Chapter 2: The Googy's Heist
[11:00 AM – Mr. Googy's Electronics Store – September 17, 2013]
The air in the electronics store was thick with the scent of burnt wood and smashed glass, a chaotic, nauseating mix of plastic and ash. The storefront was a black scar, a gaping wound in the otherwise pristine city street. Adam and Boyle were at the scene, with Jake Peralta already doing something reckless—climbing on top of a car to "get a better view." The air was thick with the smell of burnt wood, the sound of shattered glass, and the high-pitched shriek of a car alarm. Adam's internal clock was ticking. The [DIS] had given him a time limit to "prevent a costly chase."
I have to be fast, Adam's internal monologue began, a frantic, multi-threaded debate against his own mind. I can't let Jake get into a car chase. The collateral damage would be immense. And if I don't solve this fast, Holt will have a reason to get rid of me. The system was a silent, unfeeling partner, but its message was a clear, impossible challenge. [SYSTEM: Mission Timer Activated: 10:00. The probability of a successful apprehension is 98% if you solve the case within the time limit. The probability of a successful apprehension is 2% if you let Jake Peralta drive a car.] The data was clear, cold, and terrifyingly funny. Jake was a liability. He was a ghost in a machine. He had to be smart. He had to be clever. He had to be a ghost.
Boyle, meanwhile, was oblivious to the high stakes. He was rambling about artisanal cheese. "Jake says a fine cheddar is like a mystery," he said, his voice a low, rambling monotone. "It has layers. You have to peel them back, one by one, to find the truth."
Adam was a human, but he was a human with a System. He used his [DIS]'s "Observation Boost" to find a key clue, a small, inconspicuous detail that a normal detective would miss. He saw a faint, almost invisible fingerprint on the shattered glass, a fingerprint that was covered in a specific kind of motor oil. The oil was a rare, expensive brand. It was a detail that pointed to a specific kind of person. A person with a specific kind of car.
"Jake," Adam said, his voice urgent. "He's a gearhead. The culprit is a gearhead. He's probably got a garage. We should check the garages in the area."
Jake's face, which had been a mask of over-the-top concentration, broke into a wide, excited grin. "A gearhead!" he said, a look of pure, theatrical amusement on his face. "A gearhead who loves artisanal cheese!" he said, gesturing to Boyle. "That's a new one. I like it, Ad-man."
"Ad-man?" Adam said, a hint of genuine humor in his voice. "Is that a new one?"
"It's an inside joke," Jake said, his eyes a mischievous glint. "It's a new one."
Adam felt a jolt of recognition. An inside joke? he thought. He thinks it's an inside joke? He has no idea. This is a subtle paradox. A paradox that the System is now registering as a 'minor paradox.' The words were a cold, terrifying jolt of adrenaline. [SYSTEM: Minor Paradox Detected. You have revealed information you should not know. The paradox has been logged. The consequences are unknown.]
He had to be smart. He had to be clever. He had to be a ghost. The chase was on. But it was a chase in his mind, a frantic, multi-threaded debate against his own System.
The suspect, a man with a face as unassuming as a paper bag, was caught within minutes. Holt, a silent specter in the background, had been watching the entire time. He walked over to Adam and Jake, his face a mask of cold fury. "Peralta," he said, his voice a low, gravelly monotone. "You went in without backup. You went in without a warrant. You went in... without a plan. You're lucky you didn't get yourself killed."
"I had a plan, Captain," Jake said, his voice a defensive, childish whine. "It was... a very, very, very good plan."
Holt's gaze shifted to Adam. "And you, Officer Nolan. You gave him an 'inside joke' that led to a successful apprehension. A curious outcome." He gave Adam a piercing look, but praised him, much to Amy's chagrin. The praise was a veiled warning, a subtle sign of his suspicion. "You're a good rookie, Nolan. But you're a weird one. Don't let your 'luck' get in the way of your job."
As Holt walked away, a new, cryptic message flashed in Adam's mental HUD, a "mystery" alert tied to a minor character. The alert was a clear signal that the Broker's network was already in motion. The game had just begun. And he was a pawn in a game he didn't want to play.