Moments later, the leader of the bomb squad walked up to Jones.
“I can see why you’d think what you did,” the woman, heavily dressed in special armor, told Jones. “But it’s a fake. That’s not a bomb; there’s no explosive, no electronic link, no nothing. Just an empty container, a battery, and a timer.”
“Shit,” Jones declared, dumbfounded. “The guy fled, got himself shot, refused questioning…he could have just said it was a prank and got off a lot…oh damn. Damn, damn, damn! NICK!” he yelled, shoving past the members of the bomb squad, as he searched the crowd of cops for Ashton.
On the far side of the building, Ashton moved away from the structure per bomb protocols, and located a barricade pillar to use as a makeshift stool. The rest of the Team was clustered a little closer to the building – still out of the mandated danger zone for protocol, but close enough to study detail and try to figure out what was going on. Ashton sighed, stretched, and eased back on his stool, glancing at the sky.
“Nick?” someone asked behind him. “Nick? Is that you?”
He turned in instinctive response.
Three people stood there. Three people he recognized from IPD, who were not in uniform. Three people he recognized from Gorecki’s “goon squad.”
Kendall Raines, Jane Bowie, and Marc Olestri.
Shit, he thought. Play it, Nick. Stay calm.
“May I help you?” he asked politely, flashing the fake badge that Peterson had had made for him some time back, to match the rarely-used alias that she’d had created for him.
“Ashton? Dominick Ashton?” Bowie queried.
“No, I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” Ashton said smoothly. “I’m known as Nick, yes, but I’m Nicholas Benton, captain investigator with ICPD.” He pushed them the alias credentials through VR.
“Whoa,” Raines remarked. “Well, the eyes an’ hair are wrong, too, though, I guess…”
“What do you mean?” Ashton asked.
“He means you look kinda like this Ashton guy,” Bowie said. “We’re with IPD, plainclothes like you, and we’re on the lookout for him. He’s wanted.”
“Oh really?” Ashton asked, thinking, You crooked scum are nothing like me. “What’s he done?”
“He’s murdered several people,” Olestri declared. “We have evidence on him, we’ve just had a hard time tracking him down.”
“Is that right? Well, I’ll keep an eye out for this guy. In fact, would you like to come over and tell my supervisor, Colonel Peterson?”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” Olestri said, as the trio began to back off. “Don’t want to bother the Colonel; he probably already knows through channels anyway.”
“She. The Colonel is a she.”
“…Oh.”
“Well, if I see this Ashton guy, I’ll be sure to grab him for you,” Ashton said cheerily. “We’ll have to clear this bomb threat first, of course. But then you probably know about that, huh? Through ‘channels.’”
“Um, yes, right, of course,” Raines said. “Well, we need to get back on the trail. We had somebody report he was over here, but I guess they just mistook you for him and all…”
“Right,” Ashton said. “Good hunting.”
And they were gone.
No sooner had the trio gotten out of sight than the Team, led by Jones, Ames, and Peterson, came running up.
“Nick! Nick! Are you okay?” Ames exclaimed.
“Shush, Cal,” Ashton murmured. “I just got rid of some of Gorecki’s people. Claiming to still have badges, let me note.”
“Damn,” Peterson said then, keeping her tone low. “Tim, you were right.”
“Yeah,” Jones said, as the others clustered around Ashton. “Nick, man, that bomb was a fake. It was all to empty the building so the Impies could pick you off.”
“They tried,” Ashton said. “Apparently they’ve issued a warrant for me for murder – maybe more than one – and they’re likely hoping a regular citizen tips ‘em off where I am.” He paused, then met Colonel Peterson’s eyes. “Fortunately, the ‘Nick Benton’ alias credentials you had made for me, and entered in the system, made for some really nice use, just now.”
“And that also means that we might not want you running around as you, for the time being, until we can get this shit cleared up,” Peterson replied.
“Nick, has your landlord given you any problems about the apartment?” Ames wondered then. “If there’s a warrant for murder out for you, I mean, well…”
The others glanced at each other.
“She makes an excellent point,” Gorski noted, as Demetrius nodded. “Maia, I think maybe some of us more senior folk need to run over there and make sure his landlord – or at least, the building manager – knows what’s going on, at least to some degree. They need to know that Nick, here, is being framed, and that he’s on good terms with us, else he might find himself unceremoniously evicted.”
“Possibly straight into the IPD’s hands,” Demetrius added.
“That…is a very fair point, and a good idea,” Peterson agreed. “Perhaps we three can take care of that while the various teams are surveilling our perps for the big T?” she added an oblique reference to the Throne; they were still on the street.
“That works,” Demetrius decided. “Stefan?”
“I’m there, but I need to be at the Palace by noon. I’m meeting with the Major about something.”
“Right,” Peterson said. “Nick, is your team ready to go?”
Ashton glanced around; Jones flushed.
“I can be ready in five, soon as they let us back in the building,”
