Yep. Here you are. Tangible enough to feel with your rubbed in nose that 2ic was not kidding. They do know how to write down thoughts from that—what was the word, again?—something like "noosphere", and his, V's, private thoughts got in the common catch. Welcome to the bright brave new world, buddy! He sat back completely flabber-fucking-gasted.
So, that's it. The irrefutable discovery grossed him out. Sledge-hammered. It ran him over by the magnitude of all-pervading implications of what has been revealed right now. The proof still stood up before his gaze stuck to the screen. Well, I never…
The Samsung rang in his jacket's inside pocket. What?! Who could possibly know his new number? The number still used in no calls? He answered.
The moon-like mug of 2ic in the screen looked drawn and troubled. Too troubled.
'No time for talking, V. Just believe me. Run! Right now! You've got 30 plus seconds…'
What the fu… Hasn't he been… The number's compromised? And a whole pack of other thought-fragments shot thru V's mind while—the phone dropped back, the memory card grabbed hastily—he rushed to his apartment door. On the landing V paused, read the blinks of indicator of the elevator—two levels below, climbing up—and closed the door behind him, slow and carefully, no slamming.
He walked up the stairs and stopped on the upper landing trying to keep unnoticeable. The elevator slammed open at the floor just left by V to let thee men of a business-meant demeanor.
They neared the entrance to his apartment. One of them pushed the door ring button, the rest readied their sidearms. The ring resounding remained unanswered too. The man shook his head and produced a neat bunch of skeleton-keys. The door lock clicked submissively, the armed men entered the apartment, the lock tamer stayed back.
Now the hit men will see the switched on PC in the V's study, they will check his bedroom and the bathroom room, empty as well, and then…
V took a cautious backward step…
* * *
Where to? In 2 more floors the final flight of stares runs up to the securely latched and padlocked door to the roof. It’s a dead end confirmed by some of a teenage explorers who left their graffiti across the sheet metal in the door sealing the impasse, “Fuck you’re all!” Once V’s had a chance to check the settings after a recreational stick, he felt that time a nature lover awakening in him and ventured for a long and winding trek up. The endless stair flights for 3 floors and not a single water head along the way. He easily could die of thirst that time and emphasized wholeheartedly the other bro sociopath and his legend crowning the deed, askew yet sincere.