A fishy odor lingered in the steamy midnight air by the waterfront. Two drone cameras recorded the acts of the criminals and notified the camera across the street at Jubal’s Restaurant and Jazz Club. The police command station uploaded the video and flashed it on the computer screen. Chief JP Fuller flipped through the screen and frowned. He paced back and forth while he rubbed his thin hair. Sweat dripped from his face when a text message popped on his timepiece. His eyes grew wide, and a silent groan slipped from his lips. Fuller’s hands were wet with sweat. He thrust his fists in his pockets and widened his stance as he frowned at the photos.
“Chief, did you notice the new video?”
“Yes. Dispatch someone to turn off the alarm. We know the intruders. Let the humanoids handle them.”
“What do you think they stole?”
“Computer chips. But again, let’s wait for the humanoids to deliver a report. I have an errand and will return in an hour.” He turned, rushed out of the exit, plopped on the car’s seat, and raced from the city center to a wooded, secluded region of Romala, Texas.
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