Business first.
Brad climbed out of the opulent silk sheets of the palace guest room and walked into the en suite. As he ran the water in the shower, waiting for it to heat up, his mind was already at work.
He would need a new, clean identity. He admitted to himself that his plan in Paris was not fool proof. In the Information Age, destroying the paper does not destroy the data. Copies may have been made - faxes may have been sent. They may not be good, but they were lingering remnants that could cause trouble.
He would need a new vehicle - he could not rely on Terra Group transport. There would sometimes be things that needed to be done, that Terra Group should not be involved in. His goals may not always be in line with those of the group.
He would need a soul.
As he shaved, he wondered how things had gone badly. Tossed about like a plastic bag in a wind tunnel. Remembering the last time he'd been the victim of fate, he lost his concentration and drew blood.
The sight did little to improve his mood.
He opened the door to a familiar sight - lying on the ground, a copy of that day's local newspaper. He picked it up to look at the headlines.
The paper was actually a decent read. Still finding its feet after the recent change of government, the paper was still conservative, but they'd stopped putting "Hail the Dictator!" at the end of their editorials. Not being part of a media conglomerate, they didn't try to spin things as more widely-read papers did.
Today's headline: Four men murdered. Identities unknown - they were apparently foreign sailors whose wallets had been stolen when they were killed.
While the case interested him, Brad dropped the paper on the floor and headed off to find an officer. Terra Group's jurisdiction was a little broader in scale.
Business first. He had a lot of business to attend to, and it wasn't going to be pleasant.