“Eric, where are the computers you collected from the New York raid?” I asked as soon as he answered the phone.“The IT department has them; I ha...en’t seen any reports about what was on them,” Eric replied.“Eric run an investigation on your IT group; something’s not right,” I replied.“Why do you say that?” Eric replied.“Because my people broke the encryption and did translations yesterday on the ones we had. Why are your experts so slow? Is someone intentionally delaying or are they scrubbing as. Now that it was a reality I was interested in how she felt about it.But she sat back in her seat with her eyes closed and never said a word. I didn't know if she was struggling to calm down or if she was savoring the memories. I wondered if she was thinking about some of the other things we discussed. If she was, I wondered if she was looking forward to them or dreading them.I parked near a restaurant with a deck that looked out over the ocean. I waited for her to get out and locked the car. I. Was I dead? I didn't feel dead. That seemed hilarious, what was death supposed to feel like? I struggled to remember anything, but all I had apart from the odd fact was the last two scenes. For some reason the details of the scenes seemed etched on my consciousness. But then when I concentrated on them they flowed away.Even so, I persevered, and found that I could eventually bring everything to mind. My name was Mark and I knew two girls: Susan and Angela. For some reason that I couldn't. She gazed down at herself, checking her attire and comparing it to the few women who sat close to the bar. They were hanging on to and draping themselves over the men, showing their interest in an obviously sensual manner, hoping perhaps to gain their attentions. Her own clothing far from feminine, she looked more like a man in the leather riding clothes her father insisted she wear. She was grateful she had heeded his words, perhaps the men in the room wouldn’t be drawn to her soft curves and.
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