“How was work?” said the soft voice behind him.
“Hi, Mum. Work was fine.”
“That’s good,” she said as she prepared two cups by the kettle.
“Everything okay, Daniel?” He looked over his shoulder to see his father entering the kitchen.
“Yep, everything is good. How are you two?”
“Fine, still working hard,” said his father. “How was your trip to London? Court case interesting?”
“It was good. Very informative. I should be getting some notes on the progress of the case sent to me, then I can tell you more about it.”
“I look forward to that,” said his father.
“We were expecting you home earlier yesterday,” said his mother. “Were the trains running okay? We had heavy snow here by the coast.”
“The snow got quite heavy in London as well. I stayed for a drink with another investor; he’s rather clued up on the finer details of the case.”
“That’s nice,” she said, “I bet the Christmas lights looked good.” His mother had always loved Christmas, all aspects of the festive season were relished every year when it came around.
“You would like it. There were no lights up by the courts but most places had them on.”
“Your dinner is in the oven,” said his mother. Daniel glanced over at the black double cooker along the back wall. The dish was illuminated through the tinted door, and the scent of spices lingered in the air. His mouth was watering at the prospect.
“Will it be okay for when I get back?” asked Daniel.
“Where are you going?” his father queried.
“For a run.”
“Tonight? There are no street lights, it’s freezing and you will probably end up on your backside before you even start,” said his father.
“I won’t be long, I feel wide awake now, so a half hour jog won’t hurt. The lanes are well gritted and there is no snow on the roads.”
“Rather you than me,” said his father. “Have you got work tomorrow?”
“Yes, one more week and then I’m off for Christmas,” said Daniel whilst rubbing his hands.
“Have you done all of your Christmas shopping?” asked his mother.
“I have, actually.” Daniel paused to think whether he had. That’s a first, he thought. Every year he would need to dash out on Christmas Eve to get most of the presents for his family. The same time every year but it still seems to creep up on me.
“So you don’t want me to pick anything up for you in town tomorrow?”
“Nope, I’m organised this year.”
“Well then, you’re doing better than me this year. I’ve got lots to get,” his mother replied. From the expression on his father’s face Daniel could read his mind. You have a long Saturday ahead of you tomorrow, Dad, and you know it.
Daniel finished his coffee, appreciative of the taste – a distinctively different drink from that out of work’s machine. He changed into clothes more suitable for the task at hand. Whilst he was stretching at the front door his mother gave him some advice.
“Be careful, it’s slippery out there,” she warned. Daniel laughed off her concern.
“It’s not that bad,” he said, “maybe on the pavements but that’s about it.”
“How are you going to see?” Daniel pulled his hood down to reveal a beanie hat with a head torch strapped to it.
“Like I always do in the night,” he said pointing to the head torch. “I would never want to be without this on a night run.” He turned the torch on and off, nearly blinding his mother, who was staring straight at the halogen bulb.
“Okay, don’t be long otherwise your food will be ruined.”
In the shower Daniel massaged his calf. I feel like I’ve torn it. Whilst digging his thumb into the base of the muscle he circulated his digit round one way, and back the other. I won’t be admitting how bloody slippery it was out there. The strain to his lower leg was a result of fighting ice and gravity. He managed to stay bipedal throughout but not without cost. The hot droplets of the shower filled the bathroom with steam. The small space became a sauna and the lethargic feeling returned. His head rested against the white tiles and he thought of her. The woman, the working girl. Him just her client, a few hours of fantasy, as it should stay. Susana shouldn’t be on his mind and he knew it. He imagined her touch once more, he could feel her soft fingers caress his cheek, that moment imprinted in his mind and encapsulated by his senses. Come on, man, snap out of it. The self-help sentence worked like a slap, enough to remind him he had a curry to take on before going to bed.
Daniel got out of the shower, dressed and walked to the kitchen. He sat at the same stool he had perched on earlier in the evening, with the dish before him.
“Is it still okay?” his mother asked.
“It’s perfect.”
“Did I see you limping a minute ago?”
“No,” he replied.
“Okay then, I’m off to bed. Goodnight,” she said.
“Goodnight. Try not to wear Dad out tomorrow,” he called. His mother laughed as she left the kitchen.
Daniel savoured the spice of each mouthful. It was hotter than he was expecting. The glass of water was depleted quickly. He lifted the fork to his mouth and froze for a moment. The final mouthful of rice, varied spices and a succulent piece of lamb suspended in front of his lips. He breathed in deep, the spicy aroma tingled his nostrils. He could sense a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Another escaping down his cheek. His throat was radiating heat. He triumphed, and pushed the plate away.
He sat looking around the kitchen whilst his core temperature cooled. He admired the oak cupboards crafted by his father, the meticulous detail in the embossed floral pattern of each door. He noticed a strange arrangement on the marble surface at the back of the kitchen. What’s going on with that? Daniel walked over to the point of interest. On closer inspection he could make out what it was, but not why anyone would do it.
“Hey, man.” Daniel jumped; his younger brother startled him. He was so engrossed in the ridiculousness of what he was looking at he didn’t hear Matt enter.
“Hi, Matt.”
“It’s just a little experiment,” he said whilst laughing. He clearly was not serious.
His brother was four years the younger. He was always making something, taking something apart, or finding weird ideas and implementing them in some way. He was a natural artist, keen musician and fond of popular science and silly experiments.
“Here’s my forensic take on events,” said Daniel. “Franken veg was alive and well. You killed him in the kitchen. Method: stabbing. Weapon: nail. Motive: you never had a reason to kill.”
“It’s a potato clock,” said Matt. “You may look at me like that, it is a waste of time, but I was bored.”
“A potato clock.”
“I’m afraid so. A potato, a few nails, copper wires and crocodile clips. An LED display and it does work,” said Matt.
“Next time just ask me for a couple of batteries, I’ve got spares,” said Daniel.
“It’s only ten minutes of my life wasted,” said Matt.
“Don’t forget the poor potato you have wasted,” said Daniel. “You have made a lot of cool things over the years. I’m sorry to say this isn’t one of them.” The pair laughed. “I’m off to bed, see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight,” said Matt.
Daniel lay in bed with his computer by his side. A portable entertainment system that he used for everything. Movies, music research, it was almost part of the furniture. He opened his emails to see one from Gavin. He didn’t waste any time. Pages upon pages of case details, company info and Gavin’s own educated hypothesis on events. The man’s legendary for sending over so much. He began to scroll through the wealth of information. He realised the need to make it quick as he was due up for work in a matter of hours.
How long has that been on? he thought whilst inspecting the webcam. The blue light surrounding the camera was alight. Th
at’s not normal. He began searching the desktop. The webcam’s not even on. It’s definitely not on. This computer has been playing up for a while, maybe it’s just a malfunction. He stared at the blue light not knowing what to do. Shit, what if someone is controlling it? Has someone just tapped in this moment by luck maybe? What should I do? Shut it down. He was startled and began to talk to himself. Maybe it’s a hacker, looking for personal information. Daniel had little understanding of hacking. No one is going to hack me. Why would they? Maybe they’re stealing. I haven’t got anything to steal. Daniel poked his tongue out at the screen for a few moments and the light went off. How to solve a misfiring computer? Poke your tongue out at it. Daniel closed the laptop, he felt uneasy but in reality he didn’t really believe he had been hacked. The timing’s too perfect. How could they time it just as I turn the damn thing on? I’m being paranoid, it was just a glitch.
Over the following days Daniel would occasionally think about what had happened. It would come in and out of his mind. Undisturbed by the event but a seed planted all the same. Sometimes he would do something out of character in front of his computer to see if the light would come on again so he could show Matt. Matt would say it was a malfunction, putting his mind at ease; he was sure he would say it was a glitch. Most of the time he would forget it, but occasionally he would do something random.
The long days behind the wheel were taking their toll, adding to his stresses. He couldn’t wait to have time off. He looked forward to spending time with family over Christmas. He blocked out the unusual banter from colleagues, although he felt they might be behind it if he was being hacked.
Daniel didn’t manage to attend the court that week as he had hoped, the reason being that he was persuaded into doing overtime that day. That Wednesday, the day he had planned to travel to London, he felt upset. Not because he had missed the court case but because he missed Susana. He was unwinding in his room after a long day and thought of her. I could have been lying next to her now. Her soft voice, sweet smell and sensual touch. Instead I’m here thinking about the fact I start at five tomorrow morning.
Daniel looked in the mirror; he began to think of how he greets Susana. He analysed his mannerisms, as he felt the need to boost his confidence. Coolness isn’t learnt in the mirror, he thought. He glanced over at the laptop on his bed. The blue light wasn’t on but the discomfort that it might come on unbeknown to him was a little unsettling. He walked over to close it. Imagine that, someone tapping in and looking at you talking to yourself in the mirror.
Together
Daniel walked alongside his drinking partner, the pair staggering as they traversed through the town centre. The haze from his altered perception making each step challenging in his quest to maintain upright. The street lighting helped guide their way along the cobblestones. They were not alone, fellow revellers had left their drinking haunts, each with their own battle to stay on their feet. A man down an ally to their right was paying the price for his night of excess, Daniel not sober enough to notice. Snowflakes fell to the pathway, melting on arrival, losing to the smattering of grit that had been dispersed earlier that evening.
“Here we are,” said Vince as they approached a woman braving the cold. She wore a parka jacket with her hood shielding her cheeks.
“We need a cab,” Daniel told the woman. She studied her clipboard.
“There will be one back in a few minutes,” she said.
“Thanks,” said Daniel.
Vince was rubbing his clean shaven cheeks in an attempt to warm them. “I will wait here with you,” said Vince, “it’s only a short walk back to my place.”
“Wake me up when my cab gets here, then,” suggested Daniel with his head resting on the cab office window.
“That was a good night,” said Vince.
“I think I’m going to feel it in the morning.”
“You were going for it on the dance floor, mate.”
“That must explain the funny looks I’ve been getting all night,” said Daniel.
“I gave you funny looks as well,” said Vince.
“With enough drinks in me I’m not too proud to hit the dance floor. Once you get going it doesn’t matter what’s playing.”
“We should go there more often,” said Vince.
“I didn’t understand what that young woman was saying about the internet,” said Daniel.
“I heard that. I don’t know what she meant by it, mate,” replied Vince.
“I asked her what she meant, but she poked her tongue out and walked off.”
“I saw a couple of people poke their tongue out at you; what’s that about?” asked Vince.
“I don’t have a clue,” said Daniel. “I’ve been experiencing all kinds of strange things recently. A couple of drivers have been really off with me. Is there a joke going around about me or something?”
“I don’t know,” said Vince. “I go to work, do my job and go home again. I don’t get involved in work politics, and hardly go into the mess room. If there was something going around I would be the last to know.”
“If you find out before me, let me know.”
“Will do, mate.”
“I’m getting a pit paranoid. Personal information seems to be doing the rounds. Info that I can’t see how other drivers are privy to.”
“Maybe you told me and I told them,” said Vince.
Daniel’s head began to spin. The street lamp opposite kept moving. The more he tried to focus on it, the faster it travelled. “Hold on a moment,” said Daniel whilst rubbing his forehead. “Ian, it was Ian. Life’s Journal, he told me. He knew where I had been on my day off, something I didn’t publicise.”
“I didn’t think you were on Life’s Journal.”
“I’m not. So who’s writing about me on there?”
“I don’t have a profile on the site either, mate, so I can’t even check for you. I never go out drinking with anyone else from work so I’m as baffled as you. Try typing in your name on the net.”
“I tried that,” said Daniel. “I couldn’t find anything.”
The woman with the clipboard waved at him. “Your car’s here,” she called.
“Have a good Christmas, Vince.”
“You too, mate. I should have put that bet on. It’s going to be a white Christmas after all.”
Daniel shook Vince’s hand and staggered toward the red Mondeo.
“I wouldn’t worry about work, mate,” Vince called out. “I’m sure it will become clear.”
Daniel turned and attempted to focus on the silhouette of his colleague standing in front of the cab office window. “I think one of them might be hacking me,” he called back. Vince laughed as Daniel struggled to enter the cab.
Calmly he scanned the vicinity. The room was empty. He had already searched the fourteenth floor; it was clear. The windows were no more, glass fragments lay across the floor. He slowly walked to the window and examined the damage outside. He soaked in as much information as he could. The building over to the far right was now a heap of rubble. The streets were empty but the sound of gunfire was continual. Peering out of the window he could see the trees gently swaying, the leaves dancing to the breeze. He could feel nothing and could sense no air movement. The only senses at his disposal were sight and sound; they hadn’t failed him so far. This is the spot.
He lifted the M98B, his sniper rifle of choice, and pointed it toward a building still standing beyond the park. The flash of a gun barrel had not a second before highlighted the sixth floor window for him. His retina lined up with the scope. 40x zoom was perfect for the distance. No sign of his target. The debris filled the air, his vision tainted by grey dust particles refusing to settle. Movement. His target was not stationary, he was moving back and forth in a panic. The target found refuge away from the window. Damn, I should have taken the shot. With only one bullet left the marksman needed precision. He’s back. The target jerked, left to right. The marksman had elevation, from the fourteenth floor, he was com
fortable with the angle. He fired. Missed.
He knew all he had now was his sidearm for protection. He reached to equip the M9 pistol. He didn’t feel the hand grab his shoulder and pull him around. In the blink of an eye he was now facing an enemy. He didn’t feel the blade thrust into his chest. He felt nothing as his enemy’s weapon penetrated deep into his body.
“Shit.” You sneaky bastard. Oblivious to the enemy in the room. Daniel threw the control pad onto the floor and shut the games console down. Never play a first person shooter whilst pissed. I had better get some sleep if I want to see any of Christmas Day tomorrow. Daniel was out the second his head hit the pillow.
There was knocking at the door. Daniel tried to open his eyes; they felt glued shut.
“Are you getting up today?” his mum called. “There’s a bacon sandwich on the go if you want one.”
“I will be up in a minute,” he called back.
Daniel rose out of bed, aimed for the shower then dressed in a shirt and jeans. He entered the kitchen to find his mother, father and younger brother sitting around the island unit.
“Merry Christmas,” they said together.
“Merry Christmas,” Daniel replied. He hugged his mother and kissed her on the cheek, then went to shake his father’s and brother’s hands in traditional fashion. He eyed his bacon sandwich and took his seat to devour the breakfast.
“Did you have a good night?” his mother asked.
“It was good, strange but good.”
“Strange?” she queried.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing of importance. What time is everyone coming up?”
“They are going to let the kids open their presents,” said his father. “Then they are going to head to us.”
“That will be nice,” said Daniel. “So they will be here for dinner.”
Adapt Page 3
