Disk Space

CIA Headquarters; 6:56 AM

Evan Smith was driving much too fast for the narrow Washington DC streets. His eyes were trained to the west, the building just illuminated by the rising sun.

…Police as well as FBI officials are saying that they have no leads on the break in at a federal warehouse last week that resulted in four law enforcement deaths and one other injury, though they are suspecting a thief known simply as Self, supposedly the best thief in the world, who has been selling top government secrets for the past ten years…There is nothing to suggest that anything of importance was stolen, but the CIA is rumored to be involved…

He snapped off the radio in irritation. The media was always latching onto CIA business; they seem to think that spies will draw listeners, or whatever. They just annoyed him, but maybe because that was now an official CIA agent. With his first official case. He would like to say that he was excited about his career finally moving forward but for the most part he was terrified. It was a hard thing to go from high school to college, from college to training, from training to working under a more experienced agent and then to suddenly have all safety nets torn out from under him. And his first case was going to be a challenge. Early in the morning, an agent had been murdered in his sixth floor office. The fun part: the assailant did not set off any alarms, and did not appear on any of the security cameras. And the most fun part, his personal favorite: A disk containing the new encryption software for all of the CIA personnel files was missing.

If this case wasn’t solved by five minutes ago, he could kiss his job goodbye. He had already received four cell phone calls from higher ups, informing him of the importance of finding the disk and if he didn’t, he should start getting nervous. Nervousness was an understatement; fear was better, horror was optimal.

Evan pulled up to the CIA building, tossing his car keys to an assistant as he had done a hundred times already before lightly jogging into the building and into the elevator. He drummed his fingers against the walls as he waited for the doors to open. When they did, Marie met him, a grim look on her face. Marie was a 30 year old agent who he had worked with before and would be helping him out a bit on this case. She handed him a file.

“I’m sure you’ve been informed several times of what happened, but I’m going to go over it again anyways,” She said as they began walking past the cubicles and towards the main offices. “Last night, around 2:30 AM according to the ME 38 year old agent Jensen Harrison had his throat slashed and his disk stole right from his E drive. The disk was the new encryption software for our employee files and it has already been put into place in 14 state side offices and 3 international offices. I don’t have to tell you how important it is we get this back before someone can crack the passwords and access all of our personnel files.” They ducked under the yellow crime scene tape, entering the office of the deceased. He was slumped over the keyboard, blood drenching the desk and gathering on the floor at his feet. “He was discovered at 5:30 by Agent Laura Macdonald. She’s waiting outside to give us her statement after we finish with the ME. So what have we got, Harold?” ‘Harold’ rose from examining the wound on the deceased neck, stretching.

“Well whoever did this certainly knew what they were doing. Most people, a.k.a civilians, think that when you slit someone’s throat you should tilt their head back like this,” He mimed a choke hold on the victim, gently exposing the dark wound. Evan’s stomach turned a little. “But what they don’t know is doing this actually give the victim a greater chance of living; the windpipe protects the major vessels from damage. Whoever slit this agent’s neck, they leaned him forward and very quickly drew the knife- straight edged, by the way- across the neck from right to left- meaning your perpetrator was a lefty- and effectively destroying his major blood vessels. He bled out in minutes, if not seconds. There was never a chance for him to cry out.” This was the first time the ME looked even a little sorry for the victim; Evan was still learning that state of professional apathy. “I’d say you’re looking for someone with military training; either an enemy agent or an inside job.”

“Thanks,” Marie said with a nod. She turned to exit the office when Harold called her back.

“If you’re going to talk to the CSI don’t bother, I did the evidence collection too.” He looked grim now. “Nothing. No fingerprints, no footprints, no trace. Whoever this is, they’re immaculate.” Marie nodded; her mouth set in a hard line and led Evan out to the cubicles.

“Well that’s helpful.” She said with a frustrated sigh. “Let’s interview the witnesses.”

First up, Laura Macdonald.

“Tell us everything you can, Laura.” Marie said, with the smallest bit of compassion. Her eyes revealed that she knew something more than she was letting on, but Evan had no idea what that could be. Marie’s eyes traveled ever so briefly to the woman’s left hand and Evan couldn’t help but notice a ring sparkling in just the right place. An engagement ring.

“You and Agent Harrison were engaged?” Evan pressed gently. Laura nodded.

“We were planning the wedding last night,” She said, a wistful look in her eyes. “We got into a stupid fight over the cake and it just escalated; he ended up leaving, coming to the office just so we could get a break from each other. When he didn’t come home, I assumed he had discovered a new part of the code and had stayed over. He’s done it before.” She cleared her throat. “I was concerned when I didn’t find him crashed on the couch this morning but I just thought that he was madder at me than I’d thought. Then I came to apologize and…” Evan nodded, taking his last note.

“I think we can piece it together from here.” He said. Marie patted Laura on the shoulder.

“Another agent will take your official statement in a minute. We’ll call you if we have any more questions.” Laura nodded, sitting back on the desk of the cubicle they were in, looking lost among the hustle and bustle of the crime scene. Marie led Evan straight to the center of the chaos. “Next we have the security guard on duty last night; Lawrence Reed.” Lawrence was a portly, older man who looked actually excited at the prospect of being involved in a major investigation. Evan knew the type; never made it into the FBI or Police Academy, relegated to protecting people who could protect themselves better than he could. Even agent’s worst nightmare, aside from, you know, death.

“Mr. Reed?” Evan asked, making a point to look as serious and professional as he could. Lawrence jumped to his feet, standing practically at attention.

“Yes sir. What can I do for you, agents? I just want to be as helpful as a possible can. Just say the word.” Evan inwardly grimaced. He could already feel Marie’s chastising glare on the back of his neck. She was always making him interact more with the other agents, make ‘friends’. Sorry, but Evan was already too jaded to trust other people who worked at this office.

“I just need you to tell me exactly what you saw last night.” Evan said.

“Well, I didn’t see much, agents, but I guess that’s the whole problem here.” He shook his head, even as a grin was pushing its way out of his carefully controlled features. Or at least what he thought was carefully controlled. “Whoever killed Agent Harrison didn’t appear on any security cameras within the last eight hours before the murder. Furthermore they didn’t trip any alarms and I doubt this place can be hacked into. There was one thing; a door was left open around seven o’clock last night. It was just the emergency exit onto the roof. But I was watching that most of the night, no one slipped past my notice, I assure you.” Evan nodded, making a note about the emergency exit door. “I’ve been…”

“Thank you Mr. Reed, we’ll call you if we have any questions.” Evan flicked his notebook shut and walked quickly in the opposite direction, even though he really didn’t know where he was going. He heard Marie give Mr. Reed a friendlier farewell and chase after him.

“That was rude.” She said indignantly. “He was just being…enthusiastic.” Evan rolled his eyes.

“He was being annoying.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that he was helping us out,” She chastised. “And that our next witness is in the complete opposite direction.” Evan turned on his heel and followed her over to Peter McCarthy, the janitor who worked last night. He also stood as they approached, though it was more of a sign of respect than a sign of enthusiasm.

“Before either of you start, I have a confession to make.” Evan’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t going to be this easy, was it? “I was the one who opened the emergency exit on the roof. I just need a cigarette. I apologize and will accept any punishment given.” Evan’s hope diminished a bit. His only lead, taken care of. “I am so sorry, I just assumed that it was being watched so no one could sneak in.”

“It’s okay Mr. McCarthy, we don’t think that the killer entered from there.” Evan said. He was currently torn between being convinced that it was an inside job and that the killer someone only entered the victim’s office. His mind almost began to wander to thoughts of windows before he made himself focus. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“No sir, I don’t think so. I was washing the floors two stories down from 1 to 4 am last night. I definitely didn’t see anything odd down there.”

“Thank you.” Evan said, looking to Marie. She nodded to Peter and they walked away from the janitor.

“This is our last witness,” Marie said. “Though the appropriate word would be more along the lines of ‘suspect’.” Evan was surprised at this.

“Really, Marie. I didn’t think you would come into an interview so biased.” He admonished.

“He’s not a suspect in this investigation, at least to yet. He’s suspected of being a double agent.” Evan raised his eyebrows at her.

“Really. This does cast a different light on the conversation.”

“Just think of all that he could do with that disk.” If this last witness was really a double agent, he could be stealing the disk for an enemy country, or proving his usefulness to that same enemy. It was their only lead, and Evan allowed himself a spark of hope

The suspect was Seth Griffin. He worked five offices down from the victim and also pulled an all nighter last night. He looked slightly nervous as the agents approached him, as if he knew he was their only serious suspect.

“Anything I can do to help.” He said, just as the got within auditory range. Evan nodded.

“What were you dong last night around the time of the murder?”

“I was actually catching a little shut eye on the couch in my office. I had been working all day and most of the night on this new surveillance project, that I apologize, but I can’t tell you about. I didn’t notice much about the surroundings, I was thoroughly asleep. I can tell you that I heard something like a popping noise sometime, though I’m not sure exactly what time that would be. I thought it was nothing, or else in my own head, so I didn’t think much of it.” Evan nodded, but Marie was staring him down skeptically.

“Are you sure no one can corroborate your story?” Seth now looked slightly angry.

“Okay, I know what this is about. Don’t think I haven’t been informed about the internal investigation involving me. But I swear I’m not a double agent and I didn’t murder Jensen Harrison. No one can account for my actions, but I assure you, I will cooperate at much as you need me to and you won't find any evidence to link my to the crimes.” Marie grew several inches, and though she was shorter than Seth, stared him down.

“ I don’ t know about either of those things but you can rest assure that you suspicion in this investigation will be alerted to internal affairs and I will personally search for every bit of evidence I can.” It was now Marie’s turn to storm off and Evan to mumble apologies and farewells. He followed her back to the crime scene where she was now accosting the lead CSI.

“So, what the hell was that?” He asked Marie.

“Nothing. Double agents just piss the hell out of me.” She sighed. “You know how it is.” But Evan had stopped listening. He had noticed something odd about the window, remembering his theory from earlier. The killer only entered the victim’s office. There was an odd glare to the largest pane of the window. He walked over to it, pulling on plastic gloves as he went, and popped the pane directly out of the frame. He gave the glass to a CSI who was looking at him incredulously. Evan stuck his head out the window, examining the walls. “What is it?”

“I don’t know if Seth Griffin is a double agent or not.” He said, pulling a cord from the ivy next to the glass. “But I don’t think he is our killer.” He showed Marie the cord. “This is pointing straight at the ground, all the way down. I guess Seth could have used it to move between the two offices but then it would be horizontal or, if he cut it, it wouldn’t reach all the way to the ground.” He bounced the rope, showing how the ripple moved all the way down the cord until it flicked just a ground level.” Marie pulled back into the window, sighing in frustration.

“So we’ve just interviewed three people, none of whom fit for the crime. Great just great.” Evan pulled his head inside and abruptly left the office, heading for the emergency exit door that had been their only clue for a good five minutes.

“Where are we going?” Marie trotted to keep up.

“I like to think on the roof.” Evan said as he trotted up the stairs.

Washington was just coming to life. Rush hour traffic was in full swing and the sun was beginning its slow climb to noon. Evan took a deep breath and leaned over the waist high cement wall.

“Any ideas popping up?” Marie asked. Most people would find this annoying. But Evan didn’t. That was why he valued partners so much, especially Marie. She would always be willing to let him talk things out with her, and she knew that it was the best way for him to solve the case. Evan took another cleansing breath.

“We have several suspects, all with at least one problem to their suspicion. One, is Laura MacDonald. She could have been playing down the fight they had last night to remove any motives she might have. But if she had killed him she would have simply used her password and key card to enter the building and think of a reason to explain that, rather than going through all the trouble of planting a rope and scaling the building in the dead of night. The security guard, is actually one of the better suspects. Though he ahs not motive, he has the perfect opportunity to fudge the tapes. He might have also done that for an accomplice. But the discovery of the rope outside the agent’s office proves what I’ve thought ever since I heard that this intruder didn’t appear on security tapes. I knew that it was either an inside job or the kill bypassed the security camera by scaling the wall and only entering the one room. That also leads us to Seth Griffin. The inside job, accused of being a double agent already. IT would have been easy for Seth to kill Harrison, especially if he arrived here early in the morning. We were only looking for entrances in the few hours before the murder. He had the perfect opportunity to kill him, though we are still investigating the motive. There are two more suspects one of whom I’m going to dismiss right now. The janitor. He didn’t have the skill or the knowledge to murder the victim; he’s the son of the oldest janitor here, a very loyal man who is one of our best security advisors as well. He was telling me just the other day that he son had never had any interest in law enforcement or the military and whoever killed Harrison knew enough to tilt his head forward when he was slitting his throat.”

“What about the last suspect? That’s everybody who we interviewed.”

“You’re forgetting about the outside job. This very well could be an enemy agent who is skilled and smart enough to break into our offices and steal the disk. This outside job has the perfect motive, and opportunity, because of the rope found outside the office and the fact that even the CIA rotates camera views on the security monitors, as well as not watching anything above the third floor. If this outside agent was fast enough, he could very well time the beginning of his ascent with the rotation of the camera and make it past the third floor in the six minutes before the camera turns back to him.” Evan’s eyes narrowed as he watched the people swarm on the streets below, wondering if his perpetrator was among them. A young woman with nearly black hair glanced up at him, but no one else took any notice of the faceless building to their left “The one this about this outside job is I don’t think this is an enemy agent.” Marie raised her right eyebrow at him.

“We’re not talking about an inside job again. Because that wouldn’t be an outside job, it would just be an inside job.” Evan shook his head.

“No, I’m talking about an independent agent.” Marie nodded, the situation clarified.

“Self.” Evan nodded

“James was looking over the file last week, before, you know the shooting.” He cleared his throat. “It seemed to fit Self’s other thefts. He slits the victim’s throat with military like precision and his mode of entrance is very odd, similar to scaling three flights in less than six minutes.”

“Her.” Marie said suddenly.

“Her. You said ‘he’. Self is a woman. I was part of the group that cornered her in Baltimore. I can certainly attest to her skill; she scaled a nine foot fence like she was a ten year old boy climbing a tree. I think she would be capable of the three floor jump in six minutes.” Evan nodded.

“I can’t be certain yet, but my gut tells me she’s our best bet.” Evan sighed. “We’ve got some other things to finish with CSI, right? And I want to pull everything I can about Self, lets get back down there.” He rose to go, heading towards the stairwell.

“Wait,” Marie said, unmoving. “Last week, I just wanted to say, sorry and if you need anything come talk to me. I know how important it is for you to talk about things.” Evan laughed grimly.

“Strangely enough, I have nothing to say about his one.”

“Come on,” Marie said, a sly, sympathetic smile growing on her lips, though her eyes still were pitiful. “You have to say something. Keeping things bottled up isn’t the answer.”

“What am I supposed to say?” Evan felt something that felt like fury build up inside him. “I made a mistake, we didn’t know about the ambush in time, my partner got shot and is in intensive car and four other agents are dead. I came out perfectly fine. What else am I supposed to say?” He turned his back on Marie and started down the stairs. “Why don’t you finish up with CSI and I’ll go down to the record hall.” He left her there, partially angry at her for bringing up the subject and partially angry at himself for the same reasons he’d been tortured with for the past week.

Later that night, he lay on his single bed in his crappy apartment, maps and case files spread out all over the bed next to him. He was practically crawling out of his skin. He had called Marie twice, with no answer, (She was probably with her boyfriend, having a grand old time.) and the hospital once (“I’m sorry, sir, there’s been no change in your partner’s status.”) and all the emotion was starting to hit him. Evan hated slowing down. When he slowed down he had too much to think about and no one to tell it to and he started to feel like there was a giant bubble inside of him, pushing outwards, making him feel like he was going to explode if he didn’t do something. As a result, he apartment was immaculately clean, all his laundry was down, all of his relatives had lengthy emails (none of which hinted at anything real that was happening) and his CD were alphabetized, as well as his books and movies. Some would call this obsessive compulsive disorder, Evan called it therapy.

He had also noticed a pattern in the crimes and sightings of Self. The most recent ones were lain out in a near perfect circle around an abandoned apartment building scheduled to be torn down in two weeks. He went back to previous sprees and found the same circle with a condemned building in the center. The spree started when the city announced they would tear down the building and ended the day before the building was actually torn down. This only added to his restlessness. He was convinced that he had found Self, or at least could find Self, if his damn partner would answer her phone.

Evan squeezed his eyes shut, counting down a technique his therapist had prescribed to treat insomnia. It hadn’t failed him yet and it didn’t now.

He felt himself hit the floor, a weight holding him there. James, his partner, more like mentor, had pushed him out of the way of the gun fire that was popping all over the old federal warehouse. James spiraled out of the line of fire himself, ducking behind a crate. Evan copied his motion. James gave the younger agent a playful wink.

“Now this is what I signed up for!” James said, trying to get Evan out of his terrified sphere which was quickly turning into a sphere of self doubt and panic. That was one of the things that made James such a good partner for new agents; he was good a protecting them and teaching them at the same time. He gave Evan a quick nod, and tucked into a low crouch, slinking near the floor to the next set of boxes. Evan took a deep breath, starting to follow his lead. But a sickening thump reached his ears as a sharp pain erupted at the nape of his neck. He staggered, falling first to his knees, and then all fours. As his vision began to fade he fell onto his side and the cold, dampness of the warehouse floor occupied his every thought, seemingly for an eternity…

Evan’s eyes popped open. He sat up with a groan, feeling slightly ill, as he had felt every day for a week when he thought about the gun battle that had killed four FBI agents and landed his partner with three gunshot wounds to the torso, and in intensive care at George Washington Hospital. He had woken up with no gunshot wounds, only a throbbing bump on the back of his neck and some scratches on his face that quickly faded. When they were gone, within a couple days of the shooting, his superiors thought he was okay to return him to work and saddle him with his first lead case. At least they were generous enough to let him partner with Marie, who he at least had a relationship with.

He drummed on the nightstand, unable to sit here anymore. He had to do something. He picked up his cell phone again, dialing Marie’s number.

“Marie, it’s me again. I can’t just sit here any more. I think I’ve got a lead and I’ve got to check it out. Meet me at 857 Phoenix St when you get this. It’s very important, I assure you.” He hung up the phone, grabbed his favorite gun off the bureau and ran out the door to his car.

It was times like this when he wished that CIA cars got sirens and pulse boxes like the police and fed cars. He spent the entire trip A, hoping he wouldn’t get pulled over, B hoping he wouldn’t get into an accident and C hoping that he was too late to catch Self once and for all.

He stopped several blocks away from the building, quietly parking along the side of the road. He walked calmly up to the building, trying not to arouse suspicion while simultaneously watching for anything suspicious. He saw what appeared to be a flicker of light in the fourth floor apartment. He drew his gun as he climbed the stairs. When he reached the fourth floor landing, he took a deep breath and slowly pushed on the door. It was open; he wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign. He entered the apartment carefully, his gun in front of him, like he had been trained. He saw nothing immediately, but suddenly heard a slight creak of the door being pushed closed and something cold and metallic being pressed lightly into the back of his neck.

“I swear I will blast your brains out if you don’t do exactly what I tell you to do.” Evan’s mouth was suddenly dry. All he could think was that Marie was right; Self was a woman.

“Okay. I will.” Evan was brave, but he wasn’t stupid. He had no doubt that Self would kill him if he angered her and he couldn’t overcome her in his current position.

“Alright, that’s good.” She said. “Now put your gun on the floor.” He hesitated. One of the first things they taught you in basic training was that in a possible hostage situation you should never allow your weapon to be taken from you. But the gun currently held to his head pressed a little harder and he gently switched on the safety and put the gun on the floor. “Nice choice. Hands on your head.” Evan complied. “Now follow me.” Self placed her free had on his back and directed him away from the door to a chair that was conveniently sitting directly opposite the door. “Have a seat, agent. Hands on the arms, if you please.” As Evan turned around, he got his first glimpse of the thief Self. He noticed first that she was very beautiful. He also noticed she was very young. She had dark black hair and pale green eyes. She was wearing jeans and a dark blue ribbed shirt with black combat boots. Her green eyes reflected a fierce light and her face was angular; with her hair pulled back as it was, she looked fierce and fatal, though quite ethereal. She grabbed a roll of dark gray tape that had been, once again conveniently, sitting on the small table close to the chair. “Are you going to be nice for a sec while I use both my hands for this? I swear, if you try and move I will kick your ass and your death will be a lot more painful than what I have planned now?” Evan swallowed and nodded. “Good.” She tucked the gun into the waistband of her jeans and used both of her hands to tape Evan’s wrists, ankles, and chest to the chair. Tightly. Evan could feel his circulation being cut off and he couldn’t help hissing in pain. When she was done she grabbed another chair, this time with no arms and sat on it backwards, resting her chin on the back of it. She gave him a small smile, twirling the gun-he know saw it was a Colt .45- in her left hand.

“I can’t help but think you were expecting me.”

“I was.” She said simply. “You’re a smart agent, and I knew my pattern would be discovered soon. In fact, I hoped it would be.” She tilted her head impishly. “It just gets so boring when no one knows what you’re doing. Now that you know my pattern, even what I look like, the game will just get more and more fun.” She sighed, sitting up. “I suppose you want the whole story.”

“Why don’t you start with last week?!?!” Evan said, suddenly furious. “The FBI warehouse. That was you, wasn’t it????”

“Partially.” She said. “Let me explain. I had every intention of ripping the place off. But the drug runners got their first. I had nothing to do with the fire fight that killed those feds and injured your partner. Seriously, not my MO. You’ve studied the file, I rarely leave victims, and when I do, it’s a single one, always a throat slit. Never a gun fight. No, far too many variables. So I was just watching the battle, a little pissed that I’d be missing out on a very good load, when I noticed a young agent about to make a huge mistake.” Evan gaped at her.

“What are you talking about?”

“You, Evan Smith. See, during this little gun battle I took a liking to you. You were young smart, reminded me a little of myself when I was first starting out. And you were about to throw away your wonderful future. When you were about to follow your partner out from behind that final row of crates, do you remember that? Well, you had failed to notice the surroundings before you were in such a compromising situation; there were no more boxes on your side of the warehouse. If you had run out from behind your little shelter, you would have been a perfect target for the snipers who were working on picking off your friends. So, I knocked you out. Saved your life.” She smirked at his expression. “You should be grateful. I saved your life. What part of that don’t you get?”

“What I don’t get is how much you don’t care about the others who died that night.”

“I’m sorry Evan, but I can’t change my morals now.” She said, almost sadly. “And I’m assuming you figured out what I did last night, or else you wouldn’t have hunted me so fiercely.” She smiled again. Evan thought she looked prettier when she smiled. “You know, three stories in six minutes is not a bad time.” She rose and sat on the edge of the open window, gazing out across the city.

“So you did kill Harrison.” Evan said, wondering if now was the end. There was a knife stuck into the wood of the window, pinning a piece of paper down.

“Yup.” She said. “You called your partner before you left, right?”

“So what if I did?” Evan was feeling pretty confused. He wasn’t sure if he hated or was grateful for this young woman who held his life in her hands like it was a child’s toy.

“She just arrived.” She whispered. “Which indicates that it is now my time to go.” She grabbed a jacket off the back of the chair she had been sitting on. It was dark green and looked army surplus. She stuck her Colt into a holster and the holster to her jeans.

“Wait! I want to know more details about last night!” Evan cried out, staling for time.

“Don’t try and stale me, Evan.” She said, tying a cord to one of the legs of his chair and throwing it out the window. “It’s time for me to go. Don’t worry. We’ll meet again, I’m sure of it.” She leaned down close to his ear. “I want you to catch me, when I’m ready.” He could feel her breath on the back of his neck and his heart started to pound. Then she rose, with a final ethereal smile and jumped out the window, just as Marie kicked down the door, guns blazing.

“God damn it, Evan Smith, you are never EVER allowed to give me a heart attack like that again.” She was wearing a long flowing skirt and a nice blouse, assumedly out to dinner with her boyfriend. Evan found it funny that she brought her gun to dinner. “Where did she go?”

“Out the window.” The next words out of Evan’s mouth came involuntarily. “A couple minutes before you arrived. She’s probably long gone by now.” Even with the blatant like, he was able to sound wistful. Marie believed him. Guilt twisted his insides as she ignored the chase, choosing instead to use the knife from the window to cut Evan’s bonds. When he was free, she handed him the piece of paper that the knife had been pinning to the sill.

“This is addressed to you.” She said, confused. Evan took it, opening it as Marie started to inspect the run down apartment.

Evan-

I’m sorry about what happened last week, and any trouble that I may have caused.

You were also completely right about last night. I scaled the three stories in the six minutes when the camera was focused on the front of the building. The window pane popped out easily and quietly; Jensen never saw it coming. His death was quick; he bled out fast. Tell that to his fiancé for me, Kay?

I know we will be seeing a lot of each other in the coming times. Keep sharp; I wasn’t lying about what I told you before I left. I want you to be the one to catch me.

-“Self”

PS: My name’s Kim, so you can stop calling me “Self”. It’s a rather sorry nickname, just to say.

Evan shook his head at her audacity. He couldn’t believe how easily she talked to him, as if they were old friends, maybe something more. He felt something else hard in the envelop. He dumped in on his palm.

It was the disk.

He stared at it in shock as his cell phone started ringing. He handed it to Marie as he answered.

“Mr. Smith? This is Dr. Ramanujan from GW Hospital. I’m afraid I have some bad news about your partner…”