It was almost half six when Jason Devron got out of the taxi and walked up the short driveway to a modest looking three-bedroom property and former home of his grandfather.  He took the card he’d been given at the solicitors and placed it on the scanner pad next to the front door.  It beeped twice and the small red light was replaced by a green one. The door unlocked and opened swinging inwards; closing again one Jason had entered the building.  Lights came on automatically in the hallway where Jason stood, flickering briefly before settling down to a soft gentle glow.

What greeted Jason was a scene of totally chaos and devastation.  The first thing he noticed was a few scattered items on the floor in the hallway; but as Jason made his way from room to room, it was clear the whole place had been ransacked in the search for something.  Cupboards with doors open their contents strewn across the floor, likewise any draw.  The sofa and chairs in the living room ripped open, foam pulled out in large chunks.  The bookcase lay face down, but apparently not before every book had been removed checked and discarded.  Serval pictures removed from the wall, frames broken.  One of which was clearly of a young George Devron in his Cadets uniform.  The kitchen to had been turned upside down cutlery tipped across the table a broken plate on the floor and there was a faint hint of rotting food, the refrigerator having been disconnected, though Jason chose not to look inside.

Upstairs the bedrooms; though one had been turned into a study all displayed the same signs of utter carnage.  Jason noted though that there had been a complete lack of computer or portable devices anywhere in the house, despite it being obvious that some had been there at some point.  Someone had even looked in the loft space; the ladder was still in the down position, hatch propped open.

Jason re-entered the larger of the bedrooms and flopped down on what remained of a once rather nice double bed.  He still had the package with him but as yet had not gotten round to opening it.  Technically all this chaos belonged to him now; as to what anyone may have been searching for, when they turned the place upside down he couldn’t even begin guess at.  He lay back on the bed closing his eyes to think.  The mattress wasn’t exactly comfortable having been sliced open in several places; his backside sank slightly into the hollow space created by the removal of part of the mattresses innards.

One eye opened cautiously, may be in the hope that by squinting through it; the room would somehow look less of a disaster site.  It didn’t work!  That one eye did however catch sight of something in the broken mirror.  Hovering outside the window, oblivious to the fact it had now been spotted, a small surveillance drone was watching the young lieutenant.

Devron quietly and carefully got up, pretending he was still clueless about the little aerial spy behind him.  He picked the package back up and calmly walked into the bathroom, closed the door and sat down on the toilet seat.  When he checked the small communication device he had in his pocket, it wasn’t registering any signals.  Which either meant there was a fault somewhere or alternatively he was being deliberately blocked from contacting anyone.  If it was the later, that made this situation possibly very dangerous.

Curiosity finally got the better of him and Jason ripped away the outer brown paper of the package.  Inside a box with the lid taped shoot. He ripped off the tape and flipped open the lid.  Held in place by a hard foam mold were two objects.  A standard issue Starfleet Padd and a Type 2 Phaser of a design more common around the period of the Dominion War.  The phaser had an 83% charge, and on careful examination looked to be fully functional.   The Padd however was locked, and would require a thumb print to activate it.  The thumb of the right hand of Jason Devron to be precise; but not it would appear the Jason Devron currently holding it.

He needed a plan, a plan to get out of this building without whoever was operating that drone noticing or possibly destroy the drone.  Then he needed to get back to Jersey and get his brother to unlock this Padd and discover what if any information was contained within its memory.

The first thing to figure out was whether the drone; which looked very much like the one he’d seen in Chicago yesterday was simply following him visually or was tracking him some other way.   The only thing he had on his person which might have been traceable was the communication device he’d been carrying around with him.  So Jason took the decision that if he was going to make any attempt at escaping, he’d leave that behind.

The bathroom had a manually opening frosted window; but in the same way the drone wouldn’t be able to see in, if it was outside the window Jason couldn’t see out either.  Then a brain wave; picking up the phaser he adjusted the setting and pointed it at the floor.  It didn’t take long to cut away a section big enough to fit through, and as luck would have it he was more or less lined up with the kitchen table.  Placing the weapon and the Padd back in the box to protect them, before leaning down through the hole he’d created and dropping it on the kitchen table.  Then he simple turned himself round and gingerly lowered as far as possible before he too dropped on the table.

Jason spotted a satchel type bag which he placed the Padd into, but kept the phaser in his hand.  Moving carefully and quietly around the downstairs rooms; taking a peck through each of the window.  When he spotted the surveillance drone hovering above; Jason adjusted the phaser once more, opened the window carefully, pointed and fired.  The beam struck the drone, which staggered to one side struck the side of the building, spun away and dropped into a bush.  The young lieutenant jumped out of the window and ran.

**********

At the same instance the drone was hit, the young blonde who’d been monitoring the images it was sending, jumped back in his seat, flinging the head set he was wearing down.  Two of the screens in front of him displayed only static the third an image of first sky, then brick work, sky again, grass, followed by dark shadow.

“Get the team in there quick!” Exclaimed the voice of the man half hidden in the shadows. The blonde grabbed the headset once more. “This is Falcon to Osprey, you are a go.” He called down the mic. “Be advised we have lost visual at this time and Tango One is armed.  Repeat Tango One is armed.”

**********

A few minutes’ later three figures in charcoal grey combat gear beamed into the front garden of the house.  Though they wore helmets with tinted visors it was clear all three where human and one of them female.  She and one of the two males carried Type 3 phasers; the other man, who appeared to be the leader of the small group held the latest model of the Type 2.  He took from his breast pocket a pass card which allowed him access through the front door.  With the door partially open he signed that the other man should head round the back of the property.

With the women at his side the leader searched each of the rooms of the house.  It was she that spotted the communication device sitting by the sink in the bathroom after she’d moved around the hole.  The man took it from her, turned it in his hand then threw it off the nearest wall. “This is Osprey; Tango One has flown the nest and left the tracker.”  He spoke into a communication mic attached to the inside of his helmet. The pair of them headed back downstairs where they rejoined the other man. “Pick us up.”

Moments later the three figures were bathed in the light of transporter beam and whisked away.

**********

For the next few hours Jason Devron made a meandering crazy dash from the house to the shuttle port at Portsmouth.  He wasn’t sure if he was being watched or followed at any point of his journey; first by foot and then using local public transport.  It was getting dark when he boarded the Transit Shuttle to St. Helier. The journey was relatively short and there weren’t many people on the shuttle.  Which gave Jason a little time to think and plan what he was going to say and do.

On the island he managed to get a lift off a local, but only three quarters of the way, the rest he had to walk.  So it was around 10pm when he knocked at the door of North Lodge.  The Romulan woman who’d identified herself as Monic opened the door. “What are you doing here at such a late hour?” She enquired keeping her voice relatively low.

“Do you trust me?” Jason asked in way of an answer.