Mitch’s smile grew broader. He leaned over and they kissed.
Salvi awoke to the sound of Mitch’s iPort signaling an incoming call. He groaned and unsheathed the apartment’s soft green Bio-Lume light. She saw it was just after 4am. Mitch fumbled with his iPort and studied it.
“Shit,” he said, voice thick with sleep. “It’s Ford.” He rubbed his eyes, then sat up, put his lenses and earpiece in, and answered the call. “Yeah?” he said, as Salvi rolled over onto her side.
“What…?” Mitch’s voice fell into a serious tone. “W-what the fuck? When?”
Salvi suddenly felt more awake, propping herself up on her elbow.
Mitch was a ball of concentration, listening. “Yeah… Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
The call ended and the silver sheen disappeared from his eyes. Mitch turned on his electric bedside lamp, making Salvi wince.
“What’s going on?” she asked, sitting up.
Mitch looked at her, his face pale, his eyes troubled.
“Mitch? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Caine,” he said, his voice weak with shock.
“What’s happened?” She straightened.
Mitch looked speechless for a moment, shaking his head in confusion.
“He’s dead.”
4: TRIDENT
Within minutes they were dressed and riding along in Mitch’s sleek black Raider, siren wailing. Salvi eyed the screen set into its console, showing the target location that Ford had sent him. It was down by the docks.
“What the hell happened?” Salvi thought aloud.
“I don’t know,” Mitch shook his head, face tight with worry. “Fuck!” he hit the steering wheel with his hand. “Why didn’t he call me if he was in trouble?”
“What would he be doing down by the docks?” Salvi asked.
Mitch shook his head again. “I don’t know.” He pressed the accelerator and the Raider kicked up speed.
Salvi watched the city fly past the Raider’s windows, before she looked back at Mitch. “You think this has something to do with your Langford case?”
Mitch shook his head yet again. “No… Something’s been going on with Caine,” he glanced at her. “He’d been showing up late, tired. Wouldn’t tell me what’s going on. I didn’t push, but maybe I should have, instead of covering for him.” He winced and hit the steering wheel again. “Fuck!”
An alert sounded on the console, warning them they were closing in on the target. Salvi looked up through the windscreen and saw a police drone circling overhead. Mitch turned the Raider down a street to the right, and the alert on their console picked up frequency and pitch, letting them know they’d reached their location. Mitch pulled up behind a series of parked patrol cars, flashing their red and blue lights, and Salvi saw the digital wall of light ahead stating: ‘Police line – Do not cross.’
She swallowed and glanced at Mitch, who was already halfway out the door. She swiftly followed and they moved to the entrance of the rundown warehouse, tapping their holo-badges as they did. A uniformed officer on the door quickly scanned their IDs then gave a nod, waving them through. Mitch entered first but he paused a few steps inside the doorway. Salvi stepped around him and when she saw what had stopped him, she too paused.
There was Caine. Lifeless.
He was strung up, naked, on a large wooden circle, reminiscent of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. His body was covered in dark bruises, many deep gashes and a lot of blood.
He was a horrific, tortured mess.
“Jesus…” Salvi said, struggling for breath. She looked back to Mitch but he’d started moving toward Caine’s body, where Weston, Swaggert and the forensics team were hard at work.
“What the hell happened?” Mitch said loudly. Salvi realized he was talking to Ford, who stood in the corner deep in discussion with Hernandez and Bronte.
Ford turned at the sound of his voice, then her eyes moved from Mitch to Salvi.
“What happened?” Mitch asked Ford again.
“When did you last see him?” she asked, darting her eyes to Salvi again, as she moved to intercept Mitch.
Mitch stuttered as he cleared his mind to think. “Y-yesterday. Early afternoon. Maybe 3-4 o’clock.”
“You didn’t hear from him since?” Ford asked.
“No,” Mitch said, as Hernandez and Bronte joined them.
Salvi looked at Hernandez. “Who found him?”
“A hobo,” he said, pointing to an old man in dirty rags carrying a brown paper bag, standing with a uniformed officer. “Said he sleeps here. Came in tonight and found him.”
“When?” Salvi asked.
“He doesn’t have a watch, but he told the first responders he’d just found him, which makes it right after 3am.”
“No one saw anything?” Mitch asked.
“Not that we know of,” Ford said.
“Ford,” Weston called solemnly. She stood beside Caine’s body.
“What?” Ford said.
“He hasn’t been dead long. I’d say time of death was maybe an hour or two ago.”
“Fuck!” Mitch said again, turning away and running his hand through his hair. “I could’ve saved him.”
“No you couldn’t,” Ford said.
Mitch turned back to her.
“Look at that blood loss, Grenville,” Ford said firmly. “He bled out. Even if we arrived while his heart was still beating, we couldn’t have saved him.”
“Where the hell is Beggs?” Bronte said, turning to Hernandez. “You got hold of him, right?”
“Yeah,” Hernandez nodded, then looked at the doorway and straightened.
“Jesus Christ!” Beggs called out from the warehouse entrance. They turned to see him striding toward the wheel. “Jesus Christ!...What the fuck?”
Ford, Mitch and Hernandez moved toward him.
“Cut him down!” Beggs yelled at Ford.
“We need to process the scene!” she said firmly. “You know that!”
“Fuck!” Beggs yelled. “Cover him or something! Jesus!”
“Yo, Beggs. Beggs!” Hernandez said, stepping in front of him. “We’re gonna do that soon, alright. You know we will.” Beggs, agitated, kept trying to move around him, but Hernandez kept blocking his path. “Beggs, look at me. Look at me!” Hernandez grabbed his arm. “We’re gonna get them. Alright? We’re gonna get the motherfucker who did this, trust me!”
Beggs’ chest was rising and falling, breathing heavily through the shock. He turned to look at Mitch. “What the fuck happened?”
“I don’t know,” Mitch said.
“What do you mean you don’t know. You’re his partner! You
