Don’t let the crook checkmate you.
Beryllium Laboratories, Stag City - 9:31 AM - October 11, 2022
“What did he do this time?”
“Stole some blueprints. Apparently, it’s a prototype for a pocket-sized generator that can produce three times as much power in ten seconds as a nuclear plant can in five years.”
“Sounds like something he’d be stealing.”
It’s a typical day for Alex North. Standing in some laboratory or another, listening to cops telling him that Randall Bishop has gotten away again, with some priceless piece of technology.
“Let me guess. He left without a trace?”
“No, sir. He left behind-“
“A chess pawn”
“Yes, sir. Should we-“
“Don’t scan it for fingerprints. It’s always his left index. I’ve seen it all before.”
“Yes, sir. How about-“
“The security cameras go out before he makes his move. Don’t bother.”
“Ok, sir. What if we-“
“The security guards won’t help. They’re unconscious before Bishop even sees them.”
“Actually, sir, I was going to say that we could-“
“Whatever you’re about to say, think for a second. Do you think that we haven’t thought of it? We’ve tried everything. It’s like the man doesn’t even exist.”
“Sir, with all due respect, maybe we need a fresh pair of eyes. Perhaps I could help with that?”
“Absolutely not. I will not bring anyone else into this wild goose chase.”
“Please, sir, just give me a chance. I know someone who can help.”
Alex suddenly sees a chance to get rid of someone who may steal his title of head detective of the Stag City Police Department, so he he takes it without a second thought.
“Fine. But if your ‘fresh pair of eyes’ fails to solve the case in 48 hours, you will resign.”
The cop’s eyes widen for a second, but he stands his ground, just as Alex expected. Until the cop does something Alex didn’t expect.
“And if he does solve the case,” the man says confidently, “You will resign, but not before handing your title of head detective to me.”
Alex thinks for a moment. His title would be in jeopardy, but nobody could possibly solve this case in just two days.
Alex shakes hands with the officer. “I look forward to your resignaton, Mr...”
He quickly glances at the man’s name tag. “...Trent”
“Likewise, Mr. North.”
And then, Officer Trent walks away confidently not bothering to look back.
The next morning, Alex wakes up to yet another Randall Bishop case. Apparently, this time, he’s stolen a device capable of opening the government’s most advanced lock, undetected. However, his anger at Randall for escaping again is not there. Today, it is replaced by his excitement to see Mr. Trent’s ‘fresh eyes’.
He breaks out of his trance as an officer approaches him.
“Sir, Officer Trent would like to speak with you. He’s at the front of the building.”
Nodding in response, Alex walks to the front of the building. His excitement and curiosity bubble up again, giving him an extra spring in his step.
He stops at the front of the building, both surprised and disappointed to see Mr. Trent standing at the front of the building, alone.
“Where’s your fresh eyes? Smart enough to no-show?”
“Fresh eyes?” Mr. Trent responds in a strange British accent. “When Lyla told me that your time period has peculiar customs, I did not expect her to mean that you future folk eat eyeballs! That is positively gruesome! And, you’re going to have to explain who no-show is, I haven’t met but a single person, save you, who I met mere minutes ago!”
“Trent, what is going on here? You have thirty seconds to explain.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest notion. Although, I do have a message that Nathaniel asked me to deliver for you.”
Mr. Trent pulls a crumpled note out of his pocket and hands it to Alex, who reads it in disbelief.
To Alex North,
You said you needed fresh eyes for this case, so I brought you some. Theres a woman named Lyla Brewer who has been studying ‘mind control’ for the past 13 years. She talked me through the science, but I didn’t understand any of it. She just hooked me up to some wires and managed to get my ancestor into my head. He was the best detective of his time, so he should be good help. And don’t worry, in 48 hours, he’ll be gone and I’ll be back. So, these are your fresh eyes! Oh, and just a warning, he’s from 1898, the late Victorian Era. Enjoy!
-Nate Trent
His hands shaking, Alex speaks to the once-dead man.
“Who...Who are you?”
The man gets down on one knee and bows his head.
“Darrell Trent, at your service.”

Keep Reading

Chapter 2

Birchwood Apartment Complex, Room 2518, Stag City - 3:44 AM - October 13, 2022

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