John Trent stood on his front porch and plotted murder. The security would be a problem, this he knew. He had equipment to aid him in that area but he was still worried. Keith would have state of the art security. That man was so annoying. But John didn't have to worry long about that. He would put a stop to Keith Richard. Keith had run the homicide division of the NYPD for three years. At a young twenty six, he had made quick work of the chain of command. John remembered the first day he saw Keith. It was two weeks prior, during a memorial service for a fallen comrade of his. John had watched from the cover of trees nearby, for the man lying in the coffin knew his killer. That killer was him. The NYPD was after him. They didn't know his name or his address, but they would soon enough. That is why John had to get into Cop Central, find Keith, kill him and erase and steal the case files. He had to do all of this by the end of shift the next day. He needed more time to plan, was his only thought. But there was no time to be had. The police had already compiled a fairly good case against the murderer. They just had to find that murderer, match whatever trace evidence they had and his goose would be cooked. Hm. Goose. That would be a good last meal as a free man. He wrote that in the note book he had gotten from his desk. There were drawings of the Lieutenant's office and of the security setup. He had a sinking feeling that the act was not going to be successful.