System Jazz

"Is there a way to join a crime prevention program?"

The question sounds reluctant, yet this was his condition to help.

They clear the suspicion for volunteering to this governmental bullshit.

The Old Fox figures us out before the sentence ends, raising an eyebrow at the Baldie.

"So that's your angle." He scoffs and throws a set of keys at his desk.

It's easy to tell what's going on between them, and getting involved seems like a bad idea.

Sort this out yourselves and let go with a cigarette, for crying out loud.

"You played me to get him into the program."

"Played you? We discussed the option on our way here." Baldie shrugs, his lies are much more convincing than mine. He glances, waiting for a nod, then blames his colleague.

"Who complained about the quota the other day? He fits the requirements, so why not let him in?"

"Fine, knock yourself out." The Fox says and prepares to leave. These two must hate each other's guts and the crossfire is brutal. He won't go down without a fight.

"Send him to the guard house for the night. Wait for Aspirant Lee's report, and the analysis of his phone."

Of course, he would pull that shit.

The Girl left already and won't be back before morning.

It's a dick move, but they have the right to lock anyone up for twelve hours while the investigation happens. Baldie doesn't even protest, what a letdown.

"Have a good one, Chief, let me take it from here." That's all he says, and the other cop slams the door as he leaves.

Now it's only the two of us, and he shakes his head.

"That last remark about her was unnecessary. Annie's the Commander's daughter."

"This guy's?" Nodding toward the door with eyes wide, the question triggers his laugh.

It's hard to tell in the dark if they look alike, but no way the Girl who was so nice is in any way related to a dick like the Old Fox.

Baldie shakes his head too, giggling.

"No, that's the Chief Inspector." He explains, walking to the safe with the keys the Fox threw at him.

"She's the Commander's daughter. The Big Boss, - not the station's, the whole Rotterdam Police. And he transferred the Chief here a week ago to keep an eye on her."

This info makes me sweat.

Imagine fondling the daughter of the police Final Boss. It's understandable why her guardian wants blood, yet why did she help?

Her report's the only thing that allows me to get away with this, and she never talked about the Kid to the others.

"Here's your controller." The box Baldie throws stops this train of thought.

It's hard to catch it with the handcuffs and mind elsewhere.

"Are you into games?"

"You already asked."

The box has a picture of a SoniSung headset, advertised in huge letters.

Ads pop up on YouCube because it's premium; it does something extra for a price too high to dream about.

"Is it okay to take this home? It's a rough neighborhood."

Nobody in the slums could put their hands on one, and it hits.

The Thin asked about these saying someone bought them in bulk, and Boss told us it's too well guarded.

This has to be one of those fed-related things and it's crazy that they give one as a parting gift.

"Can't remember every little detail." The Baldie shrugs and undoes the chain tying to the chair while keeping the handcuffs.

"Yes, these are yours, GPS tracked, and registered to your biometrics. So are you a gamer? Do you have a console or something at home?"

"Nah, only a salvaged PC that can't run anything serious. It can play YouCube videos on better days, and that's all."

It's only good to look up shady stuff that he doesn't need to know.

"So you never tried one of these either?"

"A VR headset in the arcades, if that counts."

He scoffs and nods at the door.

"Hey um, if you already throw such expensive toys around, can you give an actual cig too, please?"

"You can't smoke here. You're too young anyway, you'll get cancer."

"My mother died in it and never smoked."

He freezes as if wanting to say something like 'my condolences', so the next sentence stops him.

"Might as well enjoy the taste before dying in the same. It kills slower than the heart attack that other cop almost gave here."

"Nobody forced you to do crime, did they?"

He should know better, and the answer is a shrug again.

"The best offer's another one of those gums while you spend the night here. You can have a phone call instead if you want to call your dad or something."

"Nah, he's out to buy milk. Won't miss me."

"He buys milk in the middle of the night?" If Baldie doesn't get it, he has to look it up himself.

In the end, he could change his mind and put me in an institute instead of this crime prevention crap.

This nicotine gum tastes even worse than the one the Girl gave.

Annie.

It's an enigma what's her deal, and these palms can still feel the shape of her breasts.

And she has to be the daughter of the main bad guy, this is nuts.

We arrive at the guard house, a huge dude's alone there, and it's a mystery how he passed his medical exams.

It would be easier to jump over him than to walk around, and he sweats like crazy.

He sits behind a desk with a large display and a few other high-tech devices yet pulls out a thick sheet of paper.

He scribbles all the info on the form with a pencil.

Upon closer inspection, it's two sheets with carbon paper between them.

It makes you wonder how ancient they can get.

He takes inventory of everything, including the new box.

"Okay, he's in your care. Don't go too hard on him, Fennec had a bad day."

Baldie says, and it's unbelievable that even his name's Fox-related.

"He needs to spend the night."

"Sure thing, he has to pull out his shoelaces and everything from the pockets as usual." Fatty claims, to act as important as someone with his attributes can.

What does he expect people to do with the shoelaces anyway?

"You didn't mean him to set the player up tonight, right?"

"No no, that's his. Write up ten credits too, and we'll bring the paperwork by the time he's released." Ten credits he says?

That's a better deal than the Boss hoped from the stupid ration heist.

It can buy two packs of smoke and leave some change to throw into the slot machines.

Or buy some food, because unlike Fatty, eating every day is quite a luxury for some.

The guard offers the sheet and recoils when he sees me take it with the right hand and sign it with the other.

"Okay, that's all." His expression is blank and bored, foreshadowing how the next hours will go.

They never handed over the confession, and Baldie's gone, so it's too late to ask him about it.

Fatty only cares about confiscating all the stuff anyway.

"So this is the guard house." He explains, opening a heavy steel door.

That short sentence also exhibits all the furniture. It has four blank walls, an ugly PVC floor, and a small barred window up high.

The lack of doorknobs on the inside renews the stomach cramp attacks.