17 May 2012
Anderson was flush with excitement. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner. It was staring at him in the face the whole time. He hated himself for not thinking of it sooner. He quickly say in front of his computer. His fingers not obeying him as he rushed to type in the address in the web browsers address bar.
www.icloud.com
It was almost funny that you could track anyone, anywhere as long as they had a smart phone on them. A few years ago they would have to contact dispatch, give them the phone number and service provider and then get tem to triangulate the signal by tracking the three closest phone masts, and even then you would only get a rough area to where the subject was. Now, as long as a phone had a GPS chip, you could narrow it down to a few feet and all done in a fraction of the time. He stared at the log in screen. This would normally be nightmare. The IT department would have to take over. Finding the ID wouldn't be a problem, after all it was just an email address, but the password would need serious work. A dictionary hack would be easiest, but if it was just a collection of random letters and numbers in varying cases then a more brute force attack would be needed. Thankfully Morris was utterly useless with technology. She didn't had the patience with anything electronic to get its full use. Anderson was the opposite. He lived and breathed tech. He could build a PC from barebones to OS install in under ten minutes. He understood it, be loved it. So he had been the obvious choice for her to help her setup her new phone. He punched in the password.
NeverMore1845
Where Anderson's passion was computers, electronics and gadgets. Morris was into reading. What better password for her to remember then one based on a novel by Edgar Allan Poe. Not even Morris with her ten second memory with passwords would forget that. The number being the year of which it had been written. The web browser dissolved the log in box. Revealing the boxes below it. Mail. Contacts. Calendar. Find My iPhone. iWork. There was only one he was interested in. He quickly reached for the mouse. He hadn't noticed he had drawn a small crowd around the workstation. All straining to see what was going on. He places the cursor over the Find My iPhone logo.
"Please work." he whispered under his breath. Under the desk, his hidden hand crossed its fingers.
A blue box popped up asking for the password again. He quickly fumbled at the keyboard and typed it in.
'Incorrect Password' flashed up.
"Fuck it." he said aloud. Flicking the cursor over the OK box. His haste had betrayed him and he had got it wrong. He steadied his breathing and tried again. Just using two fingers, slowly, ensuring he punched the correct keys. The box again dissolved an slowly a map was rendered on the screen. Grey cross hatching rendered over the google maps image. The top left corner of the screen a box appeared, with 'My Devices' on it. Below it a list of iOS devices Morris owned. He unselected the iPad icon, clicking on the iPhone one. The text under it started to read Locating. The map on the screen went white. This was it. It was going to tell them her location. The crowd around the workstation had grown. Nearly everyone from the office was now stood around him, holding their breath. The busy office, usually humming with excitement, work and the occasional swear word was silent. You could hear a pin drop. The computer seemed to be taking forever. What was probably only minutes seemed to last days. The little blue pin wheel on the screen spinning, teasing them with the information it was withholding. Suddenly the screen sprang to life. A little green dot appeared and the screen started to render the map around it. The mass of people around him seemed to lean closer, trying to see what secrets they had just uncovered. In the background a phone rang. No one bothered to answer it.
"iPhone located 1 minute ago" the box in the left corner said, a small green circle appeared around the dot, allowing for miscalculations. The orange, yellow and white roads finished rendering. The green dot was just off of Southfield Road. That was it. That was where she was.
"Where is that?" Larson ventured over Anderson's shoulder.
Anderson clicked the Hybrid button in the bottom right corner. The screen flashed again, wiping clean what it had just rendered. Suddenly the white was replaced with photo's.
"Thank God for satellites." somebody said in the background. The phone behind them all still ringing.
The area around the green dot had changed from white to grey and black. Anderson hit the plus symbol, zooming in a couple of times. It showed the area more closely, the roofs of buildings were easy to make out.
"It's an old industrial sector." Anderson said. "I don't think there is anything there anymore. It's all closed."
The dot was between two large buildings, the green circle over both. It could mean only one thing. She was in one of those buildings. Or at least her phone was. Larson peeled off from the crowd, heading towards the lieutenants office. Anderson felt exhausted. It had only been five minutes work, and hardly difficult, but it was like a huge weight had been lifted from him. They finally knew where his partner was. Where his friend was. All around him people were talking again. Some still looking at the screen. The phone that had been ring had finally been answered or the caller had given up and decided to try again later. The lieutenant and Larson were coming out of the office now. Larson pointing towards Anderson. They walked over. Cook peering at the screen over the top of his glasses. He slapped Anderson on te back.
"Great work Detective." he told Anderson. "Great work."
"Give me five minutes, and I'll be ready to go, sir." Anderson replied, not even taking the complement in.
"Five minutes?" Cook replied. "I don't think so Charles. It's going to take over an hour for us to get the correct authority and raise a S.W.A.T team. Besides I'm not sure you should e going anyway."
"I'm sorry? You don't want me to go?" Anderson answered, slightly bemused.
"No offence intended," continued Cook, "But you had your chance last night. You failed, and because of your actions, we are an officer down."
Anderson could feel his rage building. He struggled to contain it. "Sir. If the situation was reversed, Morris would move heaven and earth to find me. What's more, I would want her too. A much as I respect my fellow officers, I would want my partner heading the rescue party." Anderson could feel himself go redder as he spoke.
"I don't care." Came Cook's reply. "Your benched Anderson. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. Larson. You get hold of S.W.A.T. I'll get us the warrant."
Anderson couldn't believe it. He stood there for a moment. His fists clenched. He thought that if it hadn't been for him, they wouldn't have a clue where she was. Of course if it hadn't been for him they wouldn't have needed to look for her either. People were still looking at him. For the second time today, he didn't care. he walked back to his desk. He couldn't just sit there. Not when Morris needed him the most. She wouldn't leave him out to dry. And he wouldn't do it to her either. Fuck S.W.A.T. Fuck warrants. Fuck the lieutenant and most importantly fuck Stanley Crippen. That evil cunt had got away last night, but not today. He reached down into his bottom draw. He pulled out his 9mm pistol and holstered it under his jacket, on his side. He made sure no one had seen him do so. Thankfully everyone else had started to get on with their work. Prepping for the raid. No one notice him with his weapon. He didn't want anyone to raise the alarm. If they wanted to sit around and wait that was fine. But that monster could be doing anything to his partner. He wasn't going to sit around scratching his balls waiting for the green light, that by all accounts, he wasn't going to get. He stood up and walked across the office. Checking his pocket to make sure he had his keys. He opened the door and slipped out. No one noticed. Too busy with their paper work. As he walked down the stairs, heading for the car park, he said to himself, under his breath.
"Come on in Stanley. Your fucking time is up."
Stan: Chapter Twenty • Opuss № I