Raving Moon, Lords of the Night Book One

Chapter 27: The Curse of Death

The T&B Building, known as T&B One, in midtown Tartarus was the North American headquarters for the Tanner & Bones Corporation. Consistently making the Forbes 500, it's tech division was at the forefront of innovation. Its security division created the technology utilized by the Department of Homeland Security and the CIA. The backbone of the Thrones' surveillance infrastructure, the means by which we controlled social media and the news outlets, was provided by one of the largest private companies in the world.

T&B One was a perfect representation of their public face. Modeled after the old Empire State Building, it reaches thirteen hundred feet into the night sky. The structure was a testimony to modern architecture and an homage to the skyscrapers of old. It's massive windows reflected Gorgon City's skyline, but could be made to display digital messages or stock market projections at the touch of a button. Sleek and mysterious, T&B One was synonymous with Gorgon City.

The T&B One subway stop deposited us in the basement atrium among a few dozen high end shops including Swarovski and Brooks Brothers. Ariane grabbed two venti mocha lattes from Starbucks as we moved through the crowded food court. The escalators took us up to a set of glass double doors, a silver T on one and a golden B on the other.

On the other side we were greeted by morose classical music. It looked like the lobby of any midtown office building, but felt like a contemporary mausoleum. Our footfalls echoed off of black marble floor and white pillars. Armed security guards in expensive suits patrolled the lobby as business men and women walked through numbered silver turnstiles to bronze elevators.

We walked up to the security desk, a long black slab of stone, and were greeted by a grim faced old man.

"What can I do for you folks this evening?"

We handed him our task force badges.

"We need to speak with someone in the Tech Division."

He narrowed his eyes then scrutinized our badges. He scowled and fished a set of reading glasses from his pocket. A second guard came over. She was younger, but wore an air of authority and a no nonsense expression.

"Everything okay?"

"These two wanna talk to someone from T&B."

She glanced down at the ID badges and quickly back at us. Her stern glare softened around the edges. She was human, but she knew who we were.

"Call Public Relations on 13."

"But I've never seen badges like this before." He held up one and shook it like he expected it to fall apart. "I ain't never heard of the Public Defense and Surveillance Joint Task Force."

"They're FBI."

He stared at her over the rim of his glasses. An old skeptic, the best kind of watchman. I sipped my latte.

"Call Public Relations," she repeated, snatching the phone off the base in front of him and shoving it into his hand. She looked at us and smiled apologetically, careful to stare at our chins and not our eyes. "Someone should be with you shortly."

"Thank you, ma'am," Ariane said.

The old guard gave the badges one last look then dialed. He had a quick conversation with the person on the other line and hung up. After entering data into the computer behind the desk, he returned our badges and provided us temporary IDs.

"Sit tight. Someone is on their way down."

He glanced at his supervisor and shook his head. Sweat dripped down her face, the vein at the side of her neck throbbing. I licked my lips before I could stop myself. She gasped and excused herself. The man watched her go.