I knew something wasn't right the moment I set foot on that flying deathtrap and came face-to-face with that same smug Hlurcht, still telling me not to smoke. A lot of cops will go on about intuition. Instincts. Gut feelings. Truth is, it's all pattern recognition. It's the subconscious knowledge that you've been here before, you *recognize* this, and you know how it ends. I was getting a hell of a gut feeling looking at that sanctimonious little snail man. He knew exactly what Jey was planning. This was a familiar dance to him. We were both tapping into our pattern recognition, but only one of us was fully conscious of it. I had a gut feeling about that, too. I had gotten the same feeling working at ESI, just before they told Sam to kill me. I reached for my cigarette, then made myself stop. Had to save room for hors d'oeuvres.
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