Just then, the lieutenant walked around the corner of the office hallway at the end of the room. With a husky build, slicked-back, greying brown hair and a grey-blue uniform stood Lieutenant Miles Golda. He took off his black hat and itched his mustache. “Olivers, you’re back. Is this our man?”

“Yes, sir. Car #14 should be back soon with the vehicle.”

Miles peered over her shoulder. “What…Tarik?”

“Evening, Lieutenant,” he said with a smirk.

“What in the hell are you doin’ sittin’ there, cuffed like that?”

“I’m sorry, do you know this man?” Olivers said.

“Before I confirm or deny, maybe I ought to hear what happened. Bring him back to the interrogation room. We’ll get some info before the others get back.”

Tarik jumped up. “Miles?”

Miles pushed Tarik forward and whispered in his ear. “Shh, just walk. Officer Verns, hold my calls for the next few hours,” he said to a passing officer.

The three of them walked into the dark room and locked the door. Miles took off his hat and sat down at the table next to Olivers, while Tarik sat adjacent. “Alright, Olivers, give your testimony first, then I’ll hear from Mr. Sandori.”

“Miles, is this really necessary?”

“Quiet, Mr. Sandori. Lieutenant, I approached this man after he drove through the security lanes unauthorized. He then proceeded to tell me his grandson has been kidnapped, and that he was looking for someone here in Senigot for assistance. I searched the vehicle and found the damaged remains of an unusual machine in the rear of his pick-up,” she said.

“Miles, I—”

“Patience, Tarik.” Miles lifted up the hefty background report, skimming through its contents. “What would you say—three, four years?”

“Pardon?”

“Last time I heard any mention of your name was around four years ago. To be honest, I was hoping whatever problems you had would’ve gone with you.”

Tarik threw up his hands. “How can you say that? We’re friends.”

Miles looked up from the document pages and saw the watery film welling in Tarik’s angst-ridden eyes. “I probably know the answer, but who was it that kidnapped your grandson, Mr. Sandori?”

“It was one of them! Miles, you couldn’t have forgotten everything that happened!”

“If I may, Lieutenant?” Olivers asked.

“Go ahead.”

“Speaking off the record, are you two really acquaintances?”

Miles closed the file and set it aside. “Well, we’re more than that. The reality is I’ve known this man for over twenty years.”

Olivers’ eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

Miles sighed. “Yes. He worked down the street from my old restaurant on West Lombard. We’ve been through quite a bit, especially in regards to the Arugian War.”

“Unbelievable,” Olivers said. “You mean to tell me this was the man you were looking for?”

“I told you,” Tarik said, trying to stave off a tear.

Miles stood up and paced, running his hands over his hair. “What I can’t believe is those things are still coming back to haunt us.”

“They never left, Miles. You know as well as I that they’re real.”

“Wait, what?” Olivers said.

The frustrated lieutenant sat harshly in his chair, rolling back slightly from the force. “This is the last thing we need right now. Everything’s finally gotten back to normal. Why is it that danger always follows you, Tarik?”

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for anything, it’s just a bad time.”

“Why?”

“The war really put this city through the wringer. With new expansion in the works, the mayor’s put a lot of pressure on us regarding public safety. Now that he’s in his last term, he’s staked his re-election on this venture.”

Tarik stood up sharply. “Hey, I just lost my grandson! This is more important than winning a popularity contest! I didn’t ask for any of this!”

Miles cupped his hands. “Tarik, please try to calm down. We’ll do all we can. Understand this: our forces are powerless against those monsters.”

“Monsters? Wait, you weren’t lying before?” Olivers said with a gasp.

Tarik looked at her, his fists shaking. “I refuse to sit here and dredge up ancient history! Miles, can you help me or not?”

“Have a seat. Officer Olivers, would you excuse us for a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll be outside.” She walked out of the room.

Tarik stomped the floor. “Miles, just what the hell are you doing? Drop the act, damn it!”

“Tarik, please. There’s only so much we can do. Now tell me, what was it you found?”

“You mean the machine?”

“Yes. You say you have no idea where it came from?”

“None. When that creature took off with Kori, there was some floating machine following it. Found it destroyed in a field near Route 72. I got pictures.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, on my phone.”

Miles took the radio out of his shirt pocket. “Olivers, come on back.” As she entered, he stood up. “Olivers, release Mr. Sandori, if you would.”

“Right.” She pulled out her keychain and unlocked the handcuffs, setting them on the table.

“Can you show us the pictures?” Miles said.

“Sure.” Tarik slowly took out his cell phone and pulled up the photos. Olivers watched him as he set the phone on the table.

“Hmm, I can see slash marks—looks like that creature must’ve knocked it down,” Miles said.

“Does it look familiar?” Olivers asked.

“Not immediately, but this sticker on the back raises some eyebrows.” Miles zoomed in and showed her.

“Aiga? Wait, it that referring to Donovan Aiga?”

“I’m certain. This makes sense now. After Donovan resigned as mayor he leased an abandoned warehouse on Grandin Street for his research,” Miles replied.

“So this is something he built?” Tarik said.

“It seems so. I heard rumors of him wanting to build robot drones for the army. This must be one of them.”

“So these drones are licensed to roam the skies for military purposes?” Olivers asked skeptically.

Miles shrugged. “Honestly I haven’t kept tabs on Donovan for a while, but it’s not like him to create something like this without proper clearance. We should pay him a visit just to make sure. Olivers, can you pull up his number from the database?”

She left the room while they continued talking.

“Okay, so now that we’ve got a lead, I really need your help.”

“I don’t want to be negative, Tarik, but we’ve got no way to track that thing. Who knows where it is now.”

Tarik cupped his forehead. “There’s got to be a way. Wait, can’t you set up a search party or something?”

“Well…”

“What?”

“We can assemble a team, after the mayor approves it.”

“Why does the mayor need to be involved?”

“Searches can take anywhere from weeks to months at a time. We can’t leave everything in flux,” Miles said.

“Hell…what about the Senigot army?”

“That might be the better option. Their troops are better trained for long-term missions like this. Again, it can be done, but Mayor Bricker has to green-light it.”

Tarik sighed. “How long will that take?”

“Hopefully by the end of the night.”

Tarik hushed for a moment, clutching his black jeans with his fists. Miles stepped from around the table and put his hands on his friend’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard, man. We’ll get a search party out there as soon as we can.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t forget what happened all those years ago. God knows I’ve tried,” Miles said, trying to laugh. “It’s our turn to help you out.”

“Thank you.”

Olivers walked back in as they finished sharing a friendly hug. “Lieutenant, I’ve got Mr. Aiga’s information here.”

“Thank you. As of right now, Mr. Sandori is under our observation, but without charges. We’re going to visit Donovan to see if we can get to the bottom of this. Let’s get moving.”

The three of them left the room and stepped into his office. Miles made some abrupt phone calls and grabbed his car keys. “Tarik, you’ll ride with me. Olivers, follow us.” He locked his office and they walked back into the main booking area. “I’m stepping out on important business,” he said as he passed the windows. “Keep everything down until I return.” They left the building and walked beneath the darkening sky to the parking lot. The officers separated and boarded their vehicles. Miles dug out his radio. “Car #14, do you copy?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m driving a colleague of mine down to Donovan Aiga’s place. Park Mr. Sandori’s truck in the rear lot, see to it that nothing happens to it. As for the machine, bag it as evidence for now.”

“Roger.”

Miles fiddled with some of the technology on the dashboard, then ignited the engine. “First thing we’ll do is get some answers from Donovan, then visit the mayor. We’ll get this search underway soon, my friend.”

Tarik kept silent as they drove out of the lot, staring out the window at the moon. Night crowds roamed about beneath the neon lights shimmering throughout the city’s many shopping and entertainment venues. The two police cars drove casually through the streets and intersections. Through Tarik’s tinted window he watched groups of streetwalkers gallivanting, having fun, carrying shopping bags, and loitering around different storefronts, some people more boisterous than others. His teeth gripped while the car braked and accelerated intermittently, jerking him back and forward. “Can’t you guys just flash your lights and get us through this shit faster?”

Miles chortled. “Wish I could. There ain’t no need to. That’d just be abusing our authority.”

“Oh come on, the entire time you’ve been a cop you’re tellin’ me you’ve never blared your sirens to cruise through rush hour?”

“I’m not at liberty to dispense that information,” Miles said, trying to keep a straight face.

Tarik sneered. “Hmph. Thought so.”

“We’ll be there soon, old buddy.”

Tarik leaned his arm out the window. “Whatever happened to old Higonji?”

“Man, the mayor finally had it paved for new roads and off-ramps. Folks out west came into town to help jumpstart the economy. The rest of it’s just more malls and townhouses now.”

“Wow. Hell, I forgot just how much happened around here. Nothin’ looks the same.”

Mile nodded. “Looks a lot better than it did five years ago. Bricker’s really held a tight grip over things.”

“What kinda guy’s this Bricker?”

“In some ways he’s a lot like Donovan was—blunt and forceful. Given the partial mess he had to clean up, he’s done pretty well so far.”

The car rolled through the streets, finally turning left on Grandin Street. They passed through an intersection and pulled along the side of the street. Tarik peered through the window as they parked out front of a three-leveled parking garage next to a hardware store and used book store. “Is this it?”

“Other side,” Miles said, turning off the ignition.

Tarik looked the other direction across the street and saw a wide, single-level storehouse with secured doors and only three tinted windows at the facade.

“Let’s see if we can figure this out,” Miles said.

They rejoined Olivers down the street and they crossed to the other side, standing in front of the seemingly dim warehouse. The dark window had a sign in lettering that read: Aiga Innovations. A phone number and internet address also appeared in smaller lettering. The exterior comprised of layers of painted black brick and bulbous, overhead light fixtures that struck the night sky. Olivers came to an intercom system by the front door. “You think he’s in there?” she said.

Mile pushed the button. “We’ll try the door first. If not we’ll call his cell.”

It took over a minute for any response. “Hello? How can I help you?”

“Is that you, Donovan? Lieutenant Golda here. Can you spare a couple minutes to talk?”

“I’ll be down in a moment.” His voice sounded crackly from the static. They heard a loud clanging from behind the doors, and the metal frame opened. Donovan stood before them, appearing a little pastier and crustier than in previous years. His fading black hair, pulled back with gel, appeared stiff and sharp. His white lab coat dangled over his shoulders behind his back. Thick, magnified goggles made this eyes look frighteningly large, making the others shudder. “Well here I thought my surveillance cameras were on the fritz. I thought I recognized you.”

“Forgive the intrusion, Donovan. We hope we’re not disturbing your work.”

Donovan removed his goggles. “I’m always at work Miles, therefore you are always intruding,” he said dryly. “Is everything alright?”

“Unfortunately, there is a bit of an emergency.”

Donovan peered to the others. “Hmm? You’ve brought company, I see.”

“Yeah, this here’s Tarik Sandori; been a friend of mine for many years. Y’all never met, did you?”

Donovan shook Tarik’s hand. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. I’m Donovan Aiga. Good to meet you.”

“You too, Mr. Aiga.”

“Step into my office.”

They followed him into the empty main room with a reception desk, but no employees. The silvery carpeting spread all across the area, with boxes and crates strewn across the floor. From the evident desk pieces, dismantled rolling chairs, brand new computers, and miscellaneous equipment, it became clear Aiga developed his business from the ground up. Beyond the first room stood a thick glass partition with two secured doors, allowing a look into the product testing room, also cluttered with mechanical experiments and other technology.

“You’ve definitely been busy,” Miles said. “This place is something else.”

“Being a one-man show has its perks; you receive all the credit,” Donovan said with a chuckle. “Of course being solely responsible for the company’s potential failure is bound to have caveats.”

Miles flicked his hand. “Not a chance! You’ll have this place up and running in no time.”

“I’m projecting to start hiring late next year. Once the technical aspects are in line I’ll be able to focus solely on my inventions. Anyhow, how can I help you three?”

“Tarik here is in dire circumstances. His grandson’s been kidnapped!”

“My condolences. And how is it you’ve found your way here?”

Tarik took out his phone and showed Donovan the images. “Does this look familiar to you?”

Donovan’s brows rose. “What in God’s name? How did this happen?”

“So this is your creation?” Olivers said.

“Indeed. That’s one of my army drones. I built five test models and sold them to the Senigot armed forces.”

“Okay, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” Miles said, relieved. “There might be a chance yet.”

“And how does your grandson’s disappearance correspond to this drone?” Donovan asked.

“It was destroyed by some creature—Tarik’s got a suspicion as to what it was.”

Donovan looked over at Tarik.

“It was one of the dark angels, a breed of shape-shifting demons. They were sent here to rip the world apart!”

“Quite the yarn,” Donovan said, his hands on his hips.

“Excuse me?”

“Believe me when I say I share in your plight, sir, but let us dispense with tall tales and see for ourselves.”

“What do you mean?” Olivers said.

“Follow me to the back. We’ll settle this right now.”