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*The grainy fuzzed black and white display bore down against beady red bloodshot eyes. A white shapeless smudge flickered at the lower left hand corner of the screen. Even through narrowed vision, a clear likeness would have been almost impossible to discern. Out of the dull grey car stepped a huge machine whom the every next moment hurled itself into the air to go careening through the clear glass door. Another squared-off video feed positioned directly to the right of the original showed the interior of the store. It approached the counter with caution, exhibiting a concerned stare at something just out of sight of the camera’s lens. On pause and closer inspection, even through the vibrating scanlines and pixilation, an identification could have been made with relative ease.*
A loud knock at the door broke Drucker’s concentrated focus. He shook his head to clear away any cobwebs of thought before he answered. **“Yes, come in!”** he hollered. The door pushed open to reveal a rather elegant, well-to-do gentlemen sporting a black pin-striped cashmere suit and tie. It was the affable Mr. Dunbar.
He walked toward Drucker extending a hand in front of him. *“Mr. Drucker, a pleasure to see you again.”* His pristine leather shoes clacked at regular intervals upon the traditional hardwood floor. *“Likewise.”* He politely reciprocated with a soft added sigh. *“Thank you for coming in at such short notice.”* A burdened undertone came across loud and clear. *“As you’re probably well aware by now, things have taken a drastic turn for the worse.”* He directed Mr. Dunbar’s attention to the flat television perched up in the top corner of the room. *“That gigantic brute right over there is somehow involved in all of this but we’ve yet to confirm an ID.”* He looked back at Mr. Dunbar, head tilted slightly. *“I take it you’ve never seen this synthetic before. Am I right?”*
From an indistinct slit in his breast pocket, Mr. Dunbar produced a neat set of rounded bi-focal’s. Upon balancing them on the bridge of his nose, he focused in on the blurry luminous rectangle above him.
*“I see what you mean.”* he replied in awe. *“He certainly is of a sizable proportion. But no, I can honestly say I’ve never seen him before.”*
*“Don’t’ worry, Mr. Dunbar.”* He said moving toward his desk. *“Just thought I’d throw that out there just in case. No, the real reason I requested your kind visitation was this.”* He scooped up a flat, black device and began rotating a tiny jog shuttle that shifted the picture on-screen in accordance. The video stopped at a hooded figure standing in front of the counter. *“Recognize her?”* he inquired.
Mr. Dunbar offered up a series of squints and postulations before confirming the obvious. *“I cannot believe what I’m about to say… But that is unmistakably Mrs. Dullet. Though she is somewhat covering her face, it’s her outline that gives it away.”* He lowered his head in deep thought. *“How on earth could this be? Such an unassuming lady and always so polite and jovial. She was very liked by all who came in contact with her, you know.”*
*“Was she polite enough to split a young kid’s head in two and kidnap an innocent child?”* Mr. Dunbar raised his head with a sudden jerk at Drucker’s words. *“I’m sure you understand the severity of this situation. The blissful harmony that existed between us and the synthetics is now gone. Possibly forever. An ominous divide now stands in its place.”* Drucker spoke as if the weight of the entire world was resting on his shoulders. *“Timothy Booth. Yesterday an unknown college student working on minimum wage at a gas station, today a national treasure and patriot of his race. Go figure.”* Mr. Dunbar nodded in hesitant agreement. *“This isn’t just your run-of-the-mill murder investigation, but an international incident we’re dealing with here. It’s changed the whole political landscape literally overnight. So the person you thought she was is now in effect dead. I urge you to please bear that in mind moving forward.”* After an uncomfortable brief interlude, he ran his fingers over the dial once again as the shadowy figures scurried about the screen. It came to rest at a certain point a few minutes beforehand. Whilst the shop interior was now visibly restored back to an orderly state, another small inlay from the surveillance footage showed someone outside filling up the car with gas. *“What about this guy? Look familiar to you?”* Drucker asked.
Almost instinctively, Mr. Dunbar replied. *“Mr. Dullet. Without question, that is Mr. Dullet.”* This time, he appeared to be more resigned to the fact that his former residential occupants were in actuality cold-blooded killers.
Drucker ambled over to the safety of his high back leather chair and collapsed into it fatigued and subdued. He placed a hand above his brow and smoothed back his black gelled hair. *“Please leave any preconceptions at the door now, Mr. Dunbar. Make no mistake; these are fugitives and dangerous ones to boot. So if you have any more information that may help us, I would be very grateful indeed.”*
He imparted a pleasant closed-lip smiled revealing a fuller face than Drucker would have expected. *“Of course I will, Detective. Anything to assist you, but as of now, there is nothing that springs to mind. If that should change for whatever reason, you will be the first to know about it.”*
There was a restrained knock at the door.
*“Well, if you’ll excuse me.”* Mr. Dunbar said. *“I have some important matters to attend to. You have my number in case I’m needed. Good day, Detective.”*
*“No problem. And thank you once again for your time.”* Drucker said as the tall, thin gentleman let himself out the door. Just in time for Doug to come waddling in holding a filed police report in one hand and a cup of hot coffee in the other. He seemed nowhere near as stressed and lethargic as Drucker did himself.
*“Any updates?”* he drawled as Doug took a seat in front of him. The usual tagline of address when he saw him.
*“Oh, you bet. In fact, some major ones as you’re about to find out.”* Drucker could sense the inner enjoyment he felt in reciting that information out loud. The feelings associated with achievement and self-worth were like his oxygen. It seemed almost like a requirement to function at his very best and he knew Doug was now at his most productive. In essence, the spark had ignited the flame.
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<h2>Hope you enjoyed this post, please look out for more on the way... (author: @ezzy)</h2><hr>