"So, how'd that date with the blondie go last night - what was her name again? Alex, Abi..."...
Hell Hath No Fury (AU - Deus Ex: HR)
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"So, how'd that date with the blondie go last night - what was her name again? Alex, Abi..."
"Alison. It was Alison."
"Ooh, that sounds promising!"
"Shut it Daph. The commander's on stakeout."
"She is perfectly capable of multitasking. And besides you've been, what? Sitting around, twiddling your thumbs for the last hour? Thought you could use a little break!"
"How's the homeless life anyway, Jensen?"
"Pretty good. I've nearly made five bucks. Soon enough I'll have money to go buy my late night dinner."
"No second date?"
"It didn't work out. Incompatible personalities and all that."
"Aw, sweetie... why don't you come around after then? I'll make you some of my world famous nachos."
"Had your nachos before, Daph, and they're more like world infamous. I doubt the commander wants to be in the loo for an hour."
"My nachos are perfectly fine! I just had them last night, for your information!"
"No, you had a double cheeseburger combo and a coke."
"...Alright, that is super creepy. What, do you go through my trash or something?!"
"Oh please, I go through everyone's trash. It is sort of my gig." Eva frowned, then lowered her hand and adjusted her hood. "Pipe down the chatter," she murmured, "I see two guys, straight ahead. One's wearing a red jacket."
"Jensen," Klack commented dryly, "just because one of them is wearing a red jacket doesn't mean they're part of the Derelict Row Ballers."
"No, I recognise him." Eva stood, hunching her back and keeping her head low so she didn't meet the eyes of anyone as she walked past. The disguise was solid; Daphne had spent many hours aging the jacket and hoodie, making them look utterly worn and threadbare. In combination with the hand-me-down pants, gloves and a little bit of makeup, Eva was indistinguishable from any member of the homeless in Detroit.
But a good disguise was only half the equation. Eva had been on stakeout many times before and she knew that if she didn't get the mannerisms right it could be the difference between life and death.
And when you were chasing down a lead for the kidnapping of a young girl, you couldn't afford to spare anything in attention to detail.
As Eva moved closer, she could see that her earlier hunch was right. The second one had walked into the apartment building, but the man in the red jacket was standing outside, smoking a cigarette, apparently untroubled by the rain. He turned around, and though her face was convincingly hidden by both her disguise and the crowd Eva automatically moved out of his perception, hunching over a trashcan and pretending to rummage through it. In the split-second when they faced each other, however, Eva had gotten a good look at his face.
"It's Smoke," she muttered as she continued to rummage through the trashcan. Though the scar on his left cheek had faded, it was still marred by an ugly red line, and his blocky bone structure and body shape were recognisable to anyone who had seen him on the wanted lists and the nightly news. "I'd recognise that ugly face anywhere."
Smoke. One of the most infamous members of the Derelict Row Ballers. He was wanted for multiple accounts of homicide, arson, thievery, vandalism, you name it - and here he was, walking the streets like any other free man. It disgusted her.
"Got eyes on him commander. What's a thug like Smoke doing in a place like this?"
"Same reason we're here, no doubt." Eva answered. "This confirms the tip we have is good, at least. The Derelict Row Ballers are involved."
"For what?" Aria hissed, adding her voice to the conversation for the first time. "Are they - "
"I don't think so. Daughter of a wealthy businessman like that, prostitution would be a waste. A ransom? Hostage? None of this is making any sense so far. But I guess we'll find out." Eva said grimly.
Eva stayed in her position for the next minute or so, watching Smoke from out of the corner of her eye. As she finished her rummaging she shuffled forward, hunching her back and shivering, arms over her stomach like she was extremely ill. She had seen plenty of people out on the streets thanks to Neuropozyne, and they had a certain twitchiness about them that was easy to emulate.
A Neuropozyne case was always good for a disguise. Eva knew she didn't look perfectly like a member of the homeless, but the addicts were often middle class whites who got desperate and ran shit out of luck. And there were plenty of augmentations that weren't obvious, like eye or cranial implants, enough that Eva was sure she could pass a quick look over or a questioning by a passing officer. None of the cops in this district were clean, though, and she'd prefer if it didn't happen at all. There was always the rare possibility that one of them recognised her.
Smoke eventually finished his cigarette, tossing it into the gutter and walking inside the building. Eva started to lengthen her stride, slowly at first, until she reached the alley right beside the entrance. She counted silently in her head, waiting five minutes before entering.
Eva wasn't stopped as she entered, since there wasn't a guard - or if there was, he wasn't at the reception. The interior would have looked nice, she noted as she walked through, had it not been so run down, but that was what you got with places like this.
The apartment building was in an awkward district, sandwiched between gang territory and the "good" parts of Detroit. It was the reason it made a good location - close enough to their own territory that it wasn't difficult to access, and close enough to neutral territory so that it appeared legitimate. And in the past hour that Eva had been sitting, pretending to beg, only one other person had entered or exited the building.
She went up the stairs and ducked into the first floor, opening the door to the broom closet and stepping inside. Eva stripped off her oversized jacket and pulled her weapons out from underneath her hoodie: a stun gun with four darts and a 10mm with a standard magazine. Hopefully she wouldn't have to use the pistol, but better safe than sorry.
"Right, just like we went through." Eva repeated as she ducked out and crouched, going up the stairs silently. "Don't do anything rash. Only bail me out if it looks like I'm in trouble, and only shoot to get them to scramble for cover. Don't. Hit. Them."
"You do realise, commander, that what we're doing isn't exactly legal. I mean, we could get into a shitload of trouble for even doing this, let alone what my part entails."
Eva chuckled softly as she continued climbing the floors. "And I've never heard you protest."
"Just saying."
"Duly noted. If it goes well, we should be in and out, no problem at all." Eva narrowed her eyes as she came to the right floor. "Alright, let's do this."
The tenth floor was empty, like most of the building, but Eva knew this was the right floor. And as she peeked out from behind the doorway, she could see two Ballers on patrol, carrying pistols and dressed fully in gang colours and attire. They must have rented out this floor completely, or at least muscled in enough so that other people wouldn't.
There was a crackle of static in her ear. "I've moved positions. In place, commander."
Eva raised her weapon, took a deep breath, and peeked out again. There was a definite pattern to the way the two of them patrolled. One would walk down the hallway and back, the other stood otherwise silent, guarding the door, and occasionally walking away to check the other window. There was a small window of opportunity, here, but she would only get it once - if she screwed up, that was her cover blown completely.
As soon as the second guard moved away, Eva shifted into motion. She shuffled forward in the same crouch, her knees tensed until she got right behind the Baller, and lunged, threading her arms around his neck.
The Baller gasped, writhing wildly as Eva applied pressure, adjusting her arms so that they were right on top of an artery in his neck. She wasn't as burly as he was, but she didn't need to be, all she had to do was constrict the blood supply until he slept. She silently counted in her head as the gangster's thrashing began to weaken, but it wasn't as fast as she would have liked. Come on, come on, come on...
"Hey! Fucking get over here! We have an intruder!"
Shit! Eva twisted the man around and released her grip, stepping back before slamming him with several fast jabs to his neck, groin and eye. She didn't want to do it so noisily, but the decision had been taken from her - the other guard had apparently decided to come back early, and he was running forward, his weapon raised.
Except he was a fraction of a second too slow. Eva disabled the gangster with a final blow to his ears, hard enough that he would be out for a spell, and leapt to the floor, just as the other opened fire.
The bullets whistled over her head, kicking up splinters and dust as it punched through the wallpaper. Eva rolled into a crouch, whipping out her stun gun.
The gangster got lucky. He got her unprepared, and had time to line up his aim properly - now that she had changed positions he was too slow to move his gun, and there was a loud crack as the stun dart struck him, dropping him instantly. That was the problem with the stun gun, of course. It was non-lethal, but it was too damn noisy. If anybody in the floor wasn't alerted by the shouting and shooting - and Eva highly doubted that - the stun gun would have alerted them.
"Who's this fucker?" Smoke was so loud Eva could hear the thudding of his footsteps as he approached. "You're fucking dead, you hear me?!"
Eva had barely enough time to get behind the corner before Smoke kicked down the door and let loose with a shotgun, the roar of the weapon loud enough to make her ears ring. She switched to her pistol and rested the barrel on the corner, firing off a few shots in an attempt to make him hide, but Smoke was undeterred - he continued firing, screaming off insults as he rapidly approached.
"You've fucked with the wrong crew! The Derelict Row Ballers are gonna get you, you fucker! Your whole family is dead! Your fucking pet is dead!"
Take a chill pill, Eva thought, counting the shots in her head.
"- you and everyone you loved, dead! Who the fuck are you working for? Those goddamn robots? That fucking dipshit hacker? You are - "
Crack!
And Smoke, one of the most fearsome gang members of the Derelict Row Ballers, wanted for multiple homicide, first-degree murder, arson, and just about every major gang-related crime you could think of, went down like a light. Eva stepped over him, kicking his shotgun away in case he got up again. The stun gun would have him out completely for a while, but she didn't want to take any chances. She got lucky, for some reason. The man was inexplicably enraged. She resisted the urge to kick him in the ribs. She had a job to do.
Eva went into the apartment. There were stacks of crates everywhere, some piled right to the ceiling. She took out a small switchblade and prised one of them open - the crate was completely stacked with pistols. "It looks like I've found one of the Ballers' storehouses for armaments."
"Anything related to the girl?"
"Nothing so far." Eva looked around, shuffling a few of the crates to the side, looking in every nook and cranny. Seeing that there was nothing else, she moved on.
The bedroom was surprisingly bare. Aside from the computer and the bed, there wasn't much to it. Not even a safe or locker of any kind, to the point where Eva wondered if they got a bogus report. It certainly wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last, but at least they knew the location of one of the gang's little storehouses. Not that it mattered, anyway. They probably had dozens, if not more, scattered throughout the city, in all sorts of places.
After combing through the room for a minute, Eva opened the door to the bathroom.
"Well, fuck me." She muttered. Despite what she thought she would find, the bathroom was a complete mess. Hardware, old wires and chips were strewn all over the floor, and there was an empty case for a computer hard drive. Someone was a little paranoid, weren't they?
Eva spied a pocket secretary sticking out from below the faucet. She picked it up, rubbing her chin thoughtfully before putting it in her hoodie. "Looks like that's..."
"Commander! Eyes up, I'm seeing four, five gangsters running down the hallway fast!"
"Fuck." Eva leapt into action, sprinting through the bedroom before jolting back. She had underestimated the time she had as the gangsters ran into the living room, their muzzles flashing as they opened fire.
She quickly returned fire with her pistol, though she knew she wouldn't be able to aim properly without sticking her head out at least a bit. Eva attempted to inch forward before leaning back again as the doorway splintered and bullets whistled through the spot where her head was just a split second ago.
"Goddamnit Haas, I'm stuck. Give em something to think about, will you?"
"Gotcha."
The window in the living room shattered, the glass crumbling to the floor as the noisy report of a sniper rifle echoed through the apartment. Eva could hear a few screams and curses and a loud shuffling as the shots caused them to move back. "Nicely done."
"Thanks, comm -"
"AGHHH!"
Eva's face paled as a man screamed in the other room and the wet, squelching sound of a bullet impacting something not the wall or floor rang out.
She inched forward. The others had retreated, leaving their friend, another gangster, writhing on the ground in agony, a spout of blood drizzling onto the floor. "Haas! What the fuck are you doing?" Eva snarled through gritted teeth as she leapt into action. "I told you to scare them, not shoot them!"
"I'm sorry, commander, I..."
"FREEZE!"
Five red dots appeared on Eva's torso. She froze, like they said, knowing that at any time they could and would riddle her with hundreds of bullets. What the fuck are they doing here? And how the fuck did Haas not see them?!
"Step away from the victim, drop your weapons, and put your hands behind your head!"
"I'm a PI. This man's been wounded," Eva said urgently, complying with their orders. She dropped her stun gun and pistol onto the floor, putting her hands behind her head. "He needs desperate - "
"Shut it." The SWAT team filed through, spreading to cover the area. The lead officer made a quick motion with his hands, and Eva, recalling her signal training, nearly groaned at what it signified.
Another officer brought out handcuffs, twisting her arms behind her back and locking them, even as her mind was racing. What was SWAT doing here? How did they respond so quickly, if at all? And more importantly, why were they here? This wasn't gang territory, but this was close enough that any unwarranted action would lead to escalation. Whatever they were doing, it was risky. Was this connected to the kidnapping case?
As Eva was being lead out of the building and into a black van, there was one important thought at the front of her mind that exceeded all the others.
Well, this could have gone a lot better.
"Alison. It was Alison."
"Ooh, that sounds promising!"
"Shut it Daph. The commander's on stakeout."
"She is perfectly capable of multitasking. And besides you've been, what? Sitting around, twiddling your thumbs for the last hour? Thought you could use a little break!"
"How's the homeless life anyway, Jensen?"
"Pretty good. I've nearly made five bucks. Soon enough I'll have money to go buy my late night dinner."
"No second date?"
"It didn't work out. Incompatible personalities and all that."
"Aw, sweetie... why don't you come around after then? I'll make you some of my world famous nachos."
"Had your nachos before, Daph, and they're more like world infamous. I doubt the commander wants to be in the loo for an hour."
"My nachos are perfectly fine! I just had them last night, for your information!"
"No, you had a double cheeseburger combo and a coke."
"...Alright, that is super creepy. What, do you go through my trash or something?!"
"Oh please, I go through everyone's trash. It is sort of my gig." Eva frowned, then lowered her hand and adjusted her hood. "Pipe down the chatter," she murmured, "I see two guys, straight ahead. One's wearing a red jacket."
"Jensen," Klack commented dryly, "just because one of them is wearing a red jacket doesn't mean they're part of the Derelict Row Ballers."
"No, I recognise him." Eva stood, hunching her back and keeping her head low so she didn't meet the eyes of anyone as she walked past. The disguise was solid; Daphne had spent many hours aging the jacket and hoodie, making them look utterly worn and threadbare. In combination with the hand-me-down pants, gloves and a little bit of makeup, Eva was indistinguishable from any member of the homeless in Detroit.
But a good disguise was only half the equation. Eva had been on stakeout many times before and she knew that if she didn't get the mannerisms right it could be the difference between life and death.
And when you were chasing down a lead for the kidnapping of a young girl, you couldn't afford to spare anything in attention to detail.
As Eva moved closer, she could see that her earlier hunch was right. The second one had walked into the apartment building, but the man in the red jacket was standing outside, smoking a cigarette, apparently untroubled by the rain. He turned around, and though her face was convincingly hidden by both her disguise and the crowd Eva automatically moved out of his perception, hunching over a trashcan and pretending to rummage through it. In the split-second when they faced each other, however, Eva had gotten a good look at his face.
"It's Smoke," she muttered as she continued to rummage through the trashcan. Though the scar on his left cheek had faded, it was still marred by an ugly red line, and his blocky bone structure and body shape were recognisable to anyone who had seen him on the wanted lists and the nightly news. "I'd recognise that ugly face anywhere."
Smoke. One of the most infamous members of the Derelict Row Ballers. He was wanted for multiple accounts of homicide, arson, thievery, vandalism, you name it - and here he was, walking the streets like any other free man. It disgusted her.
"Got eyes on him commander. What's a thug like Smoke doing in a place like this?"
"Same reason we're here, no doubt." Eva answered. "This confirms the tip we have is good, at least. The Derelict Row Ballers are involved."
"For what?" Aria hissed, adding her voice to the conversation for the first time. "Are they - "
"I don't think so. Daughter of a wealthy businessman like that, prostitution would be a waste. A ransom? Hostage? None of this is making any sense so far. But I guess we'll find out." Eva said grimly.
Eva stayed in her position for the next minute or so, watching Smoke from out of the corner of her eye. As she finished her rummaging she shuffled forward, hunching her back and shivering, arms over her stomach like she was extremely ill. She had seen plenty of people out on the streets thanks to Neuropozyne, and they had a certain twitchiness about them that was easy to emulate.
A Neuropozyne case was always good for a disguise. Eva knew she didn't look perfectly like a member of the homeless, but the addicts were often middle class whites who got desperate and ran shit out of luck. And there were plenty of augmentations that weren't obvious, like eye or cranial implants, enough that Eva was sure she could pass a quick look over or a questioning by a passing officer. None of the cops in this district were clean, though, and she'd prefer if it didn't happen at all. There was always the rare possibility that one of them recognised her.
Smoke eventually finished his cigarette, tossing it into the gutter and walking inside the building. Eva started to lengthen her stride, slowly at first, until she reached the alley right beside the entrance. She counted silently in her head, waiting five minutes before entering.
Eva wasn't stopped as she entered, since there wasn't a guard - or if there was, he wasn't at the reception. The interior would have looked nice, she noted as she walked through, had it not been so run down, but that was what you got with places like this.
The apartment building was in an awkward district, sandwiched between gang territory and the "good" parts of Detroit. It was the reason it made a good location - close enough to their own territory that it wasn't difficult to access, and close enough to neutral territory so that it appeared legitimate. And in the past hour that Eva had been sitting, pretending to beg, only one other person had entered or exited the building.
She went up the stairs and ducked into the first floor, opening the door to the broom closet and stepping inside. Eva stripped off her oversized jacket and pulled her weapons out from underneath her hoodie: a stun gun with four darts and a 10mm with a standard magazine. Hopefully she wouldn't have to use the pistol, but better safe than sorry.
"Right, just like we went through." Eva repeated as she ducked out and crouched, going up the stairs silently. "Don't do anything rash. Only bail me out if it looks like I'm in trouble, and only shoot to get them to scramble for cover. Don't. Hit. Them."
"You do realise, commander, that what we're doing isn't exactly legal. I mean, we could get into a shitload of trouble for even doing this, let alone what my part entails."
Eva chuckled softly as she continued climbing the floors. "And I've never heard you protest."
"Just saying."
"Duly noted. If it goes well, we should be in and out, no problem at all." Eva narrowed her eyes as she came to the right floor. "Alright, let's do this."
The tenth floor was empty, like most of the building, but Eva knew this was the right floor. And as she peeked out from behind the doorway, she could see two Ballers on patrol, carrying pistols and dressed fully in gang colours and attire. They must have rented out this floor completely, or at least muscled in enough so that other people wouldn't.
There was a crackle of static in her ear. "I've moved positions. In place, commander."
Eva raised her weapon, took a deep breath, and peeked out again. There was a definite pattern to the way the two of them patrolled. One would walk down the hallway and back, the other stood otherwise silent, guarding the door, and occasionally walking away to check the other window. There was a small window of opportunity, here, but she would only get it once - if she screwed up, that was her cover blown completely.
As soon as the second guard moved away, Eva shifted into motion. She shuffled forward in the same crouch, her knees tensed until she got right behind the Baller, and lunged, threading her arms around his neck.
The Baller gasped, writhing wildly as Eva applied pressure, adjusting her arms so that they were right on top of an artery in his neck. She wasn't as burly as he was, but she didn't need to be, all she had to do was constrict the blood supply until he slept. She silently counted in her head as the gangster's thrashing began to weaken, but it wasn't as fast as she would have liked. Come on, come on, come on...
"Hey! Fucking get over here! We have an intruder!"
Shit! Eva twisted the man around and released her grip, stepping back before slamming him with several fast jabs to his neck, groin and eye. She didn't want to do it so noisily, but the decision had been taken from her - the other guard had apparently decided to come back early, and he was running forward, his weapon raised.
Except he was a fraction of a second too slow. Eva disabled the gangster with a final blow to his ears, hard enough that he would be out for a spell, and leapt to the floor, just as the other opened fire.
The bullets whistled over her head, kicking up splinters and dust as it punched through the wallpaper. Eva rolled into a crouch, whipping out her stun gun.
The gangster got lucky. He got her unprepared, and had time to line up his aim properly - now that she had changed positions he was too slow to move his gun, and there was a loud crack as the stun dart struck him, dropping him instantly. That was the problem with the stun gun, of course. It was non-lethal, but it was too damn noisy. If anybody in the floor wasn't alerted by the shouting and shooting - and Eva highly doubted that - the stun gun would have alerted them.
"Who's this fucker?" Smoke was so loud Eva could hear the thudding of his footsteps as he approached. "You're fucking dead, you hear me?!"
Eva had barely enough time to get behind the corner before Smoke kicked down the door and let loose with a shotgun, the roar of the weapon loud enough to make her ears ring. She switched to her pistol and rested the barrel on the corner, firing off a few shots in an attempt to make him hide, but Smoke was undeterred - he continued firing, screaming off insults as he rapidly approached.
"You've fucked with the wrong crew! The Derelict Row Ballers are gonna get you, you fucker! Your whole family is dead! Your fucking pet is dead!"
Take a chill pill, Eva thought, counting the shots in her head.
"- you and everyone you loved, dead! Who the fuck are you working for? Those goddamn robots? That fucking dipshit hacker? You are - "
Crack!
And Smoke, one of the most fearsome gang members of the Derelict Row Ballers, wanted for multiple homicide, first-degree murder, arson, and just about every major gang-related crime you could think of, went down like a light. Eva stepped over him, kicking his shotgun away in case he got up again. The stun gun would have him out completely for a while, but she didn't want to take any chances. She got lucky, for some reason. The man was inexplicably enraged. She resisted the urge to kick him in the ribs. She had a job to do.
Eva went into the apartment. There were stacks of crates everywhere, some piled right to the ceiling. She took out a small switchblade and prised one of them open - the crate was completely stacked with pistols. "It looks like I've found one of the Ballers' storehouses for armaments."
"Anything related to the girl?"
"Nothing so far." Eva looked around, shuffling a few of the crates to the side, looking in every nook and cranny. Seeing that there was nothing else, she moved on.
The bedroom was surprisingly bare. Aside from the computer and the bed, there wasn't much to it. Not even a safe or locker of any kind, to the point where Eva wondered if they got a bogus report. It certainly wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last, but at least they knew the location of one of the gang's little storehouses. Not that it mattered, anyway. They probably had dozens, if not more, scattered throughout the city, in all sorts of places.
After combing through the room for a minute, Eva opened the door to the bathroom.
"Well, fuck me." She muttered. Despite what she thought she would find, the bathroom was a complete mess. Hardware, old wires and chips were strewn all over the floor, and there was an empty case for a computer hard drive. Someone was a little paranoid, weren't they?
Eva spied a pocket secretary sticking out from below the faucet. She picked it up, rubbing her chin thoughtfully before putting it in her hoodie. "Looks like that's..."
"Commander! Eyes up, I'm seeing four, five gangsters running down the hallway fast!"
"Fuck." Eva leapt into action, sprinting through the bedroom before jolting back. She had underestimated the time she had as the gangsters ran into the living room, their muzzles flashing as they opened fire.
She quickly returned fire with her pistol, though she knew she wouldn't be able to aim properly without sticking her head out at least a bit. Eva attempted to inch forward before leaning back again as the doorway splintered and bullets whistled through the spot where her head was just a split second ago.
"Goddamnit Haas, I'm stuck. Give em something to think about, will you?"
"Gotcha."
The window in the living room shattered, the glass crumbling to the floor as the noisy report of a sniper rifle echoed through the apartment. Eva could hear a few screams and curses and a loud shuffling as the shots caused them to move back. "Nicely done."
"Thanks, comm -"
"AGHHH!"
Eva's face paled as a man screamed in the other room and the wet, squelching sound of a bullet impacting something not the wall or floor rang out.
She inched forward. The others had retreated, leaving their friend, another gangster, writhing on the ground in agony, a spout of blood drizzling onto the floor. "Haas! What the fuck are you doing?" Eva snarled through gritted teeth as she leapt into action. "I told you to scare them, not shoot them!"
"I'm sorry, commander, I..."
"FREEZE!"
Five red dots appeared on Eva's torso. She froze, like they said, knowing that at any time they could and would riddle her with hundreds of bullets. What the fuck are they doing here? And how the fuck did Haas not see them?!
"Step away from the victim, drop your weapons, and put your hands behind your head!"
"I'm a PI. This man's been wounded," Eva said urgently, complying with their orders. She dropped her stun gun and pistol onto the floor, putting her hands behind her head. "He needs desperate - "
"Shut it." The SWAT team filed through, spreading to cover the area. The lead officer made a quick motion with his hands, and Eva, recalling her signal training, nearly groaned at what it signified.
Another officer brought out handcuffs, twisting her arms behind her back and locking them, even as her mind was racing. What was SWAT doing here? How did they respond so quickly, if at all? And more importantly, why were they here? This wasn't gang territory, but this was close enough that any unwarranted action would lead to escalation. Whatever they were doing, it was risky. Was this connected to the kidnapping case?
As Eva was being lead out of the building and into a black van, there was one important thought at the front of her mind that exceeded all the others.
Well, this could have gone a lot better.
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They had changed the floor of the interrogation room, Eva noted as she sat, her wrists handcuffed behind her. She was flexible enough that she could slip her wrists under and out beneath her legs, but she had a feeling that wouldn't help her situation at all. Besides, it wasn't like she was attempting to escape. She had done this song and dance plenty of times.
The door opened and a young man in his early twenties came in, sitting down on the other side of the table. He was dressed in SWAT armour, glaring at her balefully. He didn't say anything, gripping a folder in his hand before slamming it down onto the table with a loud slap.
"So, lousy night huh?" Eva couldn't help but ask dryly. It wasn't like she was getting out of this again, so might as well see how deep she could dig her hole. Maybe Klack or Daph could get her out, maybe on bail or something, but she doubted it. Not after the gross fuckup in reconaissance they did.
"Yeah, pretty lousy." He growled. "You wanna know why?"
"Not really. But I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway." She earned herself another glare, but at this point, Eva didn't really care anymore. The worse thing that could happen right now wasn't whatever sentence they were going to slap on her - instead, it was having to sit and listen to this punk tell her what she did wrong in silence.
"That's right. I have four files of paperwork to do because some stupid bitch thought that they could muscle in on a SWAT operation." The man sneered.
"Paperwork, how terrible," Eva groaned dramatically. "This was a complete tragedy in the making."
"And you're lucky it wasn't! One of those punks you had a shootout with nearly died. Bullet missed a vital artery by inches. You didn't think that there wouldn't be other gangs watching?"
He really thinks that Haas was a gangster? Eva barely resisted the urge to burst into laughter. "Of course there would be," she sneered. "I mean, a SWAT operation isn't likely to attract any attention. None at all. It's exactly because some 'stupid bitch' decided to go snooping around because the rest of you lot were too powerless to do anything until the right moment, no?"
"Shut the fuck up!" He roared, slamming his hand down on the table. Eva nearly jumped in surprise. He certainly didn't have a good grip on his temper, unless it was all an act - except his red face told her otherwise. She knew rage, had seen it in a lot of faces, and that was how she knew he really was angry at this moment. "You are in so much fucking trouble, you know that, right?"
"Thought I would be. It's not exactly the first time." Eva answered.
"Yeah, I know that." He opened the folder. "I have your file right here: Eva Jensen, adopted 1993, real parents unknown. Graduated with a bachelor's degree in criminology before joining DPD. Volunteered for SWAT - " he paused, the smirk on his face growing, " - was denied entrance. Moved into detective work before leaving and becoming a private investigator. Three charges of obstruction of justice, one charge of witness tampering, two charges of spoliation of evidence... it's a wonder you've been able to keep out of jail this long."
Eva didn't look too impressed. "I'd say 'good job', but I learnt to read at four. Maybe you should seriously start catching up. I mean the regulations at SWAT are a lot looser than they were in my day, but it pays to - "
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw your skinny little ass in jail," the SWAT member growled. "You've been a thorn in our side for a long while. You and that little agency of yours."
"Card's in my jacket pocket," Eva said offhandedly. "My real jacket, not this hobo one. You should look us up sometime - hey, I just realised, I made five bucks for doing nothing!" She added in false excitement. "That basically makes me a SWAT member, doesn't it?"
The man could do nothing except glare at her continuously. It was starting to get annoying. He picked up his pen and added a note to the file. "I think we can add 'contempt of law enforcement' to that rap sheet of yours."
"Be my guest." Eva rolled her eyes. "Not like it's important in the long run. It'll just make me more attractive to prospective clients."
He looked at her incredulously. "How the fuck do you figure that, dumb shit?"
Eva looked at him coldly. "First off. Never call me 'dumb shit' again, dumb shit. I've been on the force far longer than you have and I can tell you that I'm not impressed with this little 'interrogation'."
"Excuse m - "
"Excuse you. Look at you. How the fuck did you ever make SWAT officer? You're a kid, a dumb little shrimp who thinks he's seen every bad thing the city has to offer when you've barely seen ten percent of it." Eva hissed. "Well let me tell you something. Call it 'advice', from vet to rookie: You've got a lot of shaping up to do. I bet you've never even had to shoot to kill yet, right?"
The barest flicker of hesitation appeared in his eyes, before it was suddenly gone and replaced by the rage. That didn't matter. Eva had seen it. "Why you - "
"And in a city like Detroit it's gonna happen, sooner or later." Eva continued. "So fuck off, let me out of here and do my job, away from your stupid red tape and corrupt little bureaucrats. You've trampled on plenty of people in your so-called 'pursuit of justice', and that's one of the reasons why I became a PI in the first place. Grow the fuck up. Or transfer out and go play cowboys and indians in some other city. Because if not..." her voice lowered. "You're about to get a lot of men under your command killed."
He hesitated, for longer than a split second before growing silent and settling into another glare. Eva knew that was enough. She had already won, as if that was ever in doubt.
His phone beeped, and he glanced at the text he received. Giving her one last glare he closed the file, stood up, and left.
A few minutes later, the door opened again and a familiar face walked into the room. "Next time, go a little easier with the tongue-lashing, will ya?" He said as he took out some keys, going behind her and unlocking the handcuffs.
Eva snorted. "Like you did with me?"
Taylor looked older. Not physically older, even though it looked like he had gained a few gray hairs. But mentally. There was a burden on his shoulders. It was in the way he walked, the way he looked and stepped. He sat down on the other side of the table and Eva realised sadly that it wasn't just physical distance between them.
"I guess I did go a little rough on you, squirt." Taylor chuckled.
"How is everyone?" Eva couldn't help but ask.
"It's a different place these days. Morris, Jonathan, Quinn - they've all left. Dunno what they're doing now, hopefully something other than this. The new kids are pretty fresh-faced. Reminds me of us, back in the day."
"It wasn't too long ago, you know."
"It certainly feels long." Taylor sighed, slipping on his glasses and looking at the report in his hand. "So what is it this time? Blew your stakeout? 'Accidentally' found yourself in a gang hideout?"
"Chasing a lead. Kidnapping case. Girl, sixteen years old."
"Sold into prostitution, you think?"
"No. But the gangs are definitely mixed up in it."
Taylor sighed again. "Kidnappings are always a messy business. Did you get your lead?"
"Should be on that pocket secretary. They've probably got it confiscated." Eva answered.
Taylor laughed. "Should? Didn't think my sharpest detective would end up growing soft, away from the force."
Eva shrugged, rubbing her wrists unconsciously. "Out there, without any backup or any red tapes to fall back on - you learn to be more cautious. Can't just go running and gunning everywhere."
"And then how'd you end up here?"
"Again..." Eva said, amused, "shouldn't go running and gunning. Sort of just happened."
The two veterans laughed, stories of cases gone wrong running through their heads. It felt bizarre, to Eva at least, that those times were the 'good old days' now. She wasn't even that old. Certainly not as old as Taylor, and she didn't think anyone had the guts to ask what age he was.
"Well, I'm prepared to let you off with just a slap on the wrist. I mean, it nearly got fucked up fast - but you've handed us Smoke on a silver platter, as well as plenty of weapons and ammo. From there, it should be easy enough to start tracing the rest of their storehouses." Taylor said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "You don't have any idea who the shooter was, do ya?"
"None at all." Eva said with a straight face.
"Good. Whoever he was, he got lucky."
"Yeah, I heard. Bullet missed a vital artery or something." Haas will definitely be pleased to hear that. After I'm finished chewing him out.
"That's right." Taylor shook his head. "...goddamnit squirt, when did we ever start thinking of our careers as the 'good old days'?"
Eva burst out laughing, relieved that she wasn't the only one.
"What's your agency called, anyway? I never asked."
"Nyx Investigations. We're a small outfit at the moment, but we've been doing good. Hopefully we can start expanding, maybe add a few more to the active roster." Eva replied.
"Good to hear, good to hear." Taylor murmured. "Word through the department was that you hired Wayne Haas."
Eva stiffened. "I have. Got anything to say about it?" She challenged.
"Hey, hey..." Taylor raised his hands placatingly. "I'm not judging. I don't agree with what the DPD did either, throwing him out to the sharks like that. It was a fucked up situation all around, and command shouldn't have forced him into doing something he wasn't comfortable with. From my perspective, you've done the right thing, kid."
Eva looked at him for a moment before nodding. "Thanks, boss."
Taylor scribbled something on the report. "Well, that's all she wrote. I'll mark you off and let you go. How does that sound?"
"Good." Eva said, pleased. "I have a lot of work to do."
This kidnapping case, she had a feeling, was only going to get a lot more complicated here on out.
The door opened and a young man in his early twenties came in, sitting down on the other side of the table. He was dressed in SWAT armour, glaring at her balefully. He didn't say anything, gripping a folder in his hand before slamming it down onto the table with a loud slap.
"So, lousy night huh?" Eva couldn't help but ask dryly. It wasn't like she was getting out of this again, so might as well see how deep she could dig her hole. Maybe Klack or Daph could get her out, maybe on bail or something, but she doubted it. Not after the gross fuckup in reconaissance they did.
"Yeah, pretty lousy." He growled. "You wanna know why?"
"Not really. But I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway." She earned herself another glare, but at this point, Eva didn't really care anymore. The worse thing that could happen right now wasn't whatever sentence they were going to slap on her - instead, it was having to sit and listen to this punk tell her what she did wrong in silence.
"That's right. I have four files of paperwork to do because some stupid bitch thought that they could muscle in on a SWAT operation." The man sneered.
"Paperwork, how terrible," Eva groaned dramatically. "This was a complete tragedy in the making."
"And you're lucky it wasn't! One of those punks you had a shootout with nearly died. Bullet missed a vital artery by inches. You didn't think that there wouldn't be other gangs watching?"
He really thinks that Haas was a gangster? Eva barely resisted the urge to burst into laughter. "Of course there would be," she sneered. "I mean, a SWAT operation isn't likely to attract any attention. None at all. It's exactly because some 'stupid bitch' decided to go snooping around because the rest of you lot were too powerless to do anything until the right moment, no?"
"Shut the fuck up!" He roared, slamming his hand down on the table. Eva nearly jumped in surprise. He certainly didn't have a good grip on his temper, unless it was all an act - except his red face told her otherwise. She knew rage, had seen it in a lot of faces, and that was how she knew he really was angry at this moment. "You are in so much fucking trouble, you know that, right?"
"Thought I would be. It's not exactly the first time." Eva answered.
"Yeah, I know that." He opened the folder. "I have your file right here: Eva Jensen, adopted 1993, real parents unknown. Graduated with a bachelor's degree in criminology before joining DPD. Volunteered for SWAT - " he paused, the smirk on his face growing, " - was denied entrance. Moved into detective work before leaving and becoming a private investigator. Three charges of obstruction of justice, one charge of witness tampering, two charges of spoliation of evidence... it's a wonder you've been able to keep out of jail this long."
Eva didn't look too impressed. "I'd say 'good job', but I learnt to read at four. Maybe you should seriously start catching up. I mean the regulations at SWAT are a lot looser than they were in my day, but it pays to - "
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw your skinny little ass in jail," the SWAT member growled. "You've been a thorn in our side for a long while. You and that little agency of yours."
"Card's in my jacket pocket," Eva said offhandedly. "My real jacket, not this hobo one. You should look us up sometime - hey, I just realised, I made five bucks for doing nothing!" She added in false excitement. "That basically makes me a SWAT member, doesn't it?"
The man could do nothing except glare at her continuously. It was starting to get annoying. He picked up his pen and added a note to the file. "I think we can add 'contempt of law enforcement' to that rap sheet of yours."
"Be my guest." Eva rolled her eyes. "Not like it's important in the long run. It'll just make me more attractive to prospective clients."
He looked at her incredulously. "How the fuck do you figure that, dumb shit?"
Eva looked at him coldly. "First off. Never call me 'dumb shit' again, dumb shit. I've been on the force far longer than you have and I can tell you that I'm not impressed with this little 'interrogation'."
"Excuse m - "
"Excuse you. Look at you. How the fuck did you ever make SWAT officer? You're a kid, a dumb little shrimp who thinks he's seen every bad thing the city has to offer when you've barely seen ten percent of it." Eva hissed. "Well let me tell you something. Call it 'advice', from vet to rookie: You've got a lot of shaping up to do. I bet you've never even had to shoot to kill yet, right?"
The barest flicker of hesitation appeared in his eyes, before it was suddenly gone and replaced by the rage. That didn't matter. Eva had seen it. "Why you - "
"And in a city like Detroit it's gonna happen, sooner or later." Eva continued. "So fuck off, let me out of here and do my job, away from your stupid red tape and corrupt little bureaucrats. You've trampled on plenty of people in your so-called 'pursuit of justice', and that's one of the reasons why I became a PI in the first place. Grow the fuck up. Or transfer out and go play cowboys and indians in some other city. Because if not..." her voice lowered. "You're about to get a lot of men under your command killed."
He hesitated, for longer than a split second before growing silent and settling into another glare. Eva knew that was enough. She had already won, as if that was ever in doubt.
His phone beeped, and he glanced at the text he received. Giving her one last glare he closed the file, stood up, and left.
A few minutes later, the door opened again and a familiar face walked into the room. "Next time, go a little easier with the tongue-lashing, will ya?" He said as he took out some keys, going behind her and unlocking the handcuffs.
Eva snorted. "Like you did with me?"
Taylor looked older. Not physically older, even though it looked like he had gained a few gray hairs. But mentally. There was a burden on his shoulders. It was in the way he walked, the way he looked and stepped. He sat down on the other side of the table and Eva realised sadly that it wasn't just physical distance between them.
"I guess I did go a little rough on you, squirt." Taylor chuckled.
"How is everyone?" Eva couldn't help but ask.
"It's a different place these days. Morris, Jonathan, Quinn - they've all left. Dunno what they're doing now, hopefully something other than this. The new kids are pretty fresh-faced. Reminds me of us, back in the day."
"It wasn't too long ago, you know."
"It certainly feels long." Taylor sighed, slipping on his glasses and looking at the report in his hand. "So what is it this time? Blew your stakeout? 'Accidentally' found yourself in a gang hideout?"
"Chasing a lead. Kidnapping case. Girl, sixteen years old."
"Sold into prostitution, you think?"
"No. But the gangs are definitely mixed up in it."
Taylor sighed again. "Kidnappings are always a messy business. Did you get your lead?"
"Should be on that pocket secretary. They've probably got it confiscated." Eva answered.
Taylor laughed. "Should? Didn't think my sharpest detective would end up growing soft, away from the force."
Eva shrugged, rubbing her wrists unconsciously. "Out there, without any backup or any red tapes to fall back on - you learn to be more cautious. Can't just go running and gunning everywhere."
"And then how'd you end up here?"
"Again..." Eva said, amused, "shouldn't go running and gunning. Sort of just happened."
The two veterans laughed, stories of cases gone wrong running through their heads. It felt bizarre, to Eva at least, that those times were the 'good old days' now. She wasn't even that old. Certainly not as old as Taylor, and she didn't think anyone had the guts to ask what age he was.
"Well, I'm prepared to let you off with just a slap on the wrist. I mean, it nearly got fucked up fast - but you've handed us Smoke on a silver platter, as well as plenty of weapons and ammo. From there, it should be easy enough to start tracing the rest of their storehouses." Taylor said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "You don't have any idea who the shooter was, do ya?"
"None at all." Eva said with a straight face.
"Good. Whoever he was, he got lucky."
"Yeah, I heard. Bullet missed a vital artery or something." Haas will definitely be pleased to hear that. After I'm finished chewing him out.
"That's right." Taylor shook his head. "...goddamnit squirt, when did we ever start thinking of our careers as the 'good old days'?"
Eva burst out laughing, relieved that she wasn't the only one.
"What's your agency called, anyway? I never asked."
"Nyx Investigations. We're a small outfit at the moment, but we've been doing good. Hopefully we can start expanding, maybe add a few more to the active roster." Eva replied.
"Good to hear, good to hear." Taylor murmured. "Word through the department was that you hired Wayne Haas."
Eva stiffened. "I have. Got anything to say about it?" She challenged.
"Hey, hey..." Taylor raised his hands placatingly. "I'm not judging. I don't agree with what the DPD did either, throwing him out to the sharks like that. It was a fucked up situation all around, and command shouldn't have forced him into doing something he wasn't comfortable with. From my perspective, you've done the right thing, kid."
Eva looked at him for a moment before nodding. "Thanks, boss."
Taylor scribbled something on the report. "Well, that's all she wrote. I'll mark you off and let you go. How does that sound?"
"Good." Eva said, pleased. "I have a lot of work to do."
This kidnapping case, she had a feeling, was only going to get a lot more complicated here on out.
You have my attention.
I've been binging on Wormfic recently, so now I expect this to be a female name.
I've been binging on Wormfic recently, so now I expect this to be a female name.
You aren't the only one.
So genderbent Adam post-DX:HR?
So genderbent Adam post-DX:HR?
I think it's pre-canon.
Andrew5073
Thinks too much
Well, this looks interesting. Assuming that we're connecting to the same conspiracy as the game, it'll be interesting to see how we get there without Sarif Industries being involved in the same way (if we're starting pre-canon with some setting changes, it's unlikely that we're looking at a retread of the original plot). Finding information in the FEMA base? Encountering the 'luddite' hacker? The 'emergency augmentation upgrade'? Or maybe something never mentioned in the game, but which makes sense given the known elements?
Very quick and short snippet.
-
Hypothetical question, Eva thought as she exited the police station. How do you get back home dressed like a hobo, with no weapons or identification, no car or car keys, and with only five bucks in your pocket?
She walked to the corner of the street. There was a McDonald's just down the road, the favourite mid-shift lunch for lazy officers (and Detroit had plenty of those). It did a discounted special meal just for cops, fondly dubbed "the cop killer": Big Mac, cheeseburger, large fries, sundae and extra strong espresso. Eva tried it at the end of her first week as a beat cop, a sort of "official rite of passage" by the overweight veterans of the traffic and street patrol departments of the Detroit Police.
Eva didn't like it. Partly because the food had too much oil for her liking, even for fast food, and mostly because she was squished between two cops who tended to skip shaving days as well as showers, going by their memorable odour.
There weren't any cops in the restaurant as Eva walked into the woman's bathroom and vigorously washed the dirt and smears from her face. She checked herself in the mirror again - she looked presentable and like a normal person again, though she had to quash down the strong urge to try and find some foundation or blush. It wasn't exactly a good day for her skin, but as part of her disguise it was appropriate. It would also come in handy soon.
Eva walked out, pulling her hoody down and flattening her hair. She always cut it short, but in the tight space of the hoody it knotted annoyingly and she spent a full minute patting it down before implementing the next part of her plan. With the water drenching the tips, it would look like she had been waiting in the rain, which had stopped half an hour ago.
It would be a lot simpler to just find a payphone and ring Daphne or Aria and get them to come get her. But it would waste a lot of time as well. Not to mention Wayne had probably returned by now, and there was always a chance he would come pick her up out of a sense of personal frustration at having screwed up, and she just didn't want to deal with that right at this moment - especially not in a one-on-one situation, without any of the others backing her up. Wayne had progressed significantly, but Eva was betting that he was feeling extremely spooked right now.
Second hypothetical question, to get things out of the way: Is talking to yourself crazy or is it just me? And third one... Eva folded her arms over her chest protectively as she stood across the road, close to some of the old industrial buildings, holding the pocket secretary she obtained in her hand. She bit her lip and looked around wildly, as if waiting for somebody. How many people will go out of their way to help a woman looking lost in life?
The answer came quickly. Less than a minute after she began, a car pulled up beside her. Eva quickly scoped the vehicle, its interior and its driver out - well-maintained Toyota, a vehicle affordable by any members of the middle class, though it was preferred by some of the wealthy due to its fuel economy. Driver was African American, shaved, white shirt and black pants... most likely a businessman, coming home to a loving wife and family, because of the photo taped to the dashboard.
"Hey there." The man rolled down his window, and Eva, continuing the charade, pretended to step back fearfully. He raised his arm, and she could see that it was augmented - wealthy then. "Easy. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just wondering what you're doing waiting out here by yourself?"
"I'm..." Eva made sure to glance down after meeting his eyes only just long enough that she didn't appear rude. "Just waiting for my son. He was supposed to come pick me up a while ago."
The man's eyes saddened as he took in her clothes and her apparent age. Maybe he thought she was a former teenage mother, down on her luck years later. Eva was at that weird age berth where she could pretend to be a few years older or younger than she really was. "I see. How long ago was that supposed to be?"
Eva brushed her hair, drawing attention to how the strands dripped with water. "Not too long ago."
He hesitated. "No money or anything? The trains go twenty four seven."
"I only have five dollars." Eva bit her lip again.
"Can I offer you a ride, then?"
"It's okay. I wouldn't want to be any trouble, really."
"It's no trouble at all," the businessman reassured her. "Look. I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm pressuring you or anything, but... it's a bad neighbourhood. Wouldn't want you to get hurt."
"I think I'll be fine." Eva nodded. "There's a police station close by, and where I'm going isn't that far away." She told him the district name.
"Well, if you won't let me give you a ride, then here." The man rummaged in his glove compartment, offering her some coins. "That should be enough for a one way ticket there. Public transport's expensive these days. Back in my day five dollars would've covered half the city." He laughed.
Eva didn't know whether to be offended or flattered that he thought she was that young. "Thank you so much mister!" She said gratefully, taking the coins.
"It's okay. I completely understand, it does look a bit wrong on a person. But it's a weird time now, we've gotta help each other, normal people and robots alike." He laughed, waving his cybernetic arm around.
For the first time in this conversation Eva looked genuinely abashed. "No that's not... you don't think - "
"No, I wouldn't say so, you'd freak out a lot more if that was the reason. And no idiot would get in a car with a stranger, augmented or not. But just in case you did, just want to reassure that I'm still 100% human on the inside." He said solemnly. "Sorry if I sounded weird. I've gotten a lot of colourful comments over the past week. But it's my choice to get augmented, not theirs."
"I'm not one of those people." She said truthfully.
Yes, she had seen a lot of bad stuff in the force regarding augmentations. But power corrupted in anybody's hands. If she had the money, she wouldn't mind getting some of the cognitive implants for Michelle and had even stopped in a LIMB Clinic or two to ask about the prices. Unfortunately, in addition to the anti-rejection drug treatment, it was all well out of her price range, and she doubted that the rest of her business partners would look fondly on her for dipping into their collective pay - even if it was for her stepmother.
"That's good to hear then. Well, you take care now." He drove off, leaving her standing there quietly. She couldn't help but feel a bit guilty - emotional blackmail was one thing, but prejudice was something else.
Eva took the train ride in silence, using the opportunity to look over the contents of the pocket secretary. She read and re-read it over and over, meticulously poring over every possible implication, subtext, or hidden meaning.
As if a street gang was that complex. She was deluding herself. Oh, it was obvious. It was plainly written in the secretary. But she didn't believe it at first. Even though the words were there, written for all the world to see.
So that was why the first thing she did after getting back was stride into their temporary office and state calmly, "Call our client. Dealing with Purity First was not a part of our agreed contract."
-
Hypothetical question, Eva thought as she exited the police station. How do you get back home dressed like a hobo, with no weapons or identification, no car or car keys, and with only five bucks in your pocket?
She walked to the corner of the street. There was a McDonald's just down the road, the favourite mid-shift lunch for lazy officers (and Detroit had plenty of those). It did a discounted special meal just for cops, fondly dubbed "the cop killer": Big Mac, cheeseburger, large fries, sundae and extra strong espresso. Eva tried it at the end of her first week as a beat cop, a sort of "official rite of passage" by the overweight veterans of the traffic and street patrol departments of the Detroit Police.
Eva didn't like it. Partly because the food had too much oil for her liking, even for fast food, and mostly because she was squished between two cops who tended to skip shaving days as well as showers, going by their memorable odour.
There weren't any cops in the restaurant as Eva walked into the woman's bathroom and vigorously washed the dirt and smears from her face. She checked herself in the mirror again - she looked presentable and like a normal person again, though she had to quash down the strong urge to try and find some foundation or blush. It wasn't exactly a good day for her skin, but as part of her disguise it was appropriate. It would also come in handy soon.
Eva walked out, pulling her hoody down and flattening her hair. She always cut it short, but in the tight space of the hoody it knotted annoyingly and she spent a full minute patting it down before implementing the next part of her plan. With the water drenching the tips, it would look like she had been waiting in the rain, which had stopped half an hour ago.
It would be a lot simpler to just find a payphone and ring Daphne or Aria and get them to come get her. But it would waste a lot of time as well. Not to mention Wayne had probably returned by now, and there was always a chance he would come pick her up out of a sense of personal frustration at having screwed up, and she just didn't want to deal with that right at this moment - especially not in a one-on-one situation, without any of the others backing her up. Wayne had progressed significantly, but Eva was betting that he was feeling extremely spooked right now.
Second hypothetical question, to get things out of the way: Is talking to yourself crazy or is it just me? And third one... Eva folded her arms over her chest protectively as she stood across the road, close to some of the old industrial buildings, holding the pocket secretary she obtained in her hand. She bit her lip and looked around wildly, as if waiting for somebody. How many people will go out of their way to help a woman looking lost in life?
The answer came quickly. Less than a minute after she began, a car pulled up beside her. Eva quickly scoped the vehicle, its interior and its driver out - well-maintained Toyota, a vehicle affordable by any members of the middle class, though it was preferred by some of the wealthy due to its fuel economy. Driver was African American, shaved, white shirt and black pants... most likely a businessman, coming home to a loving wife and family, because of the photo taped to the dashboard.
"Hey there." The man rolled down his window, and Eva, continuing the charade, pretended to step back fearfully. He raised his arm, and she could see that it was augmented - wealthy then. "Easy. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just wondering what you're doing waiting out here by yourself?"
"I'm..." Eva made sure to glance down after meeting his eyes only just long enough that she didn't appear rude. "Just waiting for my son. He was supposed to come pick me up a while ago."
The man's eyes saddened as he took in her clothes and her apparent age. Maybe he thought she was a former teenage mother, down on her luck years later. Eva was at that weird age berth where she could pretend to be a few years older or younger than she really was. "I see. How long ago was that supposed to be?"
Eva brushed her hair, drawing attention to how the strands dripped with water. "Not too long ago."
He hesitated. "No money or anything? The trains go twenty four seven."
"I only have five dollars." Eva bit her lip again.
"Can I offer you a ride, then?"
"It's okay. I wouldn't want to be any trouble, really."
"It's no trouble at all," the businessman reassured her. "Look. I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm pressuring you or anything, but... it's a bad neighbourhood. Wouldn't want you to get hurt."
"I think I'll be fine." Eva nodded. "There's a police station close by, and where I'm going isn't that far away." She told him the district name.
"Well, if you won't let me give you a ride, then here." The man rummaged in his glove compartment, offering her some coins. "That should be enough for a one way ticket there. Public transport's expensive these days. Back in my day five dollars would've covered half the city." He laughed.
Eva didn't know whether to be offended or flattered that he thought she was that young. "Thank you so much mister!" She said gratefully, taking the coins.
"It's okay. I completely understand, it does look a bit wrong on a person. But it's a weird time now, we've gotta help each other, normal people and robots alike." He laughed, waving his cybernetic arm around.
For the first time in this conversation Eva looked genuinely abashed. "No that's not... you don't think - "
"No, I wouldn't say so, you'd freak out a lot more if that was the reason. And no idiot would get in a car with a stranger, augmented or not. But just in case you did, just want to reassure that I'm still 100% human on the inside." He said solemnly. "Sorry if I sounded weird. I've gotten a lot of colourful comments over the past week. But it's my choice to get augmented, not theirs."
"I'm not one of those people." She said truthfully.
Yes, she had seen a lot of bad stuff in the force regarding augmentations. But power corrupted in anybody's hands. If she had the money, she wouldn't mind getting some of the cognitive implants for Michelle and had even stopped in a LIMB Clinic or two to ask about the prices. Unfortunately, in addition to the anti-rejection drug treatment, it was all well out of her price range, and she doubted that the rest of her business partners would look fondly on her for dipping into their collective pay - even if it was for her stepmother.
"That's good to hear then. Well, you take care now." He drove off, leaving her standing there quietly. She couldn't help but feel a bit guilty - emotional blackmail was one thing, but prejudice was something else.
Eva took the train ride in silence, using the opportunity to look over the contents of the pocket secretary. She read and re-read it over and over, meticulously poring over every possible implication, subtext, or hidden meaning.
As if a street gang was that complex. She was deluding herself. Oh, it was obvious. It was plainly written in the secretary. But she didn't believe it at first. Even though the words were there, written for all the world to see.
So that was why the first thing she did after getting back was stride into their temporary office and state calmly, "Call our client. Dealing with Purity First was not a part of our agreed contract."
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Really like this concept- I recall some discussion on SB a while back about a genderbent Jensen, but what you've done here is far more interesting then what was suggested here- having her as a PI fits rather well with Human Revolution's 2027 Detroit.
In any case, lots of interesting Butterflies- Jensen was never SWAT, Haas went through something like Mexicantown without her involvement, and she's running a PI firm with at least 3 employees besides herself. Lot of neat stuff.
Purity First makes for an interesting vector to tie into the game plot; perhaps the parents of the victim work at Sarif?
Very interested to see where things go from here. Particularly curious if Jensen is going to renegotiate with her client and end up dealing with SI or whomever, or if she's just going to keep following the thread and see how deep the rabbit hole goes, maybe stumble across Sandoval's dirty little secret.
In any case, lots of interesting Butterflies- Jensen was never SWAT, Haas went through something like Mexicantown without her involvement, and she's running a PI firm with at least 3 employees besides herself. Lot of neat stuff.
Purity First makes for an interesting vector to tie into the game plot; perhaps the parents of the victim work at Sarif?
Very interested to see where things go from here. Particularly curious if Jensen is going to renegotiate with her client and end up dealing with SI or whomever, or if she's just going to keep following the thread and see how deep the rabbit hole goes, maybe stumble across Sandoval's dirty little secret.
For those of you guys that haven't seen the picture, this is the Eva Jensen fan art that sparked this:
