Dark Stranger

Scott - Part 5

Case 1 - "Scott"

Xavier had me taken to my apartment in one of Misha's town cars. I collected my SUV and headed for Scott's Station House. I sat outside on the bench provided for visitors and closed my eyes.

Listening for certain voices is another bonus of mine.

Once I've got you locked in, I can trace you through two or more stories in an office building. It depends of the quality of construction and how noisy you are, but usually two or three stories is about my range. In this case I was after information and I tried not to focus in on the raised voices. I listened for conversations where people might be sharing information pertinent to what I needed.

I needed to know three things, where Corporal Robert Green was at this particular point in time. We needed to talk. Who if any of Robert's fellow Officers/Superiors were in on the Demon's plans and if they knew his name. Once I found out the name of the Demon, I could possibly trace it back to its Master and that would be a huge help to Fr Rinaldi. Naming a thing was powerful. It was easier to expel something if you could say its name.

I caught snippets of conversations.

"I didn't do nothin' man!"

"That's entrapment."

"Lawyer.... LAW...YER."

"Fill in form 17 in triplicate and you will be directed to the appropriate department."

"It's all set for tonight, Man. Corporal Moneybags has the address."

Ah, that sounded like the conversation I needed to pay attention to. I listened as the two people having the conversation discussed where they were going to split the take from a drug bust. Bagged evidence had been delivered from the bust to storage, but a large amount had been 'diverted' for the Officer's personal enjoyment. They talked about the strip club they were going to go to and then meet up with Corporal Green. Great, I'll see you there guys.

Scott's POV

When were they going to let me out of this prison? I couldn't leave, I couldn't go in to work. I couldn't investigate my own shooting. I was slowly... OK rapidly going stir crazy. There was nothing interesting on the T.V., the nurses had exhausted the magazine supply on me and the only friend I had at the Station was ignoring my texts. I almost wished I was still under and not just sitting here waiting to be released. I felt fine. My rehab was practically done. I had exercises to do every day, but that was no different from any other. The Doctor was happy with how I was healing, my stitches were all out and the only thing holding me back was the eye exam.

They were still waiting on the results. I figured there must be something wrong, but I hadn't really noticed any particular problems since I'd opened my eyes. OK maybe one eye is a bit funky still, but that'll heal up right? I think it's my peripheral vision. Crap.

The Doctor finally came in to deliver the bad news. My peripheral vision on the left was permanently impaired from the gunshot wound. I guess I had been lucky overall, my chest wound was healing up well and I only needed pain killers on a bad day, instead of everyday now. The Ophthalmologist who had done my test had also sent along a few pairs of glasses for me to try. I ended up choosing a pair that was fairly plain, black rims with small accents at the top corners. Apparently the sight thing was manageable, but I'd need correction for the rest of my life. They couldn't repair my eye any further. Oh well glasses aren't such a problem right? I can still be a cop right?

Captain Martins came back with a stenographer and another officer to act as my representative. When the Doctor had advised that I was ready to be released the next day, however my vision was permanently impaired it was almost like he breathed a sigh of relief and used that as an excuse rather than dismissing me from the force over the shooting. He stated that vision impairment was a deal breaker for the Department. Guess I wasn't going to be a cop anymore. Well there goes my entire life's goal.