Ayda: The Explosive Girl

Domestic Intrusion

 away some dust with his hand. Neither had much effect on the glare. It was a Saturday afternoon, almost one week since their meeting with the courier.

Silence fell over the room as Elliot lapsed into deep thought. For all her complaining, Ayda had a point. Courier seemed like a pretty active job. It didn't really make sense for this particular specimen to do basically nothing for six whole days. It was perfectly possible he just didn't have many deliveries, but that seemed unlikely in a logistical sense. With the estimated amount of product the triad pushed, they—theoretically–couldn't afford to let a courier have such a light work week.

"Maybe it's the jacket?" Elliot observed offhandedly. "He might not wear it everywhere."

"That's a good point," conceded Ayda. "I'll shove it up his ass next time."

"Hey, I worked hard to make that tracker," he protested without looking at her.

"Yeah? I'm gonna need you to make another one, too," Ayda added fuel to the fire. Elliot knew what she was doing. Sometimes, that girl just got in the mood for an argument. It was the fighter in her. Thankfully for him, he had the perfect ammunition to disarm her.

"I already did," he said with a shrug. "I made you a spare, remember?"

"Well, look at you," Ayda mocked sarcastically. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated, you know?"

"I hear ya," Elliot agreed, tracing one of the solitary green lines with his finger.

"I mean, we spent all that time on the phone, and the planning, and what did we get? Jack shit." She glanced at him, and only then noticed his silent contemplation. Ayda popped off the wall and walked up behind him. "What are you doing?" She asked, leaning over his left shoulder.

"Look at all these random single lines," he said, tracing a different one from before, "the ones that don't fit any sort of pattern."

"Yeah, those are probably deliveries," Ayda replied. "We already figured that out."

"But what if they're not?"

"What?" Ayda leaned away and looked at him.

"What if his job isn't just bringing meth to dealers, but also delivering it to a bunch of different places?" Suggested Elliot. Ayda pondered this for a moment, squinting at the lines on the screen.

"If he's moving around that much stuff, he'd have to get it from somewhere" she said finally. "Again, we already figured that out. That's the whole reason we put a tracker on him in the first place."

"Exactly," agreed Elliot. "All these random places he only visited once, except for this one." He pointed to a particular spot on the map. "He went here three times, and each time led to a delivery." Elliot traced out three different, solitary lines, each originating from this same spot.

Ayda looked over all of the information Elliot just presented. It was a good deduction, on his part. Certainly, it was odd that this guy would go to some random location three times, especially if an assumed delivery followed immediately after. They may have been on to something, but a sudden realization hit the girl.

"Wait, I know that place. It's just an office building," she said.

"And what could possibly be more innocuous?" Elliot responded, flexing his vocabulary muscles in the process. "It's worth a shot, right?"

"Yeah, I should probably take a look." Ayda slinked into an upright position and started toward the exit. "If this is just a waste of time, I'm gonna kick your ass."