The band entered the rave site. As Petra expected and Levi knew, it was a derelict warehouse. From the outside, it was nondescript. It was grey, rusted and seemed empty, like the five others in the industrial park.

"The plan here is to get a job." Levi said.

"That sounds nice." Petra agreed.

"Also, we should not eat anything we are offered. We won't know what's in it."

"Do you know who to ask?"

"The bouncer."

"And we'd be fine?"

"Probably."

With that, the pair gingerly approached the door. Quiet music was audible as the grey dilapidated walls slightly quaked at the bass. They found the small white door the band disappeared behind. Levi knocked on the door. "Care to pay?" The bouncer – a broad, tall, muscular man clad in black with no hair and menacing blue eyes - confidently opened the door.

"We're looking for jobs." Levi said.

"You two together?"

"Yes." Levi decided after a quick glance at Petra.

"Let's see a card."

"What?"

"You can't be the police." Petra handed her card as Levi followed suit. "Ah, the opposite. That's quite a bounty." There was a pause as the bouncer stepped back. "Come in and wait right here."

Officer Hernandez knew that searching the city would be mundane. Yet, it was what he was paid to do – as usual, it was not his passion (though he loved to see it as his talent).

The East New London dispatch that talked to the band had left, yielding to Hernandez's more qualified team, conveniently opening up the playing field for Hernandez.

The roads were quite empty, leaving Hernandez to presume the worst. There were no odd police calls – no awkward "wrong number" hang ups that usually signalled a hostile hostage situation, no random home alarms or home invasion alerts and no pings on the public transit or CCTV. The pair were luckier than they could know.

The pair had had to be inside. Presumably, they would have eaten. They would, likely, not be far from Stratford – the station where the band's van was. It was difficult to say much more. Derelict or otherwise empty buildings were being prioritized, but in the decadent district any other priority would have been optimal.

"To catch a rat, you have to think like a rat." Hernandez muttered, weighing each possible move.

The pair did not get vengeance either – a band member would have gotten some frazzled word out otherwise.

Hernandez paused. His partner, some generic detective, stopped as well. "What is it, sir?"

"Is there any footage of the band members?" Hernandez asked.

"No. Why?"

"It's harder for more people to stay under the radar. The band may be on their side."

"Are you suggesting-"

"I don't know what that means, but either it's not good news for us or it's not good news for the band."

"It'd be hard for them to make allies."

"Yes. But the band and the criminals are likely to be in the same place."

"But, sir, we can't find either."

"We'll search on." Hernandez sped off. The partner followed.

Luckily for Erwin, charisma led to lasting friends. Dot Plixis was a college friend of Erwin's who was more connected with the world Peter and Erwin desired to get into.

After all the niceties of a reunion, Erwin set off on business: "So, DP, where is that 'basement' you keep telling me about."

"Finally, Erwin, finally. It's… I'll send you the address."

"Thank you."

"What that all?"

"Yes."

A few more minutes passed before a brief goodbye.

"Now to find your daughter." Erwin said.

"The sooner the better." Ral sighed as they set off on the important journey.

The door opened into a louder room with three doors: the one behind them from which they entered, a small wooden one to their left and a larger metallic one in front. It was evident that the rave was behind the metallic one, but the white, carpeted and fluorescently lit room could have fit into any building. The bouncer held up his right hand and made a quick gesture at a mirror at the top of the room. "Wait a few seconds, alright." He told the nervous couple. "We won't bite your type. You may even join the family."

"Pardon my asking, but: family?" Petra said.

"So you're not mute. We, the workers in the basement, consider ourselves a family."

"That sounds very nice."

"Politeness won't get you far, missy."

"I'll learn."

"Let's hope."

An older man in a bilious green shirt and white khakis, also lacking hair, but without the muscle, appeared. "Prospective employees?" He sneered, basking in the ironically innocuous words' abuse.

"Yes." Petra said.

"Credentials?" The bouncer nodded as the couple handed over their cards.

"Unfortunately, you'll have to be in for life to break even on our investment."

"Investment?" Petra spat out.

"We're investing in you to keep your lives."

"Fine." Levi sighed, noticing that the two of them had been traded from one owner to another. At least this ownership was not quite as invasive.

"Give me a minute." The green-shirted guy turned. "Set them up on backstage." He called as he walked away.

"Go through the door and at the furthest corner, knock and say this: 'they are the prey and we are the hunters.' That's the password." The bouncer said.

The door revealed a white corridor that was too clean-looking to be criminal. The doors on either side were a light green. The walls were bare as were the doors, possibly, as Levi surmised, to make finding rooms a little more difficult for strangers.

The door on the far right was exactly as the other doors. Levi knocked. Noise was audible from behind it – still quiet, but louder than that audible in the other room.

The door opened and a man with short brown hair – gelled to stand up from his scalp – a black shirt and jeans stared out. "What?"

"We're here for a job." Levi said.

"Really? Say the password."

"They are the prey and we are the hunters."

The man paused. "Well then. Do you have any useful skills?"

"Just an education."

"Better than some." The man stepped back to let the couple in.

The area they entered was black. It was hard to see everything. Walls were hard to find, there were wires all about the place. A screen lit up an oasis in the darkness, revealing a soundboard and more wires. The man led the group to the left, away from the light. They walked between curtains as the volume of the music grew.

They came to the opposite side where a few instruments, more hidden wires and a few more stage hands lurked.

"This is where bands enter and exit." The man said over the music. "They get paid here and can leave instruments here at their own risk."

"What would we do?" Levi asked.

"You manage bands. They'll tell you how long they would like to stay on. You let them stay for exactly that much time."

"Is that all?"

"Some are a bit… stubborn."

"Thank you." Petra said.

"Remember to do your job well."

"When's this band getting off?"

"Check that sheet." The man indicated a tattered piece of paper. Petra walked to find it with a scribbled 14:23 under many crossed off times. A pencil was left on the floor. "Clock's there." The man pointed to the opposite wall where four red seven-segment displays indicated 12:13. "Ask anybody if you need anything." The man walked away.

Peter and Erwin reached the warehouse quickly. They knew precisely where they were going. It was still 1 pm when they reached.

The bouncer courteously scanned their cards and let them into the antechamber. "Mr. Ral? Are you the father of Petra Ral?"

"Yes." Peter said in a mix of joy and wonder.

"She came in with a young man, looking for a job."

"I'm sure she did."

"Are you searching for her?"

"Yes. If you could get us to her, that would be nice."

"And this… Mr Smith is with you?"

"Yes."

"Alright, please wait." The man threw another gesture at the mirror.

The older man in green came in. "I see." He said, quickly scanning the cards that the bouncer had kept. He returned the cards. "Follow me."

The men entered the white corridor, but went to the first door on the left, which was an office. It was a normal office – one from which a proud father of two would leave after a day at the insurance company, or one from which the younger mother would leave for an annoying sales meeting; not one from which the area's biggest illegal rave site was run. There was a wooden desk in the centre of the room with three chairs around it – two evidently for visitors. There was a computer, a calendar, a filling cabinet, a board and a bookshelf. The bookshelf actually had books and there was writing all over the place – enough that it looked very legitimate. There were even a few plants as book ends.

"Wait here." The man said, externally locking the door.

"Unexpected." Erwin said.

"Well, I can't hate it." Peter replied.

The door opened quickly. "They're on their way. Also, visors off please." The man said.

The two men handed over their visors. "It's an odd thing to ask, but since when were criminals this nice?" Peter tersely questioned.

"Our leader believes in two things: family and trust." The man leaned back, holding the visors. "These will be scrubbed."

"Trust, eh?" Erwin said.

"Reasonable trust." The man said with an edge in his voice.

"Sorry." Peter said. "And thank you very much."

"It's quite alright."

"Your father's here to see you." The man said. Petra was surprised. She was learning the ropes with Levi – they were trying to understand how the backstage was run.

"What?" Petra stuttered.

"Just follow me. You too." The man commanded, including Levi with his words and a turn of his head.

The pair followed. They entered the office in a minute and there they met. Levi and Petra blinked. "Dad…" Petra quietly said.

Peter sobbed first. He took a few steps and hugged Petra. "Thank God." He said, choking in happiness.

Petra hid in his shoulder, finding it oddly natural. "Thank God it's you."

"Mr Reiss. To what do I owe the pleasure?" The manager said on the phone.

"You haven't mobilized our crime links, I see."

"Unfortunately, the East London groups are a part of that Kenny's mafia."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Unfortunate. Do what you can."

"I have."

"Good, then. Let's hope you find them."

"The police aren't a threat."

"I'm aware."

"But we don't know about Ral."

"Of course. You didn't follow him, did you?"

"We are aware, from footage, that he's in London."

"Anywhere specific."

"Stratford, last we saw."

"And the twosome cannot be far."

"We will know."

In the misplaced office in the warehouse, the reunited family and the two friends had settled down. They spoke of the dreams and the research with the two older men revealing the full villainous intent of the REEBS corp.

"From a psychological standpoint, you two are doing very, very well." Erwin said. "It was hypothesized, with much support, that after waking from such a dream, the subjects would not be able to function and consider this world a dream."

"Yet, you trust that this is the real world." Peter added.

"I don't know how. I'm insecure, I'll admit. Part of me is sure that you're enacting a part of some program to have us believe that this is real." Petra quietly said, avoiding eye contact.

"I just trust the world." Levi said. "After all, we'd lose nothing if this were actually a dream."

"That rationality is strange." Erwin said.

"I don't know what I don't know and there's no point in guessing."

"That's nice." Peter said.

"I'm going to ignore all that, and tell you what I must." The man from the gate – the aged one in hideous green – cut in. "The boss wants to see you four, so you cannot leave yet."

"It's fine, thanks." Peter complied, too happy with the situation to care. With that the man left the room, locking it externally.

Hernandez hated the waiting. They were looking for the couple and most of it, by some miracle, was waiting. Waiting for the pair to blunder. Waiting for some magical footage. Waiting for a vigilante to report a sighting. Waiting to find the pair in East London. It was all waiting.

The police could not go to the rave site because they did not know where it was. In fact, even the underground links of the REEBS corps barely could help. The pair were in East London – that was all that could have been said since that morning. It was now 2pm. For eight hours, the pair eluded the police. It was a miracle, only explicable by a rave site. But the rave site was inaccessible to anybody with a police badge.

Hernandez, of course, was not always with the police. His third identity would get him into the rave site. But he would need a convenient excuse to switch into that one and he would lose the police power and protection.

This impasses led him to his phone. "Yes sir, that would be great." He told the superintendent. He had just contacted his boss to try to get an undercover team to search the rave site. The skeptical superintendent grudgingly agreed to try to get the permission to send out an undercover team. In the history of New London, this operation and knowledge of any rave site was unheard of. This was too unconventional for anybody's liking, but Hernandez was convincing.

Everything would be arranged with police celerity – or so the joke went.