31 December 2012
I put the disc back in its pouch and returned it to my coat pocket. I lit another cigarette, needing the relief the smoke gave, and sat heavily on the sofa, replaying in my mind what the disc had just shown me. What it had shown me was thirty seconds of pure mayhem. I'd counted at least ten figures, all in black and the obligatory face masking hoods of course, moving quickly and with real purpose. Some stayed in the lounge, some kept entering and leaving through the two adjoining doors, exit stage left, enter stage right. Halogen light shone across the room from the torches each of them was carrying. It was gentle, organised at first, but soon descended into a frenzied scramble for whatever it was they were looking for. Books flew from their dusty shelves. Tables and chairs were overturned. Ornaments and trinkets from a lifetimes trips and holidays were flung and were strewn all over the place. And then, as if a secret signal had been given, they all suddenly stopped their search, and just kind of disappeared, like a bunch of thieving ninjas.
I sat back deep in the sofa, drawing on the cigarette but not really getting anything out of it. I stubbed it out, and closed my eyes to try to think. What the fuck had happened here? I mean, sure, I'd made enemies during my tour on the force, but that came with the territory. And besides, they were all locked up. My round metal friend had pretty much taken care of that. And despite my sometimes unorthodox methods of policing, I was a clean cop, I was proud to say that. The badge still meant something to some of us. A burglary then? Maybe an organised crew taking down scores in this particular area? No, there were things in my apartment that even the least experienced cat would have noticed and taken without hesitation, and the guys in the replay had taken nothing as far as I could tell. Mistaken identity? Perhaps, but that was pretty thin, considering the organisation I'd just seen. No, these people had made no mistake. They'd been in the right place, just hadn't found what they came looking for. But what was it they were looking for? I stood as I heard the black and whites screech to a halt in the street a floor below me. CSI would arrive just after. They wouldn't find anything though, I was sure of that. Still, procedure is procedure, and it wouldn't do any harm to run this thing through the numbers. As the patrolmen and CSI started to invade my apartment I walked down the stairs, giving acknowledgements to officers I knew. Finding myself on the sidewalk, I lit another cigarette and leant on the roof of a patrol car, this time taking notice of the smoke and the momentary relief it was affording. A sudden thought occurred, and my free hand flew instinctively to my inside coat pocket, where the disc, in its pouch, nestled. That was it. Surely it was what they'd been looking for. Although I had some nice things in the apartment, some money laying around, it wasn't worth at least ten guys dressing like the night and doing a pro job for. No, it had to be the disc. But who knew? And how did they know where to come? And what to look for? The answer was in the last couple of seconds of the replay. As it was finishing, and all the ninjas had cleared the scene, one remained a little longer than the others. It checked left and right for a final time and then made to leave. Exit stage left. But before the figure disappeared it paused, and took off its hood. And the face that took its place seemed to glow in the darkness, it was that familiar. As the hood came free, and the long blonde hair fell to her shoulders, there in front of me in a hologrammatical image, stood my wife...
Replay 2 • Opuss № I