Harry Planter sucked on a cigarette and focussed his binoculars. The Camaro’s leather seats were hot to the touch, its dashboard cracked and faded. Nobody had come out of the Institute for the past four hours. A pile of cigarette butts sat beneath the open window like hungry mice. He dropped the binoculars into his lap and made a small cursive note in his pad. There had to be an easier way of earning a living.
When Harry was a young man, he served in the war. Agent Orange coated his lungs and gave him super powers – the power to hallucinate and hack up clots of blood at will. He worked security, bail bonds, mall cop, now private investigator. It wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded. A lot of the time it just meant sticking to leather seats, killing the chemicals in your lungs with other chemicals.
This stakeout had lasted a week so far, without a lot to show for it. He wasn’t even sure who his client was; envelopes in his drop box with a spider logo stamped in the corner, brief instructions and a wad of used bills. He wasn’t proud, but he was hungry, so he took the job.
A glint of sunlight tracked across the Camaro. The door of the Institute had swung open and a middle aged woman had emerged, carrying a dog. The dog seemed to be asleep, or maybe fake. Harry scrambled to get the binoculars to his eyes. “Well, hello Sheila,” he rasped. The woman pulled sunglasses down over her eyes, and put the dog-shaped thing into a large shoulder bag. In a few moments, a black car pulled up and swallowed her before whispering away.
Harry put the car in drive, and pulled out after her, keeping a respectful distance. His mobile phone rang. He spat the cigarette out of the open window and scrambled in the centre console to retrieve it.
“ABORT,” said a computer voice at the end of the line. “BECOME IT WHEN FAST REGARD 76” it barked.
“What the fuck, who is this?” snarled Harry, but the voice just kept repeating the same digital command. He hung up, threw the phone in the passenger footwell and peeled off into a side street.