The Long Watch
[Part of the job.]
[Three hours of nothing.]
[Watch this vid, you’ll love it.]
[I think you meant Puddles would love that vid. Nothing?]
[You didn’t like the cute finsi’s? Other than some Red Hand initiates and homeless.]
Looking down from his observation post, three stories above the alley, Chuck wished for the hundredth time, that the doctor would be strolling to his office without a care in the world. Chuck would leap down behind him and with a deft move or two subdue the doc, call Whiskers, and two hours later have the information, complete the case, be a hero, and eat some noodles. Instead, the same garbage, the same large rats, and foul odors. Bling.
Checking his phone a reply from Whiskers, [How many Red Hands?]
Mentally counting, [Five. Why?]
[I have an idea, if your stakeout does not pan out.]
[Do you want me to follow the next Red Hands?]
[I will let you know.]
Chuck rested his back against the wall, pulled his tail close to him to avoid any of the unidentified pools of liquid, and tapped his favorite word game. A few swipes later, Chuck was trying to remember how to spell door in gromathi.
Across the city, sitting in his car at the edge of the 100th floor of a parking garage with an excellent view of the doctor’s carport, Whiskers thought, planned, and flipped through the data Chuck recovered from the doctor’s office. On his windshield, three zones, in the center the master file, to the left information to research in detail, to the right junk. Another swipe to the right and another sigh, too much junk in the file; did the doctor need to keep everything?
Tapping the upper right corner with a claw, Whiskers pulled a live feed window down over the junk. He watched various vehicles fly past the doctors carport before touching the feed and using his claw to adjust the view; nothing new with the doctor’s residence. Sighing, he reset the alarm, and pushed the live feed window to the upper right corner. Taking a long drink from his coffee, Whiskers thought about the potential dangers of following Red Hands.
[The letter word using the letters A, I, L, N, S.]
Whiskers opened a new file, invoices for replacement augment hands; based on the amount and number of entries, the doctor did a lot more surgeries for the Red Hands than expected.
[Begins with A, I, or L.]
Ignoring Chuck’s texts Whiskers continued to read the invoice file; three manufacturers, seven different styles of hands, and a range of prices. The doctor had quite the business in hands. The latest invoice due in three days. Swirling his coffee cup around, Whiskers wondered if there was a way to use the information to find the doctor.
[Found it. What are you doing over there?]
[Not playing a game.]
[I’m bored and it smells.]
[I want you to follow the next Red Hands.]
The live feed window flashed red twice before Whisker noticed. Pulling the window down, he reversed the feed hoping to see the doctor arrive home. A delivery truck stopped at the carport for a few seconds before entering traffic and driving off. Whiskers resumed the live feed and went back to reading.