Free It Sometimes Snows In May: A B.E.A.N. Police Novella by Tope Oluwole Page B

forward, leaning towards Morefishco. “Do I need to call your superiors?”
     
    “Don’t take it personally. After the week I’ve had, I’d ask Jesus Christ for I-D, and he can walk on water.” Morefishco slides a print scanner in front of Elisa.
     
    Elisa straightens up, and places her right hand on the scanner.
     
    “I guess you don’t get net news here in Ispari?” Aalin says.
     
    Morefishco swivels to Aalin. “We do, but I figured why let a few million dollars worth of technology collect dust. On a net-paper display, Elisa’s identification and credentials are verified. Her dossier includes the name and picture of her husband.
     
    “Zota...Citysun. I didn’t think he was a John”, Morefishco says.
     
    “Now that we’ve established my identity, I would like to see my husband, now,” Elisa says.
     
    Morefishco glances at his PDA momentarily as if to will it to chime with a news flash of Zota’s capture.
     
    “Well, he’s going to be under observation for at least another hour…” Morefishco says.
     
    “Observation?” Elisa asks.
     
    Morefishco holds up his bands. “Just as a precaution, so the department isn’t liable for anything that happens to Zota, after we release him into your custody.”
     
    “You’re stalling,” Aalin says.
     
    “Am I?” Morefishco says.
     
    “Yes. What I want to know is why,” Aalin says.
     
    “Departmental protocol.” Morefishco shrugs. “I’m just a cog in the system. I know you understand.”
     
    “That’s bull!” Aalin says.
     
    “You think I want to keep a three-month-old John Doe case open? Believe me, It’ll be good riddance!” Morefishco turns to Elisa. “No offence.”
     
    “None taken,” Elisa responds.
     
    “You sure I can’t get you both a cup of coffee?” Morefishco asks, and gestures again to the mini-bar. Elisa shakes her head. “You’re pretty lucky you know? No sign of your husband in three months, and one sunny morning, blam. It must have been tough. I figured you’d be luckier and find him sooner. I’m sure you spent the last three months looking under every rock for him.”
     
    Elisa’s eyes go vacant and then flicker red. Morefishco doesn’t notice.
     
    “ Relax! He doesn’t suspect a thing. He’s just a graying civil servant, grasping at straws, ” the voice hisses inside Elisa head.
     
    “Guard Morefishco, I have been more than patient under the circumstances. Now, I would like to see my husband, please,” Elisa says.
     
    Morefishco looks to Elisa and then to Aalin and back. “I’ll check with my men at the hospital.” Morefishco picks up his PDA and pings Patel.
     
     
    A red temp car pulls into the parking lot of East Ispari Hospital. Once parked, one of Director of Protocol’s heavies pops the trunk remotely. He casually strolls to the rear of the temp car, smiles and carefully lifts Ryles out of the trunk, and places her on her feet. Ryles knees buckle, and the heavy catches her and stands her upright. After taking a moment to straighten her up, the heavy passes Ryles her PDA.
     
    Ryles approaches the entrance of the emergency room, her face weathered. She swipes an entry on her PDA and initiates a call.
     
     
    Patel watches Zota stride into the parking lot of East Ispari Hospital. He glances to his left, and right, and then over his shoulder, pulling the duffel bag he’s carrying closer to his body. “I’m looking at him right now chief. Misses Brown also just showed up to, with company. Yes, we are going to need back-up. One is a cyborg.”
     
    Patel ends the call, and then sighs. Practice look to Patel with anticipation. “What did the chief say?”
     
    “The John Doe is Zota Citysun, some New Mass politician’s husband. He wants us to protect him at all costs,” Patel says.
     
    “What?” Practice asks.
     
    “The chief wants us to bring Citysun to HQ once we get the all clear ,” Patel says. “That’s code for: thing are about to get very messy, so watch your ass