As always, I do not own or make any money from POI. Please read and review, it you like it let me know, if you don't let me know. It is how I learn.
It was very late in the evening; the computer monitors reflected light back into Finch's glasses as he stood in front of the desk. His eyes searching the screens as the pictures changed in front of him. Finch's face was drawn; lack of sleep was catching up with him. The small bandage on his right temple showed dark against the glow of the monitors. There was a look of worry and concern etched deeply into the lines on his thin face, the small scab just below his right eye could just be seen. His eyes surveyed the six monitors as his fingers on the key board changed the video feeds, his fingers froze. He tapped a couple keys and a single video feed popped up onto the center monitor.
His whole body stiffened. There in the video feed was the New York night skyline, shot from Brooklyn Bridge camera number 30 SE. It showed a dark clad figure in an overcoat walking toward the railing of the bridge. Finch could see the man's long hair being whipped about his face as he neared the edge of the railing. The figure grabbed the railing and looked over, looking down. Finch felt his heart speed up, felt the tension in his tired body react to the surge of adrenalin. He'd seen this before, but it was no nightmare.
His Machine had followed a similar long haired, tattered clothing figure once before, that man had been his hope…his end to a festering problem and even though that man had climbed to the top railing he had not jumped that evening, It now seemed so long ago.
The Machine identified the man in the live video feed, a red box appeared around his head as he turned his face back over his shoulder, as if looking for someone. Under the red box a text appeared. 'target found'. Finch reached up and tapped his right ear.
"Mr. Reese I found him." His voice carried a note of worry and tiredness. It was soft and full of trepidation.
Reese's voice spoke to him through the ear bud he wore. "Where is he Finch?"
Finch heard the tension and pain in that voice that he had come too trust. He swallowed and adjusted his glasses. Remembering, watching as the man on the video feed hooked a foot onto the bottom railing and started to climb.
"Finch!" Finch jerked as the voice shouted into his ear.
Finch drew a deep breath in. "Mr. Reese…He is exactly where you were on the Fourth of July…five months ago." His voice was soft, as if speaking to loud might make the man he was watching on the center monitor take the next step up on the railing. his hands reaching for the next hand holds. "Hurry Mr. Reese….Hurry…"
POI