Breakdown
Chapter Ten: I Know Not What Magic I Cast

CAUTION: Slight Half-Homo Joke here

The Mole is the one whom doesn't make sense, whom doesn't fit in, who is the subject of a contradiction, who is where they shouldn't be. Did anyone notice? I told you – and I swear now… that it wasn't Bill Hawks – And yet, I listed - Layton. Dimitri. Hawks. Luke. Clive. Flora. Chelmey. Do you get it now? I cannot accuse and clear the same person, for the same crime. Yet… somehow, I am. Unless, the obvious – in one way, is seen.

"I Name Thee… Caroline Hawks, original founding member and current leader of the criminal syndicate, Targent!" Everyone shocked, other than the woman sitting in the corner of the room, at the end of the pointing finger. She merely raised an eyebrow, to Joshua's amusement. "Well, I see someone's smart. You get the pointer finger, and immediately know that you may as well resign."
She sat there, silenced for a few seconds. When she opened her mouth, her voice was slightly lower than how it was usually, and her voice was slow and methodical. "Indeed so, Prosecutor. I will warn you, it would be difficult to get me indicted… but, since there are no reliable witnesses here, I'll give you what you want." She slid her hand into her pocket, pressing something. All of a sudden, the room was filled with small pockets of smoke. An EMP. Well, it would be expected. "Indeed it is so… I am the founding member of Targent. However, I must also point out… this means nothing in the destruction of London…"

"Unless I can irrevocably tie Targent to the crime. I think… I can guess how this wor-"
"What the devil is this? Cease at once! I could get you deported easily!"
"Already being deported." He spoke tiredly, as Bill interrupted the duel.
"Executed!"
"When I'm in Germany?"
"I'm sure they would co-operate." He held an air of tightness around him.
"Unless I was on good terms with the PM's son." He giggled darkly. "Very good terms…"

A flashback to a night during a case where he was invited to stay with the PM and his 18-year-old as well son at the Police Department after a particularly stressing case – which soon turned into a wrestling match to see whose neck they could get the reddest. Ah, that was hilarious. "Ha! `And we still had intact clothes on the entire time! Wrinkled, but intact! `" Joshua nervously rubbed at the scruff of his neck, where the reddest mark was left. It was still rather pink – then again, the other had the same. Not to mention he came from up there as well. No repercussion.

He was snapped out of his flashback by Caroline coughing quietly. "Ah! Yes… indeed… what I was going to say was… I think I can guess how we're going to play this out. One piece of evidence, right? One Piece of evidence to irrevocably tie the syndicate to the Crime?"
"… That's just what I was thinking. Do your best… one piece is not sufficient though, yes?"
"… One Piece of Evidence? Oh, I agree. Impossible. But, doing it with no evidence at all… is quite straight forward." They both looked at each other resolutely in the eye… and the game had officially started.

Joshua closed his eyes, starting to consider his options here.
"The reason I said that evidence was hard… was that, with even one piece of evidence, it would prove that Targent actually didn't commit the crime, simply because… a syndicate of that size, would ensure not to leave something behind… one thing… hacking traces. Because, after all, that's the only way to control it remotely – but, as I full well know, the only way a computer can be accessed is through a connection of some form. And, Clive would know this as well, and, as such, wouldn't install an internet wireless connection, or, as it happens, a wireless transceiver. As it would seem, he installed a communications system to be able to contact other people around the machine. However – he also placed a standard radio system all over the place. And, if you were to use a wireless connection for things like that, then it seems extremely extraneous… to have every single system in that place wired together."

"Somewhat impressive… but, still, one piece of evidence. Give me one piece of evidence that fits all of your cute, little, theory together."
All of a sudden, Joshua's smile broke into a grin. "Well, as I said… you wouldn't leave evidence… you keep it around… which is why… I want you to turn out your top right pocket."
Her face flushed white. "Lucky guess?"
"… Strategy. Or, rather, symbolism. Because, the evidence I'm looking for… is essential to your life… and, well, it's like an inhaler for you. And… that's where you put it. Later today… you would put on a show… of fainting, and the First Aider would check your pocket, finding you're inhaler… and, immediately, they would be forced to dispose of the main, empty cartridge…"

And the game was well and truly up. Slowly, smiling politely, she removed the inhaler from her pocket, and handed it over. Joshua twisted away the cap, revealing a bulky USB memory stick. Quickly, he tossed the stick over to Chelmey, who looked on, confused. "On that stick… are two stories…one of the Azran Legacy, and its endowment of potential destruction… and the other, is of a dystopian past, of lies, and deceit. These are stories that are powerful. Stories… often are. These ones have leaked into the events of this world. But, at the end of the day…

"The Best Laid Plans O' Mice And Men, Go Oft Awry"