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"See? Now this is just another reason I don't like to watch the news. They just get so many facts wrong. The weather is going to be nice. Wrong. This person is dead. Definitely wrong. There were no witnesses to this murder. Impossible. There had to be at least one."
MoosehatIV on
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cj iwakuraThe Rhythm RegentBears The Name FreedomRegistered Userregular
edited August 2010
"The news tells people what they want to hear, and not what they actually need to hear."
Kowalski removes the chrome device and it's attachments from their foam insert in his suitcase, scooting his chair toward Vic as he does so.
"They're required for all agents, you need them to use any of our gear, and, in the unlikely event that you're trapped in some hellish otherworld we can sort of find you! Not that that happens often. Anyway, uh, this will spread some iodine on your skin, cut you, jam a chip into the cut, and then squirt liquid skin in it. It will feel odd, but please not to move your arm."
"Refuse. That's cute, kid. I mean, they didn't tell me that I had a chip in me for like... until a couple days ago. Did they frisk you when you came in the building? You mighta got chipped without knowin' it. These guys are always going to fuck you over, no matter how much they smile to your face."
Vic frowns. His anonymity is quite important to him, and having a track chip installed is high on his list of no-no's, However, anything that can be installed can be removed. Then preferably put into a raccoon to lead them on a wild goose chase. He slowly slides up his sleeve with a cold look in his eyes.
With a bit of effort the smile returns to his face, "Oh you know these government type places. Instant crap coffee in a can. The wheels of democracy run on the stuff."
Kowalski shakes his head as he screws the first of six round disks onto the device's narrow end. "You've all been watching too many bad movies." The short man rolls around the table, implanting everyone's chips in under a minute. The doorknob rattles, and a man sticks his head through the doorway.
"Hey, we got some stuff for you guys, also, Simmons wants to have a word with Hank."
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Vic rubs his arm, frowning. At least he will hopefully be able to get his hands on some of their more powerful technologies with this implant. Maybe something useful. Maybe something valuable.
"What happen to Carrie, the demon car?" Motley said. He liked his old Mustang back home. Station Wagons were too slow for his taste. But no one names a car unless it's a nice, fast car. And no one names a car after a psycho chick who burned people with her mind. Unless it was red. Cherry Red.
Vic smooths the creases out of his suit as he stands and walks. Despite the hard soled shoes, he barely makes any sound when he walks across the hard ground.
"We get a car? And here I thought they would just hand us bus tickets."
"I think you should find me a gun. They didn't like the idea of me having one. Something about "instability:. And then, in exchange, I just give it to ya. I'm not much for the subterfuge."
Horseshoe on
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cj iwakuraThe Rhythm RegentBears The Name FreedomRegistered Userregular
edited August 2010
"I've a vehicle of my own, but thanks." While opening the door to an easily overlooked Civic, any remaining without a ride would be looked to.
"There's room, if needed."
"There is a pistol in the glove box if you would like. Try to keep the waving it around to a minimum while we are on the road. I am not sure if the warrants on you truly expire after you are dead."
Hank pulled the pistol from his glove box, checked to make sure it was locked, and slid it into the empty shoulder holster. He plopped the file in Vic's lap.
The file contains six pieces of paper, each bearing an address, list of phone numbers, and a key stuck to the paper by a dot of adhesive goo.
So... we got what look to be skeleton keys and a list of places and phone numbers. You're 'The Ghost'. So what would you do if someone say... dropped this in your lap?
"I've a vehicle of my own, but thanks." While opening the door to an easily overlooked Civic, any remaining without a ride would be looked to.
"There's room, if needed."
"Uh, I could use a ride." Dan says. He gets into the passenger seat of the civic. "Thanks."
Vic glances over the sheet and shrugs, "I would first want to know exactly what these places are and where you got this information. Then I would make a comment about out of the two of us, you clearly being more of a ghost than me."
"Good one. It's Vic, right. Anyway... Simmons gave 'em to me. The one without a name on it is apparently mine. The rest are for you guys. Keys look to be the same to me... wondering if Simmons told you anything that makes more sense than this."
Hank rolled down the window partially to let the smoke blow out.
"Otherwise... it sorta looks like hit work, don't it? You get some addresses, some numbers, and you find your target."
Vic shuffles the papers a little longer before putting them into the center console. "Simmons didn't tell me anything. Just that I had been employed and to check out this disturbance. I also somehow doubt that we are to kill our fellow investigators."
Dan saw one of Hank's meaty hands extend out the window... and then extend its middle finger before going back into the car. Apparently, that was a "yes".
"Alright Vic... you wanna know why I made you privvy on this? Because we got something else the others don't. Criminal Instinct."
Vic glanced over and made eye contact for a moment.
"Yeah, you know what I mean. A lot of this shit doesn't add up. It's like working for the Mafia. The only reason they never killed me is because I never gave the guy with the gun or the knife a chance. These Valkyrie guys? Just like 'em. They think I'm not listening, then I hear things.
The way I see it, you and me got the best chance of gettin' out of this shit. These other cats are sharp, soldier boy can probably hold his own in a straight fight... but when shit gets wierd? Well... guys like you and me expect it to go wrong."
Hank tossed his cigarette out the window and lit another.
"So tell you what. I don't give a shit what anyone else knows. You know somethin', you tell me. I know somethin', I tell you."
Vic puts the car into drive and begins heading out of the parking garage. He allows the others to catch up before pulling onto the main road and driving safely under the speed limit.
"Criminal is a harsh word. Let's just go with just Instinct for now. But I do like the way you think. If things go South, I can assure you I won't be dying in some god forsaken hole with some beastie from beyond. If you have the same plans, we could definitely work together."
He smirks and slips on a pair of dark shades from the holder, "You can trust me, Hank."
Posts
Kowalski removes the chrome device and it's attachments from their foam insert in his suitcase, scooting his chair toward Vic as he does so.
"They're required for all agents, you need them to use any of our gear, and, in the unlikely event that you're trapped in some hellish otherworld we can sort of find you! Not that that happens often. Anyway, uh, this will spread some iodine on your skin, cut you, jam a chip into the cut, and then squirt liquid skin in it. It will feel odd, but please not to move your arm."
Hank suddenly made an odd face after his last pull on the cup.
"What the hell is in this coffee anyway?"
With a bit of effort the smile returns to his face, "Oh you know these government type places. Instant crap coffee in a can. The wheels of democracy run on the stuff."
"Hey, we got some stuff for you guys, also, Simmons wants to have a word with Hank."
Hank walked to the door and slammed it with his palm. As it swinged open, he walked down the hall to Simmons' office.
"What kind of stuff?"
As you file out into the hall you see that only half of the lights are on, and the building is almost empty.
Hank was visible approaching from the direction of Simmons' office, a sheaf of files in his hand and a nub of a cigarette in his mouth.
"What, were you guys going to leave without me?"
Eleanor sounded almost bored in tone as she followed after the pack, placing her notes into the satchel at her left.
"We get a car? And here I thought they would just hand us bus tickets."
Vic smiles his endless smile and unlocks a grey, unimposing sedan with his electronic keyring.
"Yeah, sure."
The thug entered the passenger seat of the unimposing sedan. As Vic entered, Hank smiled, lighting a cigarette.
"Vic... I got something... interesing here. Might be worth your while to see it."
"Really? Should I lean in unknowingly?"
"There's room, if needed."
Hank pulled the pistol from his glove box, checked to make sure it was locked, and slid it into the empty shoulder holster. He plopped the file in Vic's lap.
The file contains six pieces of paper, each bearing an address, list of phone numbers, and a key stuck to the paper by a dot of adhesive goo.
So... we got what look to be skeleton keys and a list of places and phone numbers. You're 'The Ghost'. So what would you do if someone say... dropped this in your lap?
"Uh, I could use a ride." Dan says. He gets into the passenger seat of the civic. "Thanks."
Hank rolled down the window partially to let the smoke blow out.
"Otherwise... it sorta looks like hit work, don't it? You get some addresses, some numbers, and you find your target."
"Though I suppose it is possible."
"Alright Vic... you wanna know why I made you privvy on this? Because we got something else the others don't. Criminal Instinct."
Vic glanced over and made eye contact for a moment.
"Yeah, you know what I mean. A lot of this shit doesn't add up. It's like working for the Mafia. The only reason they never killed me is because I never gave the guy with the gun or the knife a chance. These Valkyrie guys? Just like 'em. They think I'm not listening, then I hear things.
The way I see it, you and me got the best chance of gettin' out of this shit. These other cats are sharp, soldier boy can probably hold his own in a straight fight... but when shit gets wierd? Well... guys like you and me expect it to go wrong."
Hank tossed his cigarette out the window and lit another.
"So tell you what. I don't give a shit what anyone else knows. You know somethin', you tell me. I know somethin', I tell you."
"Criminal is a harsh word. Let's just go with just Instinct for now. But I do like the way you think. If things go South, I can assure you I won't be dying in some god forsaken hole with some beastie from beyond. If you have the same plans, we could definitely work together."
He smirks and slips on a pair of dark shades from the holder, "You can trust me, Hank."
Hank blew another cloud of smoke out the window.
"So... you already know how Valkyrie found me. How'd they find you?"