Continued From Part 2

The book repository was on Iron Street, a half-mile away from anyone who was still awake. The open industrial park was free of any traffic, and the air was still enough to hear the Orange Line pass by in the distance. When I arrived in the area, I wasn't too late for anything. We had officially crossed into a new day, yet the lights were still on. People were still inside, running their operation. And I needed a way in.

I moved through the shadows, clocking their ranks. Hired muscle was staging large crates from one area to another. Every 20 feet stood a watchful eye, making sure the area was clear of outsiders. The path of their surveillance lead to a stairwell going upstairs, seemingly where the big man was stationed. There was a guy watching the backdoor, watching over a blind spot of the cameras. I had to quickly dispatch him in order to slink through. Hiding the remains becomes easier when the area is surrounded by boxes of books.

The more ground I covered, the stranger this entire situation became. I found guards, I found goods, but there was one thing notably absent: Clients. The dead of night is perfect cover for under-the-table logistics, yet there didn't seem to be any sign that any of this was outgoing. The things being moved around also set off some alarm bells. These guys weren't moving knock-offs or drugs; they were moving hazmat containers and medical equipment. What exactly was the nature of this operation?

A guard inside had noticed that no one was watching the door in the back, so he went to go investigate. He didn't find anything, but it gave me a great opportunity to get some intel of my own. With him separated from the pack and out of ear-shot, I pulled him in closer to the shadows and neutralized him. It was a bit messier than the first, but I was still able to get him sufficiently hidden. And unlike the first guy, this one had some valuable information on their PDA. They seemed to have been facilitating the services of a PI with an obscured phone number. Their last sent text was to "RT", and simply read, "File's in the common."

"RT". Roger Thorne. I was definitely going in the right direction. The text had been sent an hour previous, so I still potentially had time. Hopefully. A pool of blood had started slowly approaching my feet, so I quickly moved away from its source and started to make my way deeper into the building.

Upstairs was the general office area. It was a very old-fashioned setup, it made me feel like I had stepped back in the 1940's. The boss's door window was obscured, but that room was definitely not empty. I carefully looked around until I saw a door marked, "Common". It looked like a break room, with small tables on either end of the room. If Sam were here, he'd probably call it a "dining area". Idiot.

I saw something on the table farthest from the door: A file. I thought, maybe I'll finally get some answers. Finally, we'll get some closure about what all of this is about and what we're actually doing here. Finally, some actual closure.

Oh, what a sweet, innocent and naive creature I was.

What I saw left me with more questions than answers. And not out of confusion, but out of pure, unfiltered shock.

What I saw in that file was me.

It was the most comprehensive report about me I've ever seen. I don't even think Mikey would be able to replicate the depth this report contained. Of course, it had the usual descriptors: "dangerous", "psychotic", "unpredictable"; blah blah blah. But under all of that were things that I file like this wouldn't have cataloged. Not so much things researched, and more... studied. The perfect file for an external party to use for blackmail.

Just seeing my face in this file shook me to my core. I had forgotten what "panic" felt like before opening it. What are we going to do about this? What is there to do? Those questions were answered before even being asked: I had to condemn this building.

Whoever that woman was led me to something serious. Whether or not she realized it, she just set off a bomb with a shockwave of indeterminate radius. I don't know whether to thank her or make sure she also suffers in the fallout.

I rolled up the file and tucked it in the inside pocket of my coat. Before I could turn around to leave, I was tasered in the side. Startled, I made a blind back-swing and was quickly tackled into the table. The impact destroyed the table under us, and it wasn't long before the taser came back into play. I threw the man on top of me off and tried to move against the one with the taser. Because my attention on the taser was sharper, I didn't notice someone else come into the room and inject something into my neck. I was immediately out.

---

When I came to, I was in the middle of the warehouse floor, tied to a chair. It felt like all of the light in the building was concentrated on me. Every armed body in the building was standing around me, ready to fire. In front of me was the boss, who periodically coughed into his elbow.

"I was hoping you'd come around, sooner or later."

I couldn't place that voice exactly, but I recognized it from somewhere. My vision soon started to clear, so I looked up and saw his face.

It was Roger Thorne: the man in the visions. The man I watched die.

"Wha... I watched you die."

"No, I'm not dead. Not yet. And hopefully, you could help make sure I won't be."

To Be Continued...

[ https://hisvirusness.com/textbook-case-part-3 ]