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not protect ourselves against physical and emotional obstacles to our health? Would you have us live in the Dark Ages?” he asked.

  Nate shook his head. “No, not the Dark Ages. But I think there is a fundamental difference between taking medicines and the wholesale replacements of vital organs. If we become more machine than man, then we are no longer men.” He glanced back at the bookcases and sighed. “If others are happy with that, then so be it. I just don’t think it should be forced upon those of us who don’t want it.”

  Dr. Han wrote one more note and closed the folder again. “You don’t need counseling, detective,” he said. “And you don’t need to be tied to a desk. Frankly, I’d feel safer having you out doing what you do best. I’m recommending that in my report to your captain.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “We might not agree on the topic of artificial body parts, but I do know that your opinion is derived from a sound mind.” He then stood up and offered his right hand to Nate. The officer shook it. Then Dr. Han handed him the report. “Goodbye detective and good luck.”

  Nate hurried back to the police station and met with Captain Forrest. He gave his boss the recommendation from Dr. Han. Forrest warned Nate that if he had any more physical issues on the job, he would be permanently assigned to desk duty. Nate promised the captain that there wouldn’t be any more problems and he made a mental note to start using the gym on the fifth floor a few times a week. He quickly exited the captain’s office and hustled over to Penny’s desk, where she sat typing on her computer. Nate was anxious to get back to work and he wanted to know what progress had been made in the investigation.

  Penny stopped typing when she noticed Nate standing behind her. She turned toward him. “From the look on your face, I’m guessing you’re done with desk duty,” she said. Nate nodded as he peeked at the data on her computer screen. Penny had been composing a document with recent bank and phone records of the five victims. She pointed to her screen. “I’m trying to find any connection between the victims,” she said. “Canvassing has been a dead end.”

  Nate leaned closer to the computer screen. “There aren’t any major deposits or withdraws from any of the accounts,” he said. Penny dejectedly nodded. “I don’t see any similar phone numbers either,” he added. “How much more to the report is there?” he asked.

  “Not much,” said Penny, flipping through loose papers on her desk. “I’m nearly done.” She continued typing as Nate looked over her shoulder. Soon she was finished. The detectives read over the material together, and both came to the same conclusion. There was nothing useful in that data. Penny angrily pushed her chair away from her desk with her feet and she skidded to a halt. “So, now what?” she asked, glaring at her partner.

  Nate shook his head. “What is the one thing we are sure they all had in common?” he asked, folding his fingers together.

  “Besides being dead?” asked Penny. She rose and walked over to a table in front of a nearby wall. Nate followed her and watched her pour coffee from a glass pot into a ceramic mug. She carefully sipped the hot liquid. “Honestly, I don’t know. They were different ages, from different parts of the city, with various socio-economic backgrounds. They didn’t attend the same gyms or churches or dry cleaners or restaurants. And there’s no evidence that they knew each other.”

  Nate swiftly pointed at his partner. “But they were all robbed,” he said, excitedly. “That’s the key. It’s so obvious that we completely overlooked it.” He turned and rushed over to his desk. Penny put her cup down and followed him.

  “We didn’t overlook that,” she argued as she leaned against his desk. “That was the first thing we thought of. We just can’t figure out how they were targeted.” She crossed her arms and watched with bewilderment as Nate typed in criteria on a search engine.

  Nate then pointed to his computer screen. “That’s it,” he said. “I’m sure of it.” On his screen was the homepage for the National Medical Database. “It’s not that they were robbed,” he said, “but what was stolen from them that’s important.” He wiped some sweat from his forehead with the back of his right hand. “I’ll bet this is how the killer chose his victims.”

  Penny shook her head. “This database isn’t open to the public,” she said. “It’s only available to doctors and nurses. We can’t even access it without a warrant.”

  “But a hacker could,” said Nate. He stood up with a confident grin. “We need to subpoena their records for every login for the past two months,” he added. “If we’re lucky, the hacker may have left a trail of breadcrumbs for us.” Nate raced over to the captain’s office and knocked on the door. Then he and Penny discussed their theory with Forrest, who agreed to request the legal paperwork.

  The medical website’s administrators agreed to provide access to the site, on the condition that the police department kept their involvement a secret until any trial began. Nate and Penny met with department computer analyst Rita Owens two days later as she mulled through metadata from the site. After three hours of searching, Owens came across logins from an IP address that was not accounted for in the website’s records. Though the hacker did a good job masking his search patterns, Owens was skillful enough to find hits on the records of each of the five victims. She also found hits on four other patients’ records. However, she couldn’t trace the IP address back to the user, since the hacker used sophisticated programming that bounced the location all over the globe.

  With Forrest’s approval, Nate obtained police protection for the potential victims, who were quickly and quietly rushed into safe housing. The officers knew they would have to set a trap to snare the killer. Nate was close in height, age and body type to one of the men on the list, so he volunteered to work undercover.

  Nate assumed the identity of accountant David Cross. He lived in Cross’s house and he visited the same stores, bars and other establishments that Cross typically did. The body makeup supplied by the police department gave him a remarkable resemblance to Cross. Nate went about his charade while Penny and Forrest kept in close contact with him.

  On the third night of the undercover operation, Nate walked toward the Cross home with two bags of groceries in his arms. He strolled through the neighborhood streets without attracting attention from those he passed, including a man walking his dog, a hooker waiting for work on a corner, and a neighbor sitting on a stoop listening to a radio. Nate had a tiny transmitter on his belt buckle that he could tap if he needed assistance. He was just two blocks from the home when he felt something hard pushed into his lower back.

  “Don’t turn around,” said a gravelly voice. The object in his back was pressed harder against him. “Keep moving and don’t make a sound,” said the intruder. Nate did as he was told. With his hands occupied, he couldn’t get to the transmitter. They hurriedly moved toward an alley and the gunman pushed Nate into the dark corridor.

  “Take what you want,” said Nate with forced calmness. “I won’t give you any trouble. I’ve got $50 in my front pockets and you can have the food too. Just don’t kill me,” he pleaded. Nate immediately realized that he was no longer acting. His heart pounded in his ears and his mouth was desert dry.

  “Shut up!” ordered the gunman. He pushed Nate forward, deeper into the alley. “What I want is inside of you.” Nate stumbled forward and took the opportunity to drop the bags and tap his belt buckle. He knew that assistance was less than one minute away.

  The detective turned to face his assailant. The gunman stood six-feet tall with a muscular build that was punctuated by broad shoulders. In the dim light that poured from the apartments above, Nate saw the bushy mustache that covered the upper lip and the tattoo of a lion on the man’s left cheek. He also saw the .45 Magnum in the thug’s right hand. “Turn around!” shouted the gunman.

  Nate stood still, trying to buy time. He knew that if he turned around, he was dead. He looked into the killer’s murky brown eyes and held his breath. The man took a step closer to Nate and r
epeated his last command. Nate closed his eyes for a moment and slowly turned his body. He understood that the time to act was now.

  The detective quickly ducked and spun back toward the gunman. He swiftly chopped the weapon out of the man’s hand and punched him in the stomach. The killer grunted as the gun skidded away from them. Nate grabbed the man by the collar and rammed him against the near wall. He heard footsteps pounding toward them and voices shouting. The assailant then reached into his right boot and pulled out a steel knife. Before Nate could react, the killer drove the blade into the policeman’s chest. Nate slumped to the ground with his hands over his wound as the other officers subdued the attacker.

  Nate opened his eyes and saw Penny and Forrest sitting over him. They were inside the back of a vehicle that was moving quickly. An emergency medical technician held an oxygen mask over Nate’s face. The detective pushed the mask away. “How bad is it?” he asked. The EMT quickly put the mask back over his face.

  “Try not to talk,” said Penny. Nate saw the tears in her eyes. “You need to save your strength.” Nate tried to push the mask away again, but Penny held his hands. “The knife punctured your heart,” she