“I hate Driver,” Brad grumbled.
“Why?” Agent Moto asked as he readjusted the night vision goggles.
“Kai,” Brad growled. “You cannot honestly tell me that you enjoy chasing down a bad tip that involved ghost sightings along with a fugitive?”
“The spirits don’t feel malicious,” Kai observed.
“You believe in ghosts?” Brad asked sarcastically.
“Agent Driver assigns us to what we can do,” Kai said, ignoring his partner’s sarcasm.
“I’m not a ghost hunter,” Agent James mumbled.
Kai sighed and continued to search the caved in subway tunnel for signs of recent life. According to the information that Agent Driver had given them, there had been reports of an eccentric fugitive living in this area. The fugitive was not considered exceptionally dangerous, so long as he was not upset. The file reported that this fugitive belonged in a mental institution, and also that bright lights annoyed him which was the reason for the night vision goggles.
Agent James grumbled again, but Kai ignored it. Brad liked to complain, but he always got the job done. Personally, Kai actually liked the agency. Kazei had been allowed to bring some agents with him when he transferred over to become the director of what everyone called the crazy cops. Agent Moto had felt honored that Kazei trusted him enough to invite him as one of two agents he was going to bring with him. It had been several weeks later when Kai had found out that everyone else had been rejected by the crazy cop agency or else they had turned down the invitation.
“There are rats,” Agent James sighed. “So, how long do you plan on poking around in the empty dark? There’s nothing here except for rats, crap, and death by falling debris.”
“We can’t see what’s on the other side of this rubble,” Kai said. “Something is moving though. Listen.”
Brad knelt down next to Kai and listened for the odd noise in the echoing tunnel. Agent Moto was a little annoyed that the banging had stopped right when Brad had stopped complaining. The tunnel echoed with dripping water and scurrying rodents. Occasionally there was the sound of fabric against fabric as one of the agents shifted. With both agents not saying a word, though, any other noise was pretty noticeable.
“Sounds like a drunk,” Brad muttered when a voice was heard, muffled through the debris.
“Could be our man,” Kai suggested.
“Do you know the tunnel layout?” Agent James asked. “I don’t want to spend five hours trying to find a passage to someone who’s just going to be passed out.”
“There should be a maintenance shaft that runs alongside,” Kai hypothesized. “There’s got to be a door somewhere along the tunnel.”
It took them about fifteen minutes to find an access point and another forty to reach the other side. The tunnel looked lived in, as if someone had found this little section and decided to convert it into a home or a mad scientist laboratory. Things were piled everywhere and the eclectic mess had everything and anything Agent Moto could imagine. There looked to be computers and bats with nails alongside pink plastic ponies and moldy bread.
“This could be anyone’s place,” Agent James grumbled. “It’s pitch black. Can you make out anything?”
“Listen,” Kai whispered.
Down toward the other end of the tunnel, the sounds of life could be heard echoing from behind piles of rubble and junk. Brad did have a point, though. The person making the noise could be anything from a street waif to a drug dealer. It could be their target, but it also might not. The only way of affirming the identity of the noise maker would be for the agents to make their way through the maze of random debris. Kai took a step forward and suddenly found himself jerked back by Agent James.
“Trip wire,” Brad said as he bent down and readjusted his night vision goggles.
Uh oh again.
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