“Forensics.” Legacy thought is the most overrated science in the world. Biologicals are for those with no imagination. He didn’t like fiber evidence, either. People committed the crime and only an examination of people could describe the depth and breadth of the circumstances surrounding a criminal act. Maybe he was pissed off because he simply didn’t want to start putting together another puzzle, or maybe it was the fact that he knew that he didn’t have the time. Blue would have the entire organization underground within hours – and in the forensic playbook, it took days. Add to that any one of the steps could hit a roadblock and the situation appeared to be aided by anything less than a fiber that had a map stamped on it or a genetic code that came with a utility bill complete with a current address.
What sickened him weren’t the mistakes in the field however; it was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it rumbled on regardless. There was something about the operation other than the result that personally didn’t sit well. What could it be?
He looked across the table where Tyke pretended not to know the outcome of his night was disastrous. He stared back, waiting an explanation. Everybody wanted an explanation for everything and it seemed like Legacy was the only person on duty at the information desk.
“Did he get away?”
He shrugged and said in a weary voice “Not yet, but he’s going to.”
Legacy stood to leave. Tyke stood at the door awkwardly deciding whether to shake his hand or pat him on the back as he passed. Something in Legacy’s posture told him to do neither, and after two days of close quarters they parted in complete silence.