BLOOD DRAGON by Freddie Peters (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📕

He stepped down the metal staircase. A few other people were also taking their time. A couple, looking amorous, were walking towards the gates in a leisurely fashion. An elderly man with a large bag that seemed too heavy for him was following them.

Jack crossed a couple of busy roads. Skyscrapers of various heights were jostling for space. The car exhaust fumes reminded Jack that Hong Kong Kowloon was a city that never slept. He didn’t need to wait for the light to go green at the crossing. The traffic was solid.

He moved in the direction of a building that looked under repair. As Jack came closer, the YMCA façade came into view. Sheets of plastic resembled billowing black sails in the light breeze; others had come loose and were floating along in the air. Jack increased his speed. He reached the front of the building that read in bold letters – YMCA – NO ENTRY.

“Shit …” His shoulders sagged at the discovery. Part of the entrance was obstructed by a heavy tarpaulin cover.

“It’s not completely closed, if you’re looking for somewhere to stay.” A young Asian man was moving towards the building, slowing down to speak to Jack.

“Do you live here?”

“Just got a room a few days ago … they’re renovating a few floors but the rest of the building is pretty decent. And the price has come right down.”

“Much appreciated …” Jack gave the young man a thumbs up. He carried on towards the building. Some of the floors were plunged into darkness whilst others looked inhabited.

Jack made a mental note of the floors still under repair. He continued walking towards the building and stepped into the reception area, lifting the tarpaulin door. The space was more welcoming than he had anticipated … light stone and cream colour walls. The reception desk, a long slab of tropical wood, looked brand new. Two receptionists were waiting for guests to arrive. One of them moved towards Jack from behind the desk with a smile.

“I need a room … just for a couple of nights.” Jack looked around him as he spoke.

He was presented with a choice of options and price.

“Which floors are under repair? I wouldn’t want to be below one of them.”

“Floors one to five, Sir. How about floor ten?”

“Floor seven would be better.” No need for an explanation.

Jack grabbed his key but didn’t go to his room immediately. He walked outside again, looking for somewhere to sit in the small garden that spread in front of the entrance. He could see the building well from there. He bought a beer from the little shop that sold drinks and snacks. Jack settled down to survey each of the YMCA floors that were not taking any guests. He had time to check them for movement before he needed to decide on his next move.

“If I had to live somewhere anonymously … that’s where I would go.”

* * *

“Inspector Pole of the Metropolitan Police.”

The door opened with a click. Pole’s team headed by DS Andy Todd walked into the Viro-Tech Therapeutics building. Two PCs were left downstairs to ensure no one either entered or left the premises.

The rest of the team took the lift to the first floor where the flustered receptionist awaited them.

Andy showed him the search warrant and the search team fanned out into the premises with Ollie Wilson’s office as the site of primary interest.

Jared Turner, the CEO, was at a meeting elsewhere in the City.

Turner’s office did not disappoint. The requisite expensive desk, expensive ergonomic armchair, the luxurious sofas in a corner to huddle with guests. Despite the contemporary artwork on the walls, the place felt perhaps too clean. Pole noticed the absence of files or even filling cabinets.

The people working and running Viro-Tech belonged to the age of virtual everything, no paper scattered on desks, no note of any kind hidden underneath piles of documents … no document apart from those stored away on their computers, parked on a cloud and protected by the latest cyber technology. And yet, some documents were perhaps better kept away from even the most secure systems.

Pole moved slowly around the room. It had been rearranged recently. The furniture had left dents in the pile of the deep carpet which had not yet disappeared. He crouched next to one of the couches and managed to move it a little despite its weight. Another piece of furniture had been standing there, but he could not quite make out what it had been.

Pole stood up and resumed his systematic search. The desk had a couple of screens plugged into a laptop docking station … a ThinkPad laptop. Pole ran a gloved hand over the equipment. There was no dust and, unless their cleaners were unusually efficient, the computer had been either replaced recently or deep cleaned.

The choice of a Lenovo ThinkPad, the only laptop certified for use by astronauts on the International Space Station, spoke volumes.

Viro-Tech kept its research well under wraps.

Turner’s PA arrived to announce her boss would be back any minute now.

Pole thanked her. She stood there almost certainly under instructions not to let the policeman out of her sight. He smiled. “A glass of water would be welcome if I can trouble you with such a request.”

She shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably before making her way to the nearest water cooler. Pole returned to the sofa, trying to make sense of the mark on the carpet and finally took a seat to wait for Jared Turner.

Turner’s PA came back with the water but felt too embarrassed to stay any longer. She left Pole to his thoughts and a review of his day so far.

Ferguson had left his office glowering.

Andy came in as soon as he had left to find his boss still deep in thought.

“I’ve got a little more information about