of the city which hadn’t changed much over the last decades. Since Starfleet had stepped up its activities and beaming had become a less viable means of transport, traffic had increased in the City of the Bay. And in Chinatown especially, where vehicles, both large and small were rivaled by seemingly endless throngs of pedestrians.

A small crowd had gathered at Union Square to protest Federation involvement in the Nyuchiba crisis, giving further proof that even in a society with a sky high satisfaction rate, people would still find something to complain about.

A silver-gray two door hover stood at the corner waiting for a traffic sign to clear.

Gavin was staring out of the window and onto the nearby square.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” observed Tank, sitting in the driver’s seat and flexing his new right arm.

“Huh?” he asked as if woken from a daydream.

“Hey, we’re about to face off with one of the most elusive criminals this city has seen since the Zodiac killer. You better start paying attention.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Gavin said quickly and returned his focus on his partner. “I’ve just been thinking about that woman we met. What was her name? McLaren?”

Tank laughed. “The LT? I don’t blame you, kid, she leaves quite an impression,” he said and shot him a dirty look.

“Now wait a minute. I’m happily married.”

The traffic light changed and the vehicle set in motion on its preset course and without any prompting from Tank. “That’s right. And how long have you been married now? Two weeks?”

“It’ll be three months next Monday. And we have a beautiful little baby girl,” he shot back with mock annoyance. “I was just wondering how you know this LT.”

“She was my CO in the FWA.”

Gavin appeared mystified.

The massive man sighed dramatically. “My commanding officer in the Federation War Alliance.”

“I know what CO means but what’s that war alliance?”

The hover stopped again. A large transport vessel was unloading some of its cargo and blocking half of the narrow street in the progress.

“I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it. The Federation didn’t exactly advertise the program. During the War when it started to look real bleak and troops were becoming a scarce commodity some bright politicians thought it be a real good idea to ask Federation allies and pretty much anyone else who was willing or able to enlist and fight for them.”

“What like mercenaries?”

He shrugged. “I guess that’s what you could call it. In fact because most other governments wanted to stay out of the War the Federation promised to pay them for the troops they would provide. Either with hard currency upfront or with political or economic favors to be redeemed later.”

“Not quite the ideal the Federation strives for, is it?”

Tank frowned at this. “Hey, we did a darn good job. And without us who knows if the Federation would still be here today. Anyway the LT was my boss and I know she doesn’t look it but she was about the toughest solider I’d ever seen.”

The rookie nodded. “After watching her leap across the Himalayas I believe it.”

< All units, this is Slade. Bobbie just had a hit. A public terminal at Broadway and Van Ness. Converge on that position now and use extreme caution. Black is likely to be armed and dangerous. Avoid civilian casualties at all costs. >

“That’s just a few blocks from here,” Gavin realized.

Tank activated the manual control and kicked the hover into overdrive, performing a sharp one hundred eighty. “Armed and dangerous, eh? This ought to be fun.”

Two minutes later the unmarked hover approached the intersection and Tank slowed down.

“You think we catch him distributing stims?” Gavin asked as he scanned his surroundings. His hand had already moved behind his back to unfasten his holster. “I guess that would be icing on the cake, huh?”

“No,” Tank replied. “The icing would be to get him while taking orders from Grayson.”

“One step at a time.”

The intersection was a busy hive of activity. Van Ness Avenue was a wide six lane street designed for the heavy motor traffic of the 20th and 21st century. It was still a major artery, connecting the north shore with the rest of the city. An old mason style church stood at the corner, refusing to blend in with the modern skyscrapers surrounding it.

“There,” Gavin said, pointing at the opposite side of the church and an empty public computer terminal.

Tank considered scanning for life signs. No point. It looked as if a hundred people a minute frequented the intersection. Lunch hour didn’t help.

A few hovers angrily signaled with lights and beeps at the silver vehicle which refused to follow the natural flow of traffic, partly obstructing the intersection.

“Go around, damnit,” Tank shouted at them. One look at the massive driver quickly discouraged any more protests.

“Shall we get out?”

“And go where?”

< We’ve got another hit > Slade’s voice announced. < The Embarcadero, near Pier 19. Tank, Gavin, your closest. Get there now, we’re five minutes out. >

“That’s halfway across town,” Tank realized but nevertheless hit the accelerator hard.

“Take the Broadway tunnel.”

“I don’t need directions, rookie!”

The hover shot down Broadway Street with blaring sirens, swerving aggressively in-between the automated traffic.

They made the two miles through rush hour in record time, Tank barely avoiding a head-on collision with a large public transport vehicle.

The hover lifted off the ground a good five meters as it cleared the tunnel at what the on board computer insistently advised was an unsafe velocity. Tank ignored the warning signals and raced onto The Embarcadero, a long stretch of road running along the wharf.

Gavin held on to the safety rail as if his life depended on it. Traffic accidents were rare but not unheard of. Especially when racing through the city at five times the recommended speed limit.

“Pier nine, fifteen, seventeen,” Tank counted while surprisingly being able to avoid traffic at the same time. “Peer nineteen.” He swerved sharply and right onto the footpath. A few pedestrians had to dive out of the way in order to avoid a trip to the hospital.

Tank hit the brakes and the hover came to a stop right in front of another public terminal. It was being used by an older man who could do nothing but stare wide eyed and in shock at the vehicle which had stopped moving just inches from mowing right over him.

Tank jumped out and Gavin was not far behind.

People all around were looking in their directions, those who were picking themselves up from the ground had a few colorful expressions to share with the rowdy driver.

Tank didn’t pay attention to any of it. He focused on the gray haired man at the terminal instead. “Where is he?”

“Huh? What? … who?” the man was utterly confused. His life had flashed in front of his eyes just seconds before.

“The person who used the terminal before you? Come on, geezer, Where did he go?” Tank shouted. It had never been difficult to be intimidating for Tank, even if he didn’t try. It was not having the desired effect this time though as the old man simply cowered away and refused to speak.

Gavin was surveying the crowd which had gathered around them. A lot of angry pedestrians of all ages and races but nobody who looked remotely familiar to Mister Black.

“I … I just got here,” the man finally managed to stutter.

“Ah, forget it,” Tank said and gave up.

“Alright, there is nothing to see here, people. Move on,” Gavin implored, his training as a Municipal Safety officer taking over.

< Another hit, 386 Pacific. We’ve got him now. >

Tank whipped around his head like a startled dog. “That’s not far. The bastard is moving on foot,” he said and started running, pushing the onlookers aside roughly.

“Hey wait,” Gavin called after him to no avail. He was amazed how fast his huge partner could move, defying physics seemingly at will. There was no way he could keep up.

He jumped back into the driver’s seat of the hover and backed up onto the street but couldn’t quite bring himself to push it as recklessly as Tank had done.

When he was back on the road he had already lost eye sight with him. It didn’t take him long to catch up however. He found him standing in the middle of the small intersection of Pacific and Sansome Street, slowly turning in circles and carefully surveying the surroundings. The public terminal at the corner was not in use.

Gavin parked the vehicle and stepped out. “How does he do that?”

“He’s playing with us,” Tank replied through gritted teeth. He didn’t look like a man who had just covered eight hundred meters in under two minutes. Not a pearl of sweat on that dark, hairless head of his.

“Hey boss,” Gavin said and nodded at a skyscraper just a few blocks down.

Tank turned to look at it. “Son of a bitch.”

Gavin quickly wished he hadn’t pointed out the prominent building. He knew the look in his partner's eyes meant trouble. When he started towards the hover he walked with purpose, pushing Gavin aside to get back into the driver’s seat. The rookie agent quickly jumped back into the vehicle before his partner had a chance to gun the engine again.

“Please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”

Tank didn’t reply but kept his steely focus on the white, pyramid shaped skyscraper they were approaching.

Gavin already knew what he was up to.

“We still don’t have anything to link them, you know that. The fact that he shows up here could be nothing but a coincidence,” Gavin tried to implore but knew there was little point.

“Coincidence?” he mumbled with obvious skepticism.

< Tank, Gavin, we’re at 386 Pacific, where are you? >

< We’re following another lead. >
Gavin replied carefully.

< What lead? > Slade asked immediately.

Gavin didn’t quite know how to reply. Tank did not appear as if he even wanted to entertain an answer to that question as he brought the hover to a halt in front of one of the oldest skyscrapers in the city and got out.

< Er, we’re at 600 Montgomery. >

< You what? You’re not to proceed. You hear me? Do not proceed! >

Gavin watched Tank storm into the lobby. He got out of the hover and followed. < You better get here quick. > he replied and followed Tank.

The Pyramid housed a large number of offices and organization but one sign stood out to Gavin more than all the others. The Grayson Institute.

“Sir, sign in please,” the Grazerite receptionist said when he noticed the barrel-chested Tank approach. He didn’t even slow. “Sir, you need to sign in,” he called after him.

“It’s alright, we’re with MSD,” explained Gavin and flashed his badge at the confused Grazerite as he struggled to keep up with Gavin.

He caught up with him at the turbo lift bank where he waited for a set of doors to open. When they did he stepped inside without hesitation. Gavin slipped in just before they closed.

“Grayson Institute,” Tank demanded.

The lift set in motion. An obnoxious little piece of elevator music began to play.

It did not help to relax Gavin one bit. “So, Slade told us to sit tight, you got that, right?”

No response.

“You have some sort of plan?”

“Black is here, I know it. Once we have him we take Grayson down with him,” Tank explained without giving Gavin so much as a look. “Case closed.”

For a moment nobody spoke as they stood side by side, the music jingling away.

“Okay. And what if he’s not here?”

The lift stopped and the doors opened. Tank stormed out without providing an answer to his partner’s question.

“Yeah, I was afraid of that,” Gavin sighed and followed.

A whole group of pretty female receptionist were waiting for visitors at the lobby of Grayson Institute on the thirty-seventh floor. “How can we be of assistance,” they asked in unison.

This startled Tank and he froze momentarily as he glanced at the five identical red-haired receptionists.

“Are you here to learn more about Gary Grayson and his unique vision of the future of the Federation?” asked number three.

“Would you like to sign up for a five week class?” said number one.

“Or perhaps a two day exploratory course?” That from number five.

Tank shook his head at the absurdity and continued down the main corridor.

Gavin entered the lobby more carefully.

“How can we be of assistance?” the voices inquired again.

Tank found what he was looking for at the end of the large corridor. Two heavy mahogany doors with large golden handles. Tank didn’t knock, it wasn’t his style. He pushed the doors open and stepped into a spacious office. A single man occupied a chair behind a decent sized desk.

Grayson who looked closer to thirty than his actual age of fifty-two quickly stood. He brushed away a few strays of his long silvery hair which did nothing to diminish his boyishly good looks. “Do we have an appointment?” he asked, seemingly completely undisturbed by Tank’s sudden appearance.

Tank looked around the large office but found no one. “Where is he?”

Grayson rounded his desk. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we have been introduced. My name is Gary Grayson, president of Grayson Institute. And you are?”

Tank continued to inspect the office with great scrutiny. “You know exactly who I am.”

Gavin cautiously slipped into the office. One hand resting on his holstered Fletcher 88 Enforcer.

Grayson watched Tank curiously as he inspected the office and then looked at his younger partner. “Of course. You are with Municipal Safety, aren’t you? Is there a problem? I’m always interested in fully cooperating with the authorities.”

Tank whipped around. “Stove it, Grayson. Where is Black? Where are you hiding him?”

A look of befuddlement crossed Grayson’s face. “I’m sorry who?”

“We are looking for a man we wish to bring in for questioning,” Gavin tried to explain with a lot more tact. “He dresses completely in black, wouldn’t be hard to spot.”

“I see,” Grayson replied. “And what makes you think he would be here?”

“Well, we followed him and …” Gavin didn’t quite know how to explain it himself.

Tank had no such problems. “Don’t play stupid, Grayson. We know he works for you.”

Grayson laughed but quickly caught himself when he noticed Tank flexing his massive muscles in annoyance. “Please forgive me, gentlemen. I know of the rumors on the streets of course but I had hoped that the people trusted to protect and serve wouldn’t take those preposterous stories seriously. I promise you, I am not involved with any petty crime activities in this city.”

Tank took a menacing step toward Grayson who to his credit failed to show signs of being intimidated. “Listen Grayson, you save your fairy tales for your deluded students ““

“That’s quite enough!”

Slade had entered the office. He was followed by Martinez and Eldex, also field agents for CCiD.

“You’re done here, Tank,” Jackson Slade fumed angrily.

“I’m not done.”

“Yes, you are,” the two men stared at each other.

“Well, gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m late for a lecture,” Grayson said calmly. “You will have to excuse me now. If you wish to speak to me, please feel free to make an appointment at reception. I’ll have more time to answer your questions that way,” he added and headed for the doors.

“Mister Grayson, I sincerely apologize for this uncalled intrusion. I can assure you that this visit was not sanctioned by MSD,” he said and shot another accusing glance at Tank.

“No need to apologize,” Grayson replied when he had reached the doors. “But I do hope that any future visits could be handled gracefully,” he said and shot a glance towards a fuming Tank. “I’m sure my good friend the mayor would agree.” He looked at Slade once more. “I trust you will find your own way out?”

Slade nodded. “Certainly.”

And with that Gary Grayson was gone.

“Goddamnit, Tank. What the hell?” Slade said, hardly able to constrain his anger.

But the colossal agent wasn’t even paying attention. He was playing with the thought of taking apart the office piece by piece. He ultimately dismissed it. “I know he’s here,” he finally said and headed for the exit without exchanging another glance with Slade.

The team leader focused on the rookie. “And you? I expected more from you.”

“What? Listen I tried to ““

But Slade had heard enough already. “Not here. Let’s get back to headquarters. I’m sure Masamune will not be pleased,” he said and turned on his heels.


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