Detroit, Michigan 1992
I make the heater in the car do its job, and whilst it blows hot air it reminds me of how alike we both are. I try to block out the injuries I’ve sustained over the last few days, but each attempt only brings new bruises to my attention.
I check the disk, still intact, running out of ideas… computers just aren’t my thing. Jake was my lifeline, the only one worth a damn in this black pit of excuses.
A light bulb illuminates above my head in comical fashion. I have an idea, sometimes it’s the simplest thoughts that lead to success.
I used to bust gang-bangers down on Brightmoor, it was a while ago, before I joined homicide, but there was a guy.
His name was Hank Fredrickson. He’d been caught in a cross fire between two rival gangs, I saved him… found an entire stash of computer equipment and chemicals in the process… we confiscated them and left with our heads held high. Two weeks later his neighborhood almost destroyed itself.
Hank said our presence caused the tension, maybe he was right… but either way… he owes me.
And a man like Hank doesn’t shy away from illegal computer equipment easily.
I head to his house and knock on the door, the house isn’t much to look at. Reminds me of an old shack from the deep south era. He answers the door, half asleep and obviously not safety conscience.
It takes him a few seconds to adjust to the light, a few more to realize its me. I bust in before he can lock me out. Confusion fills the room, he panics, assumes the worst. I reassure him.
“Relax Hank, I just need a favor.”
He pretends to relax, reaching for a paper weight as he does.
“I’ve got a disk, need someone to tell me what’s on it… who’s on it.”
His grip on the glass weight dissipates.
“You’re not here to take me in?”
His concerns are noted.
“Last time you were here you saved my life… then sent me away for five years.”
I don’t need reminding, I was there.
“If I read this disk, you’ll leave… no questions asked.”
He catches on quick.
“Hank, if you tell me what’s on this disk, I'll give you a medal.”
He’s not impressed.
“You didn’t answer my question… will you leave me alone.”
He wants an answer, I give it to him… don’t have time for games.
“Yes, come rain nor shine, you’ll never see me again.”
His vacant expression turns into an impressed smile.
“Okay then, lets have a look at this disk.”
I hand the disk over, feeling closer to the truth as I do… Hank’s not the most trustworthy person in the world… but if you give a condemned man a way out… he’s sure to take it.
To be continued…
I make the heater in the car do its job, and whilst it blows hot air it reminds me of how alike we both are. I try to block out the injuries I’ve sustained over the last few days, but each attempt only brings new bruises to my attention.
I check the disk, still intact, running out of ideas… computers just aren’t my thing. Jake was my lifeline, the only one worth a damn in this black pit of excuses.
A light bulb illuminates above my head in comical fashion. I have an idea, sometimes it’s the simplest thoughts that lead to success.
I used to bust gang-bangers down on Brightmoor, it was a while ago, before I joined homicide, but there was a guy.
His name was Hank Fredrickson. He’d been caught in a cross fire between two rival gangs, I saved him… found an entire stash of computer equipment and chemicals in the process… we confiscated them and left with our heads held high. Two weeks later his neighborhood almost destroyed itself.
Hank said our presence caused the tension, maybe he was right… but either way… he owes me.
And a man like Hank doesn’t shy away from illegal computer equipment easily.
I head to his house and knock on the door, the house isn’t much to look at. Reminds me of an old shack from the deep south era. He answers the door, half asleep and obviously not safety conscience.
It takes him a few seconds to adjust to the light, a few more to realize its me. I bust in before he can lock me out. Confusion fills the room, he panics, assumes the worst. I reassure him.
“Relax Hank, I just need a favor.”
He pretends to relax, reaching for a paper weight as he does.
“I’ve got a disk, need someone to tell me what’s on it… who’s on it.”
His grip on the glass weight dissipates.
“You’re not here to take me in?”
His concerns are noted.
“Last time you were here you saved my life… then sent me away for five years.”
I don’t need reminding, I was there.
“If I read this disk, you’ll leave… no questions asked.”
He catches on quick.
“Hank, if you tell me what’s on this disk, I'll give you a medal.”
He’s not impressed.
“You didn’t answer my question… will you leave me alone.”
He wants an answer, I give it to him… don’t have time for games.
“Yes, come rain nor shine, you’ll never see me again.”
His vacant expression turns into an impressed smile.
“Okay then, lets have a look at this disk.”
I hand the disk over, feeling closer to the truth as I do… Hank’s not the most trustworthy person in the world… but if you give a condemned man a way out… he’s sure to take it.
To be continued…
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