HTH

Chapter Three

New York City, 2021

Police cars screamed past him, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Tires squealed as they turned the corner for the Manhattan Bridge.

Fabrics and crushed cardboard boxes covered the floor of an abandoned warehouse which was now newly decorated with tire tracks. One pile of fabrics and boxes began to rustle.

Emerging from the pile was the man who had shot the mayor. He staggered out of the pile of wreckage that had probably saved his life.

The plan had gone perfectly. While all the cops were focused on not missing the turn for the warehouse, the man had jumped out of the car into the fabrics. There was a reason he had chose this warehouse after all. He dug himself into the pile while all of the cops chased after his car, which of course had its autopilot reconfigured to follow a very specific route that included a surprise turn off the Manhattan Bridge.

The man stood up and brushed himself off, stepping out of the pile. He walked over to an oil canister near the door. Inside were a black and teal hoodie, a Nets cap, a pair of fake glasses, and a large backpack. He took off the Islanders hat, exposing his dark wavy hair, and removed his leather jacket, stuffing both into the bag. He took off the sunglasses and tossed them inside as he pulled on the hoodie. He put on the glasses, lit a lighter, and dropped it into the barrel, along with the gun. He walked out of the warehouse completely different from when he walked in.

He walked out to Pier 36 and bought a one-way Big Apple Ferry ticket to the India Street pier. From there he got on the subway heading into Brooklyn.

And just like that, nobody knew where he was, who he was, or what he had done.

 --- 

Sergeant Lance was sitting in an meeting room at One Police Plaza. It had been 3 hours since the "incident" on the Manhattan Bridge. He was still in shock and had so many unanswerable questions. Was the suspect worried about jail time? Was he suicidal? A radicalized terrorist? Was it an accident? The only person who could answer that was 40 feet underwater and almost certainly dead.

The NYPD had sent scuba divers to salvage anything they could from the car. They had just finished their search and were preparing to disclose what they had found to the Chief of Police, the District Attorney, the Mayor's Chief of Staff, and Lance, who were all sitting around a long table facing a projector screen.

The door opened and in walked Patty Walker, Head of Special Operations, which was responsible for anything normal police couldn't handle. Bomb defusion, scuba teams, biochemical hazards, and such. The shooting of the mayor-elect was headline news, and she considered everything that went across her desk her responsibility. So something this big deserved only the best.

She was accompanied by a young girl, in her mid 20s, who was carrying a MacBook and trying very hard not to spill her coffee all over it.

"Okay, we've all been waiting so let's just get started," Lieutenant Walker said quickly. Patty was very direct and commandeered the respect of whoever was in the room. She pulled out her NYPD-issued tablet and swiped up on the screen. Her tablet's screen appeared on the projector screen in the front of the room.

"There's no easy way to say this, people. We found barely anything." Murmurs of surprise. A photo of an empty car underwater appeared on screen. "There was no body in the car when we found it. There's no sign of struggle or attempt to escape from the car, such as a cut seat belt or broken window. Our only explanation is the suspect was not in the car when it fell off the bridge."

Lance clenched his fist. How? he thought. I was right behind him all the way.

Except when he turned into the warehouse.

Lance cleared his throat and addressed the room. "We need to send officers to the warehouse on Hester Street. That was his only opportunity to escape."

The DA chimed in. "But if he wasn't in the car, and he got out at the warehouse before the Bridge, that begs the question: how did the car get onto, and subsequently off of, the Manhattan Bridge?"

Walker turned to the unknown woman with the MacBook. "That's where Kara comes in. She from IT and she has a theory."

Kara stepped forward. "I'm from Cyber Crimes, actually," she murmured quietly, then cleared her throat. "The car in question," she said, pointing to the image onscreen, "was a Yazda Kronos CTE. The 2020 model, to be specific." She cleared her throat nervously. "One of the new features of the car was a experimental autopilot that was meant for long distance trips. I believe that someone modified the car, or more specifically its autopilot, to drive down the bridge and spin off."

"But how did the car avoid other vehicles on the bridge?" This was the Chief.

"Oh yeah," Kara stuttered. "The car has three hundred and sixty degree proximity detectors. So it's designed to avoid and overtake other cars."

"Okay, but how can a car drive itself off the Manhattan Bridge? Seems difficult." The DA again.

"Well, it would've taken a pretty good hacker, one that's prepared."

"Any evidence to support your claim?" The DA sure seemed to be grilling this girl for no reason. Probably just taking his frustration about losing the perp out on her, Lance thought.

"The auto driver mode was only a work-in-progress; it shouldn't have been able to make maneuvers like those. And when we found the hard drive, everything had been wiped."

"I'm sorry Miss, Kara was it? Do we have any idea who could have done this?" The chief picked up on how harsh the DA was being but still had questions.

"I think I can answer that," said a voice from the back of the room.