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Blade Runner 2099

Cash Money Chad

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"Alright, so you are walking down the side of a desert road, you see a old man attempting to hitch hike, he's got a weird look in his eyes. He starts coming closer to you."

A brown haired, blue eyes, white male asks sitting across  the table from a young woman in her early 20's with raven black hair tied into an oddly shaped bun her band curling just over her eye lashes with long flowing hair running down either side of head head, both are dressed in business suits and smoking cigarettes in dark blue room as smoke permeates around them.

"I would call the police.." 

"You're phone is dead, the sun cooked the battery." He said exhaling his cigarette

"Why is he following me?" She asked with a blank demure expression on her face looking only slightly confused.

"Because he wants to butt fuck you and take your money, he's getting closer, he's almost there, what are you going to do?"

She sits there stunned silent with a hint of panic in her voice and expression. "I I, can I defend my self?" 

"Can you defend your self?" He asked putting out his cigarette 

I don't know, what do I have." She seemed to have trouble understanding the situation and her limits and capabilities just sitting there stunned and confused.

"He's on you and he's holding you by your wrist, he's pinning you down and tearing at your clothes..." He stops and takes a heavy sigh and closes his eyes briefly before lighting up another cigarette out of anxiety.  There's a look of sadness on his face realizing that he knows what he has to do." That will be all, an officer will take you in for processing, "  The man got up from his seat slowly his eyes drooping focused on the cigarette in his mouth at it burns away, an hunting reminder of his own mortality. Another man clad in slacks a white dress shirt and suspenders walks over to the man." Jones, she's the one? " Jones looked up from his cigarette and looked into the stocky mustached man's eyes. "Yeah she's defective at least." Jones said in a somber tone now looking back at his cigarette watching the seconds of his life just burn away.

"If she's defective then we got her, we got the skin job who offed that pimp and those low life Johns down on king street." Jones put his cigarette in a near by coffee cup that happened to be sitting next to him on a shelf. The room was filled with the constant click of key board typing and what seems like the incoherent white noise of receptionists answering 911 calls. Jones took a heavy sigh" And you're sure she's the one?" He said looking over at the stocky man with a stone faced expression. " That's what the evidence says." The man held up a bag with strands of black hair and hints of scalp around the ends." Tore it right off the back of her head in a struggle." Jones Shook his head "that doesn't mean anything." The stocky man shrugged and said, "This is what we got along with fished out corpses with their arms broken and their jaw bones crushed. It was either a skin job or the fucking Terminator, and I don't think Arnold is going to pop out of his grave any time soon. "

"Have it your way, I'm taking off gonna go have a drink." Jones walked away from the man with his head hanging low and a melancholy expression on his dower face." Johnny, don't take it so hard it's just another defective replicant, this is your job, suck it up!" Jones kept walking towards the door" suck my dick.." He mumbled" What was that?!" Jones turned and looked over at the man." I'll get over it!" He said walking out the door, making his way down to the street. the rain came down hard forming a mist along the dimly lit streets, the mist now carrying the light from the neon signs around his filling the air with a cascade of colors that helped illuminate the detailed carvings along the sides of the tightly packed buildings.

As he walked he passed by two people playing an arcade machine, they looked like hookers or pleasure units he didn't care and he was in no mood to question them. Just walking by until he made his way to a local dive bar. He could barely open the door from how densely packed the place was. He weaved through the crowd of people, all wearing street clothes with glow in the dark patches and chains, he passed by a girl who's face was covered in rainbow piercings, she smiled at him and he smiled back, Jones didn't  really get the fashion of the times but he really didn't care about these young people he just wanted to get drunk, forget about his day, and let his life burn away one cigarette at a time. 

Jones leaned on the table  looking down at the glass of whisky in front of him, he let out a deep disappointed exhale through his nose staring at his reflection in the whisky glass with a thousand yard stare. Suddenly he jumped a  bit looking over his shoulder to see one of his colleagues taking a seat next to him. " Is the work day over already? where dose the time go?" Jones asked rhetorically and sarcastically, picking up his cigarette and looking over at the clock. "The work day isn't  over is it?" He said in a mumbled voice with his cigarette burning in his mouth as he looked over at the man sitting next to him.

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"The fuck you mean he's dead?!" An angry officer shouted in disbelief, luckily he was in the investigators with office with sound proof walls, safety and all from prying ears, "Grendel was the guy for the operation, and two days later his information is gone and body found, what the fuck happened out there Christy?"

The young man, or late twenties well dressed man, was livid. Why one might ask? It involved two very specific things: an infamous drug lord known as Little Debo and a possible catch on the weapons dealer for illegal arms. Jason Fyre had worked months on the two, digging in, gathering the evidence and was this close to catching the bastards. Most people nowadays kept everything in the online files, sure, papers were useful, bit still it bothered him how much information was wiped out. Little Debo, names mimicking that of the Little Debbie snacks and a certain antagonist from the 90's movie Friday. 

"What I'm telling you is there is no furthermore evidence on this matter," A well dressed woman in sharp blue clothing, pixie cut blonde hair and piercing blue eyes said, clearly not as happy about than Jason was, "We don't have any leads either. Someone hacked into our system and deleted everything. And not a simple soft wipe either."

Running his hands through his own short brown hair, Jason leaned against the table with both hands then looked to Christy, "C'mon, we have the printed proof don't we? Or did you get a little "tipsy" with your wine splurge again?" 

That remark caused the woman's face to redden but said nothing, cocking an eyebrow glaring knives at her lesser associate. She pushed herself from the desk, the rolling chair creaking as she stood up. She was well taller than Jason who stood at 5'9", standing at a whopping 6'5". God, Jason thought to himself, the woman had the curves in the right places, double D's that could be used for pillows and definitely had thick thighs. A few nights with Christy allowed the guy to "inspect" the tall woman. And for as tall as she was, she was also bearing some serious guns, taking self defense and martial arts classes for the job while keeping a healthy diet. Suffice to so Christy could have been a pro athlete or a supermodel, fuck the police business. 

"I know you're as mad as I am, and yes, we have most of it. Unfortunately it takes time to process everything and I've been busier with paperwork than actually getting out in the field." Christy stated, looking down at the man. 

Jason turned from her, slowly exhaling loudly as he needed to think about the situation. Almost, they almost had the two fuckers! He turned back to the woman and was about to say something before she cut him off, "Do you... want to go out? Supposed to be a fine dining restaurant." 

"Reservations?" Jason asked curiously, his mind taken away from the subject at hand. It would be nice to go out with a friend. Why they never moved onto the whole "boyfriend-girlfriend" stuff was simple; they didn't want to ruin their friendship. It had been some time since Jason had any "action," and besides, a good place to eat wasn't so bad. 

"Applebee's." Christy gave him that shit eating grin she always did. Fucking lush, Jason thought, always after the margaritas. 

The man gave his own smile and said, "Friday then?" 

"It's a date." 


Jason waltzed down the busy street... a lie. He wished it was busy, right now the rain poured hard and the street was nearly vacant. The rain had that effect sometimes. Friday's Jason was usually off unless called into work for something important. Though he forgot which day this was, it was a work day and that's all that matter, the job paid well and he got to be a cop like he always dreamed of. Though those Sheriff's and Bandits shows were a complete lie, he couldn't help but feel... refreshed with a shot of disappointed. Five years into the line of duty and it rewarded good money but there was a lot of drama and bull crap to deal with. His heavy trench coat helped to repel the heavy downpour but his Texas Rangers ballcap didn't, damn thing was soaked. 

Needing a place to drown some sorrows, suck them up and cram them in some poor hookers mouth, Jason saw the bar halfway across his sights. Walking now toward the building he noticed two women, both maybe in their mid thirties playing an arcade game. As much as he wanted to hire then and just let loose all the stress, the guy was a cop, and last he checked it was a big no-no to get physically involved inti someone who might have some disease. From the people to the packed building, Jason hated the city. He remembered growing up in the country, doing his share of yard and house work, the fun times fishing and doing a lot far, far away from the city. If he could, Jason would certainly go out and live with his parents again, maybe even build his own house later on.

Jason entered the bar, the densely packed building doing nothing to help his current stress. It just was never enough for these people. From their drama to their vices, it really sucked he'd dealt with everyone like these. Shaking the thought from his head, Jason slid his way past standing and sitting bystanders, he then saw an empty seat next to one of his fellow employees... whoever that was. He knew he'd seen the face at some point, sometimes in the office or here in the bar. 

It was never common for the guy to come here though, Jason only drank to relieve the days disappointments and that was only rare. As Jason came up and say down, the man nearly jumped out his seat which caused Jason to say, "Don't piss yourself now." 

Jones, that's who it was, though barely a memory, Jason never had to deal with the guy until now. As matter of factley, Jason didn't really associate himself with anyone else in the department. Christy, but that that was really it, he wasn't one for working with others he as didn't have a necessarily good background with partners. One accidentally shot himself after tripping and landing on the gun, the other turned out to be an informant for one of the two assholes Jason was hunting but fell into the ironworks, and the next got hit by a train. Three more after that, none of his faults, but still it rattled the guy enough to work alone. Everyone knew that he had this reputation, even was questioned by the bigwigs in the upper management about the events and never seen him guilty. Just freak accidents. 

"Yeah. Fortunately or unfortunately, pick your poison," Jason replied to the man's question before sighing, ordering a quick shot of something light, "It kinda felt like someone threw me under a bus, got skull fucked by Kong, and then threw into the Arctic Ocean."

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"I'll need a few more in me before I start pissing my self in public."

"You're not here to drag me back to the office, I've never seen you come here before... Don't take this the wrong way but I hope the bus killed you... Now if my detective skills are anything to brag about, I'd say you had to find somewhere anywhere to get a drink because 'lil Debo' wont be checking into club Fed? I'll take another stab in the dark and say someone in our happy little precinct has his pockets spilling over with blood money. " Jones took a swig from his drink, and took a pull from his cigarette, his words were muffled by the constant back ground chatter and modern "Rock" music that Jones didn't even pay attention to. 

"Jason right? Johnathon, might as well call me Johnny everyone dose. I think it makes me sound like some hot shot." Johnny didn't think of him self as hot shot danger just came with being a Blade Runner, when you have to hunt down and kill human beings that were far more physically and mentally capable than your self you got to take some risks. He never looked at him self as any kind of hero in fact he just saw him self as a police sanctioned murderer than anything else. That's why he came here, he didn't care about the crowd or the culture he just came here because it was the closest place in walking distance to get drunk and just forget about it all in a cloud of neon lights and noise drinking away his feelings until he was a shell of a human being go home with a woman who he barely knew, go to work, rinse and repeat.

Jones lifted up his drink" To another day in the life in this shit hole." Clinks glasses with Jason once he got his drink." Annoying question but are you ever going to go out with Christy? I've never spoken a word to you but as much as she talks about you it's like I read your damn auto biography." He paused to let Jason answer. "We used to be good friends but I had to "retire" someone from the same series as her, never felt good about it since, looking into those cold dead eyes it felt like I shot her in head.. I better stop my self before I prattle on about it, if you didn't know don't let it bother you, a person is a person regardless of whether they came out of a lab or a vagina, and she's good people."

"Texas rangers huh? what brought you here.. I doubt it was that warm California sunshine, that hasn't existed in over 100 years."  Jones listened as he finished his drink and signaled the bartender to get him another one.

As the conversation went on he started to think about those hookers at the arcade machine, and not just that they were hot but that the one standing to the side was also about 6'5, they were pleasure unit's but Christy's series model was the same height, she's not a pleasure unit at least the series it's self wasn't intended for it, they are usually either for high intensity labor or military grade combat units. He wrote it off thinking that some dudes have an amazon fetish and she's just a knish unit. He grabbed another cigarette from his almost empty pack and lit it up, his eyes widened a bit when Jason got his attention derailing the train of thought he was on.

"It's nothing I was just thinking about those hookers I saw on the way in. The short one's all me but if you want a ride on hooker mountain I wont say anything." He joked before taking a drag off his cigarette not able to get those two hookers off his mind even after he dismissed the thought. He took his drink and  swigged it down before asking for another.  

It wasn't long after he finished his drink before he heard the faint sounds of sirens coming from out side, "Son of a bitch!" He said getting up from his stool and walking out the door with Jason to see a crowd of people gathered as paramedics and police descended from the sky. Whatever eyes were not craned upward were focused on the ally beside the arcade. Jones went over to investigate and he stopped before he even went into the alley, He saw a corpse laying at the opposite end of the ally limbs twisted and mangled with the bones sticking out with blood still flowing from the open wounds where the bones broke through,  his chest had been completely caved in leaving a deep baseball sized dent in the shape of a fist where his heart is located. His eyes looked scared horrified but like they were begging for mercy rather than the shock of someone who had been killed in a mugging. Jones shifted his eyes around the corner of the alley seeing a trail of blood that would soon be washed away in the rain if he didn't move fast.

"Jason!" He drew his gum and nodded in the direction of blood. Jones sprinted down the dark alley  looking for any form of evidence along the way. he reached a four way intersection and looked to see any more blood that might lead him to where the killer was located. " you can confirm that was one of Debo's guys right..or what's left of him anyway?"


Edited by RadChad
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With his first shot down, Jason smiled amusingly. This guy knew a little more than most, that or he was taking wild guesses and was pretty lucky... chances of the latter were very slim. With the comment of, "I hope you got hit by a bus," Jason chuckled at the thought. Shit, if only this guy knew the half of getting hit by an actual bus. Luckily he might have a ticket to that fateful meeting one day, and Jason could comment in return but continued this guy's droning. If he didn't look familiar Jason would have ignored the guy. But as soon as the name was given, Jason gave a raised brow. So he was another Blade Runner? That's why the guy 

"Right between the eyes, bud," Jason stated, "You deserve a cookie of intuition. Jonathan... Jones if I'm correct? I'll just call you that, Johnny's a bit too cliché for my taste. But hell, you kinda have to be a hotshot to get anywhere nowadays." 

Jason wasn't much of a drinker, by the third one he'd be warmer and more awake, and he raised his glass and clinked it to Jones's, saying after him, "Another life in this shit hole." 

Jason took his second shot, now his cheeks warming up to the effects of the liquor and he felt more laid back. His shoulders and back relaxing and a building migraine that dissipated for now. It was a hell of a week, Little Debo was still out there but for now the Blade Runner needed to hang back, relax, and calm his nerves. It'd do no good for anyone if he was anxious and irate. That was difficult when you have upper management, not Christy, plowing your ass as to why this situation wasn't resolved yet. Jason Fyre just lost his best lead, and now he has to start all over from six months ago. 

"Ah, the million dollar question," Jason said with a sly grin, "I've known her since we were kids. Used to live in the tropics of Kansas being so close to the coast and all. Our great grandparents were from Texas, you see, and they started a fishing and farming business as friends. It wasn't until her rich ass uncle, George Maxwell, decided to move the family out here in this shit hole. Business opportunity my ass, bastard wanted a better partner than my family, but, he eventually crawled his way back to them. She left when we were thirteen, I couldn't go to the city because of the dangers, help out family and finish school, and she was forced to go to martial arts classes and take trade school. 

Once I moved here about five years ago for better money to provide for my folks, Christy actually got me into the academy, personally taught me how to fight and how to handle the law. Three years ago I became a Blade Runner, thanks to her. We have a... friendship that we wanna keep, no promises of dying old together, not bound by marriage, we actually preferred it that way. And trust me, she started fucking with people by saying how she was one of those "dangerous pleasure bots," they left her alone not just because of the muscles but because Christy could seriously fuck and kill a guy at the same time of she wanted to. Most guys got their arms twisted in half if they tried approaching her like she was some whore. And it's fine man, I've... seen worse shit than half these wannabe gangbangers, and sometimes that "shit" happened to be the worst of mankind." 

Jason realized he was droning on until he quickly stopped himself. He might have given more information than he'd liked, but it was the effect of drinking and actually talking to a human. The subject was quickly changed when the next question was asked to which Jason grinned again. Ah yes, fucking California, how he loathed it. Whereas this state and others around it was nothing but wasteland and massive cities, Texas was flooded years ago, an archipelago, and Kansas was between jungle and plains that lead to desert. He thought about how his folks were doing now, he'd been sending them some money out of every paycheck and spoke to his ma a few times. 

"Money's why I'm here. I could move back to good ol' Kansas but a few years ago my folks had a hard time getting crops started and a bunch of boats got damaged in a storm, so I'm lingering around here for a short while," Jason replied, truthfully poking around the idea of moving out of here, "You should try visiting the South, not a whole lot of... whatever California is... you alright man?" 

The man added about the two hookers, and as Jason assumed it seemed Jones was thinking the same thing. Hire them, fuck them, and be over with it. A lot of pent up anger built inside Jason would prove quite helpful, but he digressed, "Pfft, sorry man but they're both your's, I wouldn't stick my dick in something that's had a cock five minutes ago. I might be low but I'm not desperate." 

And that was when the sirens could be heard despite the loud music and the people within the bar. Throwing his ballcap back on Jason spun out off the turnable stool and rushed just behind Jones. Exiting outside already Jason could see the descending ambulance and police vehicles, and if they weren't there first the crowd was already looking down an alleyway. And then he saw it, a mangled corpse with twisted limbs and a pool of blood beneath it. Him, more specifically, as Jason flashed his badge saying of the sorts, "Police! Stay back! Passing through!" 

As soon as he approached the body the man was quick to dig around the poor souls pockets until finding a wallet. Bryce Colegrove, someone he didn't know. Jones asked a question but Jason ignored it, shaking his head in response to the half he heard. He checked for a pulse but found none, clearly the man was dead with that hole in his chest if not from the blood loss. He then heard John say something, to which he turned and saw a trail of blood that was readily washing away from the rain. Dropping the wallet on the corpse Jason pulled out a steel 5.56 Pistol, a weapon deadly even for a cop, but useful for a Blade Runner. 

"We won't get any real answers if we don't follow that," Jason said, "C'mon, if we can catch up we might get a glimpse of who did this." 

With that, Jason took off in a sprint, having his gun ready for any real action. A glimpse, as he said, not capture the murderer. Already they must have had a head start of well over a minute, however whoever the assailant was they were sloppy. The blood trail was leading his into the deeper alleyway, he was more focused on the objective that Jason didn't realize he was running much faster than a regular cop. Hell, even a Blade Runner didn't run the fast. If Johnny had ran ahead he'd either been passed or already caught up, either way, Jason could feel the excitement build up.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Moments before Johnathan and Jason arrived to the scene of the crime, the two pleasure models were playing an old Ms Pacman game from over 100 years ago. " Come on come on, no no no! DAMN IT!!!" The petite pleasure model said in irritation, irked that she had died on the last level and would have gotten the high score if she didn't catch a slight snag that allowed the ghosts to catch up with her. "I'd feel bad for you if I could feel." The taller pleasure model said with a slight smile watching the little one throw a tantrum implosively thrashing with no care for anyone around her.

With a shrug the tall raven haired unit shrugged and placed her had on the smaller unit's shoulder" Calm down I'll give you a cigarette. " She pulled a pack from her purse and stuck two cigarettes in her mouth, lit them both and handed one of them to the smaller unit. They walked off into the adjacent ally passing by some cyber punks and a Chanting monk. They weaved through the crowd paying little mind to anyone around them not even caring that they were almost burning people with their cigarettes, even the ignoring the WTF looks on their faces. They strolled deep into the shadows of the alley settling against the  corner  and people watched for a moment.

They stared blankly at the sight of the densely packed lined of people that passed by in the alley way. They said not to word to each other in this moment just staring at the diversity of the people on front of them, people of different races religions and cultural back grounds all passed by them through the waves of blue lit smoke. Their minds churned observing how these people seemed just as disconnected from the world as they were even with their emotions they failed to see how they were any different from the ignorant masses that populated this city. Staring out into the cluttered river of people with their hands over their cigarettes to shield them from the rain. 

Just then a man approached them, "Hey you ladies look a little lonely maybe we can all get out of the rain and have a good time together." Both Pleasure models looked at the man with blank expressions before the tall one threw her cigarette into the rain. "Sure we can have a good time, if you give us what we want..If not you're going to be left out of the fun." She said with a clod sinister glare walking over to the man and rubbing his arm slowly feinting interest." The man's eyes lit up when he felt the woman's cold smooth hand against his arm." Sure babe, if it's money you want I got plenty of it. You just pick the.." He paused for a moment then winced and grunted in agony from her vice like hand squeezing into his arm." It's not money I want, it's information, would you happen to know anything about a man named LIttle Debo? See we like rich powerful guys small fry, and we want to find him to have a little.." She gripped his arm tightly causing several compound fractures in his arm "Party, with him..if you know what I mean?" The man begged her to let go professing that he didn't know the guy or anything about the gang. "Too bad, shoulda told me what I wanted to know..I guess we are going to have all the fun without you..too bad." She said with a playful coyness as she twisted his arm shattering the bone.

The man fell to his knees and the little one walked over towards them, with a grin on her face she turned her hip and threw a punch that broke straight through the man's ribs, and with a big gleeful grin she twisted her fist inside him then pretended to feel sympathetic towards him. "I did say we would leave you out of the fun, but I didn't say we wouldn't include you.." The tall unit twisted the man's arm grinding the shattered bones of his arm together with the same empty aloofness one would make when grinding pepper onto their food. The little pleasure model stared into Bryce Colegrove's eyes savoring the pain and fear he expressed in them while returning his gaze with nothing behind her eyes but dark impulses.

"You sure do have a thing for fisting guys." The tall unit said with a playful smirk on her face as she watched the man die  his blood leaking into the streets around them their clothes and skin covered in blood, it ran down their bodies and into the ally floor as the rain hit them." It makes me feel big and strong." The small one said flexing her little arm as blood ran down her fist. "At least you can feel something." The tall one said with a shrug as they strolled through the alley the blood ran from their skin leaving a trail behind them. They turned the corner and they heard the scream of someone finding the body.

Jones and Frye  ran through the ally way fast  Jones had already made it to the end of the alley before the trail ran cold, Jones turned around and looked around the ally seeing if there was any blood on window ceils or fire escapes. He turned back towards the crowd looking for something that might give him any clue but it was all cyber punks and young 90's business men herded along the crowded streets of Los Angeles. "Jason do you see anything?!" Jones asked looking along what ever open side walk he could see for a possible sign of a blood trail. He walked back into the dark alleyway not knowing that he was being watched, by cold merciless eyes. eyes that saw everything, his face the way he moved, the clues he was looking for everything that could be used to characterize and identify him, then those eyes locked on Frye as he made his way around the final corner of the ally, both pleasure units had managed to cross the street and watch from atop the roof of one of the tall high rise buildings that lined the streets of LA.

Both had killed two other pleasure units hiding their bodies in dumpsters and stealing their clothes while burring the old ones in a hobo's barrel fire.  They stalked their prey examining the blade runners who could potentially be a threat or a target. They stood unmoving statue esc as pillars of fire erupted from one of the many factory buildings in the distance. They watched as Jones stood on top of one of the cars to get a better view before he ran through the crowd weaving carefully while Jason just yelled for people to get the fuck out of the way. They turned to each other and nodded in agreement that they could not stay there, walking away once Jones ran directly to the near by barrel where they had burned their clothes.

Jones Knocked over the barrel and let it roll into the rain before examining the contents there were old news papers some burned little cyber punk hooker clothes characterized by a mostly melted dog collar and hot pink short shorts, along with that a strap of a black velvet dress charred and nearly incinerated, it looked familiar to him but before he could remember where he saw this Frye told him to come here lifting up the lid of the dumpster to find two pleasure units with their necks hanging like broken bobble head dolls. 

Edited by RadChad
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The trail of blood ended at the end of the alleyway, and Jason Fyre curses under his breath. Water trickled down from his ballcap and onto his face before touching the collar of his shirt, and taking it out and stuffing the cap in the right pocket of his trench-coat he began to look around for any signs. The blood was on the ground, and as Jason continued his search he found a rain water puddle muddled with blood. Lots of blood. When Jones hollered at Jason he replied, "No! Nada!"

Jason began to grow anxious until he found another blood trail almost disappeared from the heavy rain fall. He readied his pistol until coming up on a dumpster, and raising the weapon he used a free hand to lift the lid. A mixture of disgust and disappointment could be seen on his face, and he slammed down the lid as he called over Jones. Two dead pleasure units, their necks... he'd rather not think of it. Shaking his head as his associate ran over, Jason confirmed what or was before Johnathan could look in there. Their trail was cold. Just great. 

The Blade Runner began to ask people if they've seen any culprits or spectators around, however no one answered, either knowing and not wanting to get involved or they really hadn't a clue. Sighing in defeat, Jason walked over to Johnathan before stating, "Trail's cold here. No one's seen anything or don't want to get involved." 

Jason couldn't believe they got away, and he had the feeling it was the two units standing at that arcade machine. He walked over to where the flaming barrel laid, hot embers quickly cooled from the rain. He examined the clothes, a mixture of synthetic cloth, plastic, and what he could smell was rubber. Carefully, Jason used his gun to move things aside, such as the melted and burnt portions of the clothing. That's when he spotted something, a sheen of silver barely poking from the ashes of the short now darkened shorts. He lifted the thing and discovered some payment card that was  Shaking his head again, Jason stood and strolled over to Jones who seemed aggrivated or disappointed... or both. However looking over the card he noticed something on it. 

"Hey, check this out." Jason stated as he used a clean... cleaner puddle to wash away the muck. The card was half burnt but was clearly not a payment card but rather identification. Identification of one of the two units now dead. He knew it would be fruitless to check it, but, in case they needed to they could find something on it. 

"I didn't know these gals carried cards with them nowadays... Ones missing, I just found this one," Jason said handing the thing over to Johnathan, "Maybe something could tell us about these two? Why one's missing and the other discarded?"

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Jones took a dep breath to calm down and stared at the ID card then went to have a look at the bodies, "Well I can add this to the pile of things I will see in my nightmares. He tired to add a little levity to the situation then handed Jason the clothes he found, look familiar? Looks like they all got caught in a avalanche on hooker mountain." Jones joked to try and make him self feel better what he didn't know was that the culprits were watching him as he made them, once they knew they ran off and hopped from building to building before they descended and merged back into the crowd. Jones had a look around to see if he could find the silhouette of the tall unit that had escaped but it was no use.

He went and had another look at the bodies wishing he didn't have to but he found it odd that the two units in the dumpster were both short and tall, they could have a clue, he found it strange that they took the time to find identically proportioned pleasure models, maybe it ment that there was a bigger connection here who knows." I find it strange that they took the time to pick these two when fleeing a murder scene. what dose it say on the card? if it says anything at all.." Jones thought to him self that maybe the two just didn't empty out their pockets or that maybe they kept one card intentionally. "I need more booze" He opened the lid one more time and drew his pistol and examined the faces of the dead pleasure units, with his free hand he took pictures of them hoping he can comb the police database from possible matches on the manufacturer.

"I'm heading back to the station... after I buy a bottle of liquor," Jones walked back into the alley and toward the bar they had just came from to buy a bottle of booze and take it with him, he clutched it as he slunk back to the station. Once inside he sat down at his desk and started looking for matches for the models they had found in the dumpster. It was a boring night of drinking and looking at pleasure models, he used the cereal numbers to track down the manufacturer having lifted it from their eye lids earlier as he examined them with his gun.

He took a swig of booze as smoke rolled through the air in front of him, the only light being the blue glow from his monitor. He vaguely remembered seeing the something on the card a logo mostly charred and burnt but the pattern seemed similar enough to the logo on the scree. He sent Jason a text asking him if he had put the card into evidence yet, after hitting send he stared at the screen, his mind kept rolling with possibilities as to why they would need their manufacturers ID, he decided to pay the company a visit in the morning but for now he would sleep at his desk letting the cigarette burn away and condensation rolled off the liquor botte as it heated in in the smoky room.

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