Page 49 of Violent Skies

“They’re getting bolder,” Rafe mutters, sliding into the recliner.

“Bird’s face proves it,” Jesse grunts. “So what do we do?”

“No one goes anywhere by themselves,” Riggs suggests. “Ever.” He looks at Birdie, who had gone out of her way to sneak out to the race alone. “We keep racing, we keep digging.”

“We protect each other," I add to Riggs’ pep talk and he looks over his shoulder at me with a nod. The garage goes quiet and it’s a strange silence that the walls have never known. Not a single person argues with his decision, not even Birdie.

“That’s all dandy,” Jesse pipes up after a second, “and I know I’m not the best at counting, but it seems like you're down a brother.”

Riggs sighs. “Has anyone heard from Murphy today?”

“Hey Marc.” One of the officer’s behind the glass gives me a wave and I wink at him as he pops the sensor for me and lets me into the back. “I heard Internal Affairs was having trouble with their computers again. You should get a donut, maybe two, before getting to work for them. Make them sweat.”

“Yeah Austin,” I laugh, leaning against the door frame with my laptop bag over my shoulder. “You just don’t want them finding out what you do back here when no-one is looking.” I point to his computer and smile. “There’s better ways to hide your search history. Remind me on the way out.”

“People’s champion, Marc!” he hollers as I start back through the station past all the cops completely unbothered because they have no idea who I really am. Two years ago, when we were digging into the job that ended Koa’s life, Riggs told us to drop it. I didn’t. I knew there was more I could do, so I went to school. School turned into a tech support job for a few of the civilian branches. Then one day the system crashed — a Phoenix-wide outage with the operating panel. No calls in or out.

The only person who could fix it was me.

What they didn’t know was that I’d planted the virus.

Marc Humphry, is a genius loner who still lives with his Mom and has a record winning collection of reptiles. He’s also a persona I created to separate myself from anyone digging too deeply on who I really am. He’s kind, polite, and makes friends with the right people. Like Austin, the cop that works the front desk, and Hayden who works street level crime. An exhausted beat cop looking for any breaks he can get.

Lucky enough for Hayden, I have spare time to watch cameras I shouldn’t have access to.

“Marc!” Hayden stands from his desk and throws his hand out to me with a hearty shake. “What dragged you down here?” He flashes his gap tooth smile at me and settles back against his desk.

“Uh—” I stutter my words for him, pushing the loner stereotype, and Hayden eats it up. “I was wondering if you could look at something for me?” I ask, lowering my voice, and he nods enthusiastically.

“What you got for me, nerd?” He shifts as I pull my phone out.

“Last week someone broke into my Aunt’s house,” I lie smoothly, showing him the video outside Cress’s house. “And then again to her neighbours, all sep— sep—” I stop, swallowing hard to sell the stutter and push my glasses up on my nose.

“Seperate,” Hayden helps me, never taking his eyes off the phone.

“Events. I was just wondering if it’s something the gang unit is looking into?” I ask him, as he watches the video on repeat.

It takes another minute or so, and as he inspects the footage, my eyes scan the station. The thing is, if I can get in here with ease, so can other people. I have no idea who’s watching anymore, and everyone feels suspicious. The photos have us rattled and unfortunately have pissed Birdie off enough that she’s going to that race. I look down at the watch on my arm, clocking the time. I need to be out of here in the next hour to meet her outside the Soundwave after her race, but Hayden is taking his sweet time.

“I haven’t heard anything about break ins…” He says it like he might know something else and I tuck my phone into my pocket nervously, waiting and hoping he’ll just tell me because he trusts ‘Marc’. I don’t want to have to push it. I can’t if I want to keep up this persona. If Austin doesn’t want to tell me, I can’t demand much more. It’ll shatter this connection and we need it going forward, especially now.

“However…” He moves around his desk and I shift in my sneakers, just hoping that he has something I don’t and that this wasn’t a complete waste of a day.

It’s getting increasingly hard to plant the code in the IA computers without getting caught, but they are always the quickest to call me when their systems go haywire.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that marking,” he mumbles. “We had a body roll through here a couple days ago.”

Birdie’s victim. Of course.

“Nightclub incident, bar fight. Dude got messed up bad.” Hayden brings up the file. “But this came across my desk today.” He points to the computer and it’s a photo of a tattoo. “That’s a new guy, same tattoo…” He looks over at me.

“Do you have any—any other—” I trip over my words.

“No, they’re still in the middle of cutting him up and taking pictures.” Hayden shrugs. “If I hear anything I’ll give you a call.”

“Thanks,” I say quietly.

“Hey Marc, thanks for the hook ups for the basketball tickets. I don’t know how a nerd like you got game but they worked. She rode me in the fucking parking lot before I even got her home,” he says and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. I force a smile to my lips and raise both hands in the air.