Derrick was sitting in his office at home, typing away at his laptop, when he responded to a phone call of his own. He recognized the number. “Hello,” he answered.
“Sir, it’s Rick at the front gate,” the guard stated. Derrick’s secured community required all cars to be screened before gaining entrance to the grounds. “There’s someone here to see you.”
The attendant stepped halfway out of his hut and responded to a request from Derrick. “Is there a name?”
The driver’s window was down all the way. “Roshnie Gill,” was the answer relayed to Derrick. At the same time the rear left window was partially lowered. When the guard resumed his post inside his hut, he confirmed Derrick’s expectations: “East Indian. Very striking, Sir. Alright,” he said, hanging up his phone. Stepping out of his booth, he added: “You may proceed. Number 4 of the North Quadrant.”