Brad looked the body of the assassin over, trying not to vomit immediately at the sight as well as the wafting scent of iron, blood, and any other post-death release of bodily fluids.

Oh God that’s a lot of blood. And it smells really bad too. Okay, okay, I got it. Just don’t look at the head wound. That’s a start.

He focused on the jacket, doing a quick pat down. The first major discovery wasn’t all that surprising: his communicator. That should be helpful. At least now, if the group had to split up again, communication wouldn’t be an issue.

Further examining the body, he came across the assassin’s ID badge in his jacket pocket.

Wait, ID badge? Who is this guy?

Brad looked the ID over. It seemed legitimate: photograph, name, company. All pretty typical for an external ID badge, but Brad took another look at the information.

Felix Yeager, under the employ of QUXQ Project Holdings.

Interesting company to employ an assassin.

The fact that it was separate from his communicator indicated a need for an extra layer of security. While a person’s communicator was usually enough for entry into their homes (unless one specifically had a physical lock and key setup akin to Brad’s office), places dealing with more sensitive information or business would often require an external means of identification for access in addition to the communicator, and from the look of things, this was no exception.

However, Brad had never heard of this company before. His occupation as a private detective didn’t usually lend itself to getting tied up in corporate politics and needing to learn the relationship one company had with another. This was going to require some research.

Brad quickly sat down at his computer and began his search. Pulling up information on QUXQ Project Holdings was surprisingly much easier than he’d expected. From what he was able to see and understand, the company was, as identified in the name, a holding firm, with controlling interests in several smaller companies involving mining and shipping—no real surprise for something that began as a mining colony—as well as security, investigation, and space exploration, something that was a bit more of a surprise.

Brad raised an eyebrow. Sure, a holding firm with a diverse portfolio, including forward-thinking things such as space exploration and mining was no surprise, but the interest in security and investigation was interesting. Probably the best cover a big company like that could have for employing thugs and assassins.

So the company had an interest in mining whatever was outside the colony and keeping it under wraps by getting rid of anyone who put their nose too close to it, even by accident.

Brad found the lack of a firearm to be rather confusing though.

At this point, Jolene had noticed Brad hunched over his computer and asked what he was doing, so Brad filled her in on what he discovered.

“Can you think of why an assassin wouldn’t be packing heat?” Brad asked.

Jolene’s brow furrowed. “That’s a really good question. I guess bringing firearms into the colony is really expensive and the amount of red tape around getting them registered would be a bit of a pain, but it’s not as if that should stop someone who really wants to kill someone, unless he wasn’t intending to actually kill you when he showed up?”

“What, you’re suggesting that he was just gonna beat the hell out of me and leave?”

“Could be a way to teach a lesson. Maybe he was also after the hard drive.”

“True, but then why did he try to kill Elaine?”

“She did fire on him, so it could have been in self-defense,” Jolene reminded him. “Plus if they’re trying to get rid of police officers who know too much, maybe he figured he could use her death as leverage for a pay raise.”

Brad settled back into his office chair and sighed. “What a mess. His employers probably won’t be happy to see that he failed at whatever he’s doing.”

This gave Brad an idea, and he opened the assassin’s communicator. It had both fingerprint and retina scanners, so getting into it might be a bit of a headache, but it also had a four-digit numerical password, which was a lot easier to break. Brad looked over the ID badge for any possible clue to start from.

He had a date of birth. September 8. Brad tried 0908. No go.

Brad removed the zeroes and added in the last two numbers of the birth year. Nothing.

Brad stopped to consider any other possibilities. Year day month? Nope. Day month year? Nope. Year month day? Nope.

He turned the badge over. No information there. He turned the badge over again. Something caught his eye, a minor imperfection that could only be seen at a certain angle?

He looked closer. 三一五八. Brad smirked a bit. No way this guy was that sloppy, hiding his PIN number with Chinese characters. Surely he realized most people with some education would have had a class or two in Chinese or Japanese.

Brad eagerly typed the numbers into the phone. 3-1-5-8. The menu sprang to life on the screen.

Brad actually started laughing.

Brad looked through the device for anything that might have been left behind. Clues, evidence, anything.

Cycling through the contacts list, Brad found one that stuck out. Jefe. As in, boss in Spanish. Brad looked at the list of messages from Jefe, half-expecting there to be nothing, but nothing had been deleted.

“Felix, I need you to get the hard drive from Valentine’s computer before his apartment is investigated. All other loose ends are or will soon be tied up. Nothing else is needed. Report in as soon as you finish the mission.”

Brad decided to do something bold, sending a message back.

“Felix is dead. The jig is up. The data from the hard drive is on its way to news organizations throughout the federation. Precisely one message away from being blasted. We don’t know who you are but it won’t take long for Earth federation forces to find you. Call off whatever you’re doing.”

Brad sat back after hitting the Send button, regretting that decision almost immediately. But before long, a response came.

“You have no idea who you are dealing with, but I appreciate the enthusiasm. Tell you what, I’ll humor you with a meeting. Come to the clock tower at Epiphany Square tomorrow night at 9PM. Not to worry, we’ll know who you are.”

Clock tower? This guy must really love being theatrical. Brad quickly fired off a response.

“And if we refuse?”

A voice in Brad’s mind yelled at him to stop this and just hand all their found evidence over to the authorities, but a more rational part of his mind said no. At least, it suggested that he keep at it until they were more sure who their allies were. The response came.

“Instead of redecorating your office, we’ll bulldoze it with you in it.”

A chill ran down Brad’s spine. So they figured out who he was. Brad guessed that that meant that Felix was only assigned to Brad and Elaine. They didn’t even really seem that surprised that Felix had failed. Brad inhaled a deep breath and exhaled.

“Okay. Should I come alone?”