Earlier, before the discovery of the corpse.
Daniel was curled up in his bed, the event of last night did not help his tradition of early to rise. The wind that penetrated his room from the open windows was gentle and cool, it made his deep breathing worth it. Curled up in bed with a pillow in between his legs, Daniel subconsciously wished morning would never come.
He had a little above average accommodation, his income could not really care for him. His apartment reeked of wealth and every item in it radiated class and taste. Obviously not his class or taste, he would have gone for something less classy but she wouldn't hear of it.
The whole house had a contrast of uniform colors, everything blended into either white, grey, or black. His bed had a grey frame and the bed covers were sparkling white. It synchronized with the white walls and ceilings. Each item that added to the show of class in the room, fell into the blend of White grey, and black.
His wristwatch alarm went off, but the faint sound was not strong enough to disturb his comfortable sleep. A few seconds later, the alarm clock on the cabinet beside his bed went off and it reverberated right inside his brain. He sluggishly got up and clicked on the reset button to turn off the annoying sound. It was 6:00 am.
After the discovery of the corpse.
Daniel walked away from the window and knocked off ashes from the cigarette he was smoking, before sitting down on the black spiral seat behind his desk. His office was on the second floor of the block overlooking the entrance to the TW dockyard. He seldom stared too long through his window but today he seemed to have frequently looked out the window. He wasn't sure which of his concerns weighed most, the event of last night or the corpse at his backyard.
Apart from the smoky air around the well-furnished office, the ashtray on his desk was overfilled with ashes and the butt of a cigarette. Daniel was gradually losing his mind.
His phone rang again and he quickly took the call.
"Danny, what's going on?" A concerned voice sounded from the other end.
******************************
The BMW pulled up on the TW admin complex parking lot, there were a few cars currently parked there but they were not business-associated. They were either police vehicles or staff-owned.
Jason got out of the car just as Sera was getting off and they walked together towards the complex, both taking in different details of their current environment. The sun was beginning to raise its head over the horizon and the cold was beginning to struggle.
"Good morning, how may I help you?" The receptionist asked smiling her best.
"We would like to see the COO?" Sera said as she observed the blond lady who attended to them.
"Is he expecting you, Ma'am?" The receptionist asked.
"No he isn't and we would like to keep it that way," Sera said flashing her badge and the girl quietly pointed to the elevator.
"Second floor on your left, you can't miss it."
Sera and Jason walked to the elevator, Jason pressed the call button and the door slid open they both worked in. As they turned and faced the reception, Jason noticed the tense composure of the receptionist.
"Don't give him a heads up, ok?" He told the receptionist with a hint of an unspoken consequence. Sera pushed the second floor button and the door closed.
On the second floor, as the two detectives worked out of the elevator, they were faced with an open office. The walls of the office were made of thick glass that you could see through them. Arranged in the middle of the vast space were perfectly structured mini cubicles that faced each other in a horizontal pattern with a neat two-foot walkway between each of the four rows for easy walk-through.
There were four rows of 7 desks that faced each other, which amounted to forty-two staffs on the vast floor. On the far edge of the hall, glass cubicles were built like boxes to form enclosed offices, this would be spaces for the big boys, Jason thought as he nudged Sera and both of them began to head towards the glass boxes. It amazed them how nobody had noticed the strangers who had been under their noses for over two minutes.
They made their way to the far row of box offices bumping into one staff or the other.
"Does this floor remind you of anything?" Jason asked his new partner.
"Yes, the floor of the stock exchange?" She replied honestly.
"Well no, Soldier Ants" Jason replied looking around him in confirmation. "The difference between these guys and the soldier ants is that the soldier ants walk in an organized straight line, these guys are civilian ants," Jason said trying not to look at the bewildered Sera.
There was nothing organized in the way they walked about carrying one document or a file or the loud conversations or the flashing papers at the other.
"One more thing," Sera turned to him, "There is no such thing as Civilian ants, you just made that up."
"You are in their midst right about now," Jason said
They got to the end of the vast hall, the cubicles were tagged, and each one had the designation occupant, boldly inscribed with gold into a black slab. You couldn't miss it standing away from it. They walked past the first three offices and the door tags read, ACCOUNTANT, CS MANAGER, and ADMINISTRATOR. After the admin's office was an exit door, the inscription beside the door read 'For emergency use. Can only be opened from within, once out kindly head to the closest gathering point.' There were three other cubicles remaining after the exit door.
They made their way through the first two glass boxes, there were no slabs identifying the occupants but the last cubicle had a slab and it caught Sera's eye.
"Aha, here we are." she pointed to the slab a few feet away from them.
"It was beginning to seem like we were on the wrong floor," Jason said mimicking the receptionist. 'Second floor on your left, you can't miss it.'
"We did turn left, didn't we?" Sera asked trying to defend her species.
"Yeah, but she forgot to add that we will be gallivanting through the universe of civilian soldiers, after turning left."
"Really Jason?" Sera shot him a straight face and knocked on the door of the office.
They could see the occupant looking out the window.
**************************************
He listened to Rahim his right-hand man uninterruptedly for about fifteen minutes without saying a word. For several years, Rahim has been in charge of his affairs personally and cooperatively. He was both his private security and his special assistant. There was nothing Rahim did not know in detail, ranging from his legitimate business to his crooked investments and deals. They have both come a long way and the six-foot-tall man in front of him has evolved from his staff to a close brother over time, he thought to himself.
"Are you becoming sloppy or is age telling on you?" Do asked Rahim. He stood from his seat and went to the cabinet beside his desk, took out a bottle of rum and two glasses.
"I am sorry Don, I will handle this myself," Rahim said.
"Seat down Rahim," Don told his friend and brother. "You were around even before Cloe died," Don said as he poured drinks for the two of them. "She is all that is left and I want to make it right with her."
Dominic Kane, known as The Don was a poor man years ago. He had done virtually all odd jobs in this town where he had lived all his life. He was not born with a golden spoon, he never had the luxury an average kid would enjoy from their parents as kids. He worked in the slums and stole from both the rich and the poor. Don had a gang of friends who made a living from taking what was not theirs to take. He had snatched a purse from one beautiful lady when he was 25 and when he went through the purse in his shack of a room, he could not help but fall in love with the picture he saw in the purse, Cloe Mendez.
He returned the purse to the address and apologized to the young woman. He expected her to have called the police or just taken her purse and scram from the thug, but she stood there smiling. He will never forget what she had said to him, 'You are far so kind, Mr. Dominic.' Her smile made his leg too feeble to carry the weight of his entire body.
First, nobody had ever referred to him as 'Mister' before. The phrase was for men who wore shirts and ties or owned a job behind a desk with other men screaming down their throats to either get the job done or get lost.
He brought his mind back to the present, Rahim was looking at him with great concern.
"Don I know how much your daughter means to you, I will find her." Rahim gulped his drink, stood up, and walked towards the door.
"I have lived and survived the hardship of this town, my daughter doesn't need to experience any of these hardships. Find Dora." He said with finality and walked to his desk. He could see the beach from his office on the 20th floor of his DDC office complex in Tampa Bay.
"About the other business, Jack reported that he narrowly escaped his grasp. He dealt him a blow on the face but Rita had used pepper spray on him so the guy got away." Rahim said.
"Did he get a facial recognition?" Don asked with a sign of anger on his face.
"It happened so fast he didn't see anything worthy of identifying the man," Rahim responded.
"Keep one of the boys on her, I want to know her every move. Can we get one thing don't without excuses?" Don said sharply.
Rahim knew better than to say anything. The Don likes to listen to results not excuses. He quietly turned and left the bitter man to himself.