chapter  7
7 Pages

Hanging on with legal help

WithJonathan Downie

His name didn’t matter, although it was written in dark letters on the torn and bent ID card he flashed at the front security camera as he limped into the building. He plopped his bag down on the security belt, yanked out his tablet and headphones, carefully placed them on a separate tray and wandered up to the body scanner. As the scanner checked him for hidden articles, the security belt pulled in his bag and tablet, ran its own scans and pushed them back out the other side.