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Science Fiction in all my dreams i DROWN

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Lawbreaker, Oct 7, 2018.

  1. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Nicole Gravely, Mary Formal, LAPD Police Administration Building
    Location: Los Angeles


    Nicole found herself ushered out into the corridor without any answer to her requested phone call, why this apparently arrested prostitute was now free, and especially why no-one was dis-abusing her off her idea that she could "look after" a Portland police officer, let alone join this damn investigation!

    Despite being confused and on the back foot, she found herself beside the taller blonde as they were introduced to the wide form of the uniformed Sergeant Beckett, whose hands were out in a welcoming fashion that also subconsciously told them to hold still.

    "Mystery woman and Portlands finest, I assume?" He greeted.

    Nicole immediately felt more comfortable in the presence of a peer. Her own near-square gold police badge was hanging on a chain around her neck, and contrasted nicely against her plain shortsleeved black tee, showing him that she too was a sergeant. But just in case, "Sergeant Gravely. Uh, Nicole." She identified.

    "Mary Formal."

    "Okay. Captain asked me to get you up to speed so you can do a miracle and get the guy we LA fools can't."

    "Nobody thinks you are fools, Sarge." Nicole tried to reassure. "This is just about getting more feet on the ground and eyes on the case. I was only in town to pick up a prisoner. So, what've we got?" She deliberately used 'we' to dispel any lingering 'us and them' mentality. No cops liked out-of-towners muscling in on their business. They must be desperate to be so eager to pressgang the two women.

    "So the rough idea what we are looking for. Australian guy in his twenties or thirties. He uses an old gun to kill random people. Began with Ms. Portman, the movie star."

    "Movie star?" Formal echoed, beside her. "Automatic red ball."

    Nicole glanced up at her, confused at the terminology, then looked back up to Beckett.

    "Then an owner of an Internet cafe yesterday. Two girls in the street. A guy in a crowded club. That one actually caused a real panic."

    "I bet." Gravely's expression deepened as the multiple victims were reeled off, and she subtley tried to ease the proffered file from the distracted sergeant's hand.

    "Someone spotted him there, a woman called Maria Darcy. She said he told her to get lost. Australian accent. Too dark for a good picture."

    Doesn't mind being seen. She thought. And far from being random, sounds like he has specific targets in mind.

    "All downtown." Beckett continued. "He took the night off and resumed his ... work ... in the morning. A swimmer at Santa Monica, a whole family of a local IT specialist in Culver City. Three dead. One teenager among them. Only kid he got so far."

    She narrowed her eyes at the apparent inconsistency. The only kid? So what were the 'two girls'? Okay, 'girls' must mean younger women then.

    "He took a break and in the afternoon he killed a Korean housewife. Then a drug addict in his flat. Last two were in Korea town. Eleven in two days."

    She widened her eyes up at him. Why the hell was he being so hard on himself? They weren't that far beyond the usual Golden Period, where crimes were usually considered harder to solve after the first twenty-four hours. And this wasn't television; crimes in real life were only solved so quickly if some dumb frag tried to rob a cop bar or a Krispy Kremes, or something.

    "We just got another one in. Our guys are on their way to the scene. Ah ... and we got one failed attempt on a girl in Santa Monica. He shot twice and missed. Only time he missed. The guy ran, so we don't know who he is. But we got an eye witness there. He seems to be wearing a blue hoody and Jeans. All victims were killed at point blank range. One shot. Never more. He just shoots them and walks away. Usually when people realize what happened he is gone. So we got someone who claims to know the survivor. A woman called Sandra Preston."

    The blonde, standing to her right, interrupted. "Sorry, is Ms Preston the survivor, or the person who knows the survivor?"

    "I got her address in the file. Up on second level we got everything you might wanna have on all the victims. No connections so far. This guy seems to choose them randomly. We expect more victims to come. He seems to be back at Santa Monica so our people are looking for a guy fitting his description there. We got everyone on triple shifts. But so far ... the guy seems to be a damned Ghost."

    Nicole finally took the file off him, turning it round so that she could flick through the contents while he continued.

    "These are the basics. But the punchline is ... we got very little. Ballistics say he uses a rare and ancient caliber. A 32. We are right now analyzing the hell out of the projectiles." He shrugged. "If you ask me ... don't waste your time with Martinez and his guys upstairs. If they had anything we wouldn't draft two beauties like you. But he is upstairs if you wanna see a desperate cop. ... there you got one." With a sigh ... the only sign this guy needed to breath while talking ... he finally added: "My number is in the file, if you need anything."

    Now, the blonde, Mary, piled in. "I may have a line on your murder weapon-"

    Nicole snapped her attention up to Mary. She might have a use after all.

    "-but I will have to confirm. I'm going to need my own gun and ID back, though. And we'll need local badges."

    The redhead nodded at this. Her own Portland' shield ought to be enough let her onto crime scenes and suchlike, however actual LAPD badges or laminates to show that they had been deputised, would definitely make things smoother and aid across-the-board cooperation. "Mary's right. And we'll need a place to set up, Sarge."

    "And what are we supposed to do for transport?"

    Nicole figured that if they got their own car, they could use that as a rolling office for a day or two, but said nothing as actual desks up in the taskforce squad room would be infinitely preferable. Not least for the air-conditioning in this too-hot, too sunny, city. And the material on the victims, of course.

    Tag: @Lawbreaker
     
  2. StClaire

    StClaire Jedi Youngling

    Registered:
    Oct 17, 2018
    Annie
    Ray's flat, Santa Monica

    Changing men too often had the great advantage your lovers were hard to track. Annie felt slightly dirty for dealing sexual favours for a hide out, but she actually liked Ray. So it was okay. If she had a chance she would have hooked up with him anyway. Probably. She often ended up with men she found interesting and yet did not really like. Bad Boy syndrome. But she was save here. No way the man who tried to shoot her could know about Ray.

    Getting up she took one of his T-Shirts and put it over her naked body. She smiled when she realized how sweet this guy was. Having her stay here over night. He did not even take advantage of it. Well. She did.

    Taking her aged folder from her backpack she walked over to the kitchen and began to look for coffee. It looked like he had none. He had mentioned he was vegan, but why no coffee? Was there anything from an animal in coffee? She found green tea and a water boiler and sighed. Better than nothing. Still half asleep she prepared her tea and quickly vanished into the bedroom and checked her mobile. Twenty seven messages. Friends asked if she would show up on parties. All from yesterday night.

    She yawned and clicked through them. She had missed a good band at Charade. Also a DJ at Inferno Club. Also a bullet ... she was happy she missed the bullet.

    Returning to the kitchen she sat down and opened her folder and took one of the perfectly blank pages from it. She had her special pen for these letters attached to the inner part of the folder. Checking it was filled she began to write. She used perfect Chinese letters.

    My dear friend,

    thank you for your last message. It brings me comfort and joy to know these things and I look forward to your next letter.

    I must say I have quite a story to tell myself. One of attempted murder, hiding and grave danger.

    It all began with a dead blogger and a good friend of mine. I took the task you gave me in your letter from Sunday very serious. This is a rather long story, that I will tell once I have more clearity. But a chain of most unfortunate events lead to a meeting with Sidney. You might not know who that is. He is a serial killer who has killed a lot of people here. I am not kidding. I met him on the streets and he tried to shoot me. I ran for my life and escaped barely. My luck still works. I escaped him and have been hiding with a guy I met a few days ago at a bar. I kinda liked him and you know me - I would never have called a guy I actually like under any normal circumstances. I did yesterday and I am writing these lines from his kitchen now. I am afraid. But not as afraid as I expected to be. I do not fully understand why this has happened to me. I also am afraid Sidney will return to finish the job. I ...


    She was looking for the right words, when her eyes fell on an envelope on the kitchen. It was from Quentin Archer. She could not help but rub her eyes and look again. Then she took it up and weighed it in her hands. There was something in this envelope. Quentin Archer.

    must keep this letter short, because I just found something. I will write you later today to share my thoughts on this.

    Love
    A.



    She folded her letter quickly and put it into the envelope she had prepared. Then her attention returned fully to the letter. Had Quentin Archer send it before his death?

    She went back to the bedroom and picked up her phone, looking up Miles number.

    She called him right away and only now realized she still had the letter in her hand.

    "Hey there, sorry to disturb you at work. Miles, what exactly are you'd doing for a living again?" She tried to be sweet, while her finger ripped the letter open.

    Tag: @Lawbreaker
     
  3. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Kent Archer
    Weyburn Avenue 221b, Flat of Quentin Archer

    Mild curiosity took over when the printer jumped to life a short time later, and Kent rose slowly back to his feet to watch as it began to steadily deposit sheets of paper into the tray. His brow raised marginally, seemingly impressed. Malcolm had come highly recommended by a former colleague, and given the down payment, he had hoped he would live up to his inflated reputation. So far, he had exceeded expectations...and then some.

    "I know the girl, by the way," the man was saying as the printer carried on with its job. "Amy Cross. She is the one who did this social media thing for your son. Made her kinda famous. When you hired me I actually did a little search. Shall I locate her?"

    A frown crossed Kent’s features as he instinctively glanced back to the photograph in his grip. The young blonde standing beside Quentin certainly did not fit the stereotypical description of a ‘gamer nerd,’ but what did he know about such things? If she specialized in social media marketing, the content probably didn’t matter...especially if her interest in his son went far deeper than superficial means. Either way, Amy Cross served as a direct link to Quentin in the intervening years since their estrangement. He couldn’t possibly let that slide.

    “Yes, please do,” he replied evenly, his hand moving automatically to place the photograph into his suit coat for safekeeping. “I’d like to speak with her…”

    He trailed off when Malcolm cursed, noting that the man’s attention was now focused on the small stack of papers he had pulled from the printer. Something on those sheets had unnerved the usually unflappable bodyguard, which was reason enough for concern. Pressing his lips together firmly, Kent hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to retrieve the printouts from the man’s proffered hand.

    What he saw was a myriad of names, places, and phrases in capital letters that did not make sense or seem to have any clear correlation:

    IS ADRIAN MORREL GOD?

    GAMEFACE. TUESDAY AT 1600!

    MUST KISS CHLOE. LA IMPERIALE. TUESDAY. RICETT.

    Kent shuffled through them several times, his brow furrowed in thought and his head shaking from side to side with obvious dismay. It was like he was getting a rare glimpse at the inner workings of a man he never truly knew. Had he been that far removed from his son that he now failed to see things on even the most basic of levels? Is that why all of this remained a complete mystery to him? And yet, as he delved deeper, Kent discovered that the worst was yet to come – the final few pages contained far more disturbing connotations:

    IS AFTERLIFE A DREAM? IS HELL A NIGHTMARE? AM I AWAKE OR DO I DREAM?

    Those words written out in conjunction with the Wikipedia article on drowning was Kent’s first indication that something was terribly wrong. It held a much deeper meaning, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Quentin had genuinely suffered from some kind of mental illness. It certainly sounded like a desperate plea from someone who was struggling emotionally and teetering on the edge of destruction. Had he really committed suicide?

    And then he saw the rest...

    T R I T E C

    The letters seemed to leap off the page, taunting him with their simplicity. Like so many others, Kent had first heard the slogan in relation to his son’s death, repeated endlessly in the news cycle after word spread of Quentin’s fate. They say it was the last thing he ever sent out through his social media channels...but what did it mean?

    Kent was so consumed by these thoughts, that he did not hear Malcolm speaking until he mentioned the apartment and whether he should bring someone in to clean up the mess. In an awkward motion, Kent lowered the papers and glanced up with a solemn look in his eye. “No, not yet,” he stated with a firm shake of his head, taking a moment to survey the scene. “I don’t want to tip anyone off...I’m not supposed to be here, remember? I’ll come back later with Susan and do this properly.”

    Running a hand through his hair, he started to move away, but then stopped and stared down at the papers. A moment of indecision passed over his features before Kent finally relented and turned back to Malcolm with a sigh. “But I am curious about what you think,” he continued by spreading the papers out between both hands so that the other man could see them. “Does any of this make sense to you? Gameface sounds like a convention of some kind, which...wouldn’t be surprising. And La Imperiale? Is that a hotel, or a restaurant?” He shook his head again. “The only other thing I seem to recognize is Tritec...for obvious reasons...”

    TAG: @Lawbreaker
     
  4. SirakRomar

    SirakRomar Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 30, 2007
    Enigma
    The Anicon

    Suddenly she was no longer the Enigma, she was Elina. Maybe she was even Eli. The surprise was there, but she was very good at hiding feelings.

    Who was she kidding? She could not hide a thing from him . She lay her head aside.

    "Bomb the Bass. More your generation than mine." She smiled. "I like the energy of the song. Also I do not appreciate the message." She gave him a smile.

    "You could have hacked the cameras, you know that do you?" She now gave him a smile. They said the smile was reserved, but actually she was happy to see him again. She had not had personal contact in months. He knew that of course. It was always safest to assume he knew everything.

    "I did. Well, my AI did. But ... nothing better than the real thing." He looked st the boy when the boy was not looking st them.

    "So what are you so curious about? Concerned about my performance?" Elina asked and feel slightly offended by the thought alone.

    "Never." He smiled st her and laughed at her. She felt every emotional wall melting when he looked at her like this. She could not even look into his eyes. Did she blush? Why could he make her blush.

    "I wanted to see him." He nodded to the boy.

    "What is special about him? He looks like a lost little puppy." She said and tried to regain the fascade of being cold.

    "He is brilliant. Scaled a game for 5.000 players to a million. Any idea how long my guys need for something like this? Ah. I doubt they could even do it to be honest."

    Elina looked at the young boy.

    "You are brilliant, too." She then said and it was no flattering, it was a well known fact.

    "He got fire." The Man replied.

    "So do you." Elina replied and really began to get curious now.

    "Not like him. I burn like a huge field of glowing peat which nobody knows how to put out. I seen his work. He is the blue flame, that burns everything in it's way away." The Man looked at the boy as if he was in love with him. Elina wished he had only once in her life looked at her like this. "The Code just bows to his will." The Man replied. Maybe he was in love. An intellectual love that one could not understand if you had an ordinary brain like Elina had. Smart was the new stupid among these guys.

    Then her friend surprised her in a way she had never expected him to. He said the words she had never heard of him. "I need him. He needs to fix it."

    Elina nodded. This was important. She would not let him down. "You will have him. All of him." She assured him.

    The Man smiled, but this was the "good girl" smile that was reserved for her.

    "How is Annie?" He asked then. Elina felt the metaphorical knife to her heart. Again she tried to hide it and again she realized how pointless it was.

    "She is good." She simply replied. The Man looked at her and nodded. Then he turned to leave.

    "Next time I should advise you on your dress." Elina smiled after him. He turned around and smiled.

    "What? We IT guys like casual!" He laughed and turned to leave.

    "In 1999 perhaps." Elina smiled to herself and she waved the barkeeper over. "Champagne. The most expensive you got." She ordered and was already scared of what that might be.

    Tag: @DarkLordoftheFins, @Lawbreaker

    ooc: Unsurprising a combined post with Lawbreaker and @LordTroepfchen!
     
    Last edited: Oct 24, 2018
  5. Lawbreaker

    Lawbreaker Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2018
    2029

    The Anicon, On the Bund, Shanghai

    Jack smiled at him. "You are not even close man. Stop guessing. You haven't probably even dreamt about something like this!" Ling set down the plate and Jack winked at her. "Good Girl." He said and expertly put a lemon slice on a glas of Tequila handing it to Chris. "On the bright future!" He commented, put salt on his hand, wiped the lemon over it and then liked over the palm of his hand, immediately downing the drink.

    "Buuuuuyaaaaaah!" He yelled and shook his head. "Now we're talking!!!"

    He set down his shot and grinned. "And she? Man, you gotta find out that one yourself!"


    If Christian cared to have another look, the young woman was now alone again.

    Elina meanwhile saw her friend pass the group who did not recognize him and vanish in the crowd. He would stay around and watch the events unfold.

    As she tried a last time to find him in the crowd her eyes fell on another man. She could not see his face, but there was something off about him. He stood on the dancefloor and turned his head slightly as she looked at him, as if he felt the impact of her stare on his back.

    [​IMG]
    Tag: @DarkLordoftheFins, @SirakRomar
     
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  6. Lawbreaker

    Lawbreaker Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2018
    2019


    Weyburn Avenue 221b, Flat of Quentin Archer

    Malcolm nodded as he was reminded this was unofficial. Then he leaned forward as Kent talked about the sheets. "No games convention in the next weeks. We just had the big one. Can't recall the name, but that one is huge." He looked at the page with LA IMPERIALE.

    "The Imperial is a club downtown. I believe there is a rooftop bar in the same building called the Ricett." He lay his head aside. "Tuesday. That is today. He seemed to have a pretty crowded day." He had a look at the others and shook his head. "Never heard of the Adrian guy." His brows moved together. "Doubt he is God though."

    "But are you honestly asking my opinion? I served four tours before retiring to the private sector. I seen some men break. Your son had a lot of questions. Suicide candidates usually think a little more in final statements." He looked at Kent. "I don't wanna stir anything in you, but he seemed to be a reasonably wealthy guy with a beautiful girl and a lot of questions." The man shrugged. "It makes no sense to me. I think the cops saw a closed door and assumed it had to be suicide. Lazy cops. This is second floor." He pointed to the window. "Easy to close from outside."

    His mobile vibrated and he looked at it. "Have no address, but I can tell you where Amy works." He sighed. "Her shift ends in a few hours, we can easily make it before that."

    Tag: @HanSolo29


    Flat of Ray Johnson, Santa Monica

    A single USB 3.0 drive fell out of the letter. Not a word commenting it. No note. Nothing. There was only a tiny post it attached to the stick, saying one word.

    TRITEC

    "Nice to hear you. I am a journalist. Tech Review. Ever hear of us? Are you all right, Annie? If you need anything I can be over in half an hour." Ray offered this generously. He was obviously quite enthusiastic about having her in his flat.

    Tag: @StClaire


    The Charade, Santa Monica, Los Angeles

    Lucy Fox smiled and took her drink into both hands. "Of course I double checked my facts. And regarding my theory ... I have none. Not yet. Well, I have an idea. A frightening one. What if - all good theories start with a what if, do they?" She took the drink to her lips and did not put it down until it was half empty. The ice had to hurt the teeth if you drank it like that.

    "What if he kills most of his victims to make the killings appear as if they are random? When he is truly working a list. One that has something to do with a certain Tritec?" Lucy took out her purse and put a hundred bucks on the table. "You got me all wrong, Amy. I am not here for an interview. I got the story already. I came here to warn you." She emptied her glass and smiled at Amy. "Keep the change sweetheart. And please, take care. I mean it." Lucy nodded and almost stumbled as she slided down from her stool. "The drinks actually did not help as much as I thought. Still scared. I better call my sponsor." She smiled again and made her way out of the bar with insecure steps.

    Maya had actually replied. She would be right over. She could always use the extra money.

    Tag: @RachelTyrell



    LAPD Headquarters, Downtown Los Angeles

    The Sergant smiled. "Preston knows the escaping victim. Sorry, should be more precise. You find her address in the file." He gave both a gentle smile. "Bureau 771, it is all yours." He looked at a group of cops arriving through the door. They looked like Vice or Drugs. Obviously they were his next gig.

    "Badges and your gun will be brought to the room. We made both of you provisional LAPD officers, please don't make us look bad." He gave the arriving group a nervous look. "I am with you in a minute guys." Then he turned to the woman. "Paperwork for the carpark is already done, too. I am afraid the fancy ones are all taken already." With a nod he went over to the other group.

    "Joe Cardigan, Vice. We have been told to report here. Our Captain thought we might help on the streets." He smiled and the Sergant took a deep breath before beginning the staccato of informations he had just given them two woman. When they passed the group he had arrived at Ms. Prestons part, slightly amended to explain the relations a little better. "Sandra Preston? Isn't that SandyCandy?" He asked his guys. The youngest in the group nodded. "Yeah, I think so. We can look up the protocols from last week. Picked her up on the boulevard." Cardigan gave the two passing woman a smile. "So, we get help from the PR department or what are the postergirls doing here?"

    [​IMG]

    Joe Cardigan

    Tag: @Sith-I-5
     
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  7. StClaire

    StClaire Jedi Youngling

    Registered:
    Oct 17, 2018
    Annie
    Ray's flat, Santa Monica

    Journalist? Quentin Archer send an USB drive named TRITEC to a journalist before blowing his head off and she just accidentally found it?

    That was like going hiking in Scotland and finding Excalibur by accident. It was the holy grail of internet mysteries. They key to the kingdom. Instant fame and instant access.

    "Cool. Was looking for the soy milk, but man ... just found it. See you tonight." She did not even wait for an answer, but killed the line right away. Holding up the USB she could not help but smile.

    Being almost killed turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to her. Looking around she realized she would betray Ray's trust. There was no way she shared this with a guy she barely knew. Taking the envelope she pushed it into her backpack and looked around. If she betrayed his trust, she could do it the right way. In a hurry she began to search the flat for anything helpful. Money, mobiles, a laptop with which she could open the USB. A gun would be too much to ask from a mild-mannered journalist, right?

    Tag: @Lawbreaker
     
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  8. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Mary Formal, Baille Harte, increasingly busy hallway outside Winslow's office
    Location: LAPD Police Administration Building, Los Angeles


    The Sergant smiled. "Preston knows the escaping victim. Sorry, should be more precise. You find her address in the file."

    Mary followed his gaze as he glanced nervously over at a new group of cops, coming through one of the doors.

    He then gabbled a bunch of words at them, with varying levels of obscurity and usefulness, prompting the girls to exchange glances and near simultaneous shrugs of confusion.

    When they looked back at Beckett, he was already hotfooting it over to the new group, clearly his next gig.

    "What the hell is Bureau 771?" Formal queried aloud, whilst in the background, one of the new guys announced himself as "Joe Cadigan, Vice. We have been told to report here."

    "Search me." The shorter detective, whom the older woman had unilaterally decided to take under her wing, returned.

    "I've seen the LAPD portrayed in lots of television shows and movies, and even accounting for poetic licence, the only time any of them mentioned a bureau, it was in reference to THE Bureau, the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The FBI." Formal was troubled. How were they going to find this serial killer if even deciphering Beckett required an investigation of its own. "And if you want to get international about it, the Deuxième Bureau is an archaic name for one of the French secret services."

    "Could it be furniture?"

    Mary gave Harte a questioning look.

    "One of my friends at school, her Dad had this wooden storage thing where the top part opened out like a drawbridge on a castle-" She held the now closed file to her chest with her left arm, using her right hand to act out the opening of her drawbridge analogy. "-and you could use it as a work area if you pushed a chair up to it. Hang on." She paused to try fishing her smartphone out from a pocket on her tight black jeans, managing to get two fingers in there. "I'll see if I can Google up a picture of one."

    Together, they watched the Vice' briefing, as the Cadigan fellow, an untidy-looking man in black leather jacket and a ball cap that had been through such wars that its' logo label was worn down, queried the Preston witness with one of his team. "Sandra Preston? Isn't that SandyCandy?"

    The youngest in the group nodded. "Yeah, I think so. We can look up the protocols from last week. Picked her up on the boulevard."

    Formal eyed Cadigan, thinking he could be useful. He knew the streets, he knew this Preston witness. Personally, she thought the shooter who had missed, was different to the Australian suspect, as according to Beckett, the first guy had been shooting from 'point blank' from the get-go. The survivor would have had to evade like greased lightning to dodge that kill. Unless there was a second, less experienced shooter. "We should do a threesome with that Cadigan guy." Her arm stung of the back of Baille's free hand slapping it, making her look to her, surprised.

    "Get your mind out of the bedroom; we're on a case." Baille whispered harshly.


    "What?" Mary had lowered her voice too. "I'm talking about the case! He knows the city and he knows the girl; we should team up with him."


    "Oh."


    Mary returned the favour, smacking her arm.

    "Ow! That's assaulting a police officer!"


    "You heard Beckett, we're both police officers. Which means you assaulted one too, or maybe they cancel each other out." Formal was tempted to add Eddie Murphy's line from Beverly Hills Cop, about "where I'm from, cops don't file charges against other cops", but that would surely invite the question, where was she from, and she was not yet sure how to answer.


    Her identity had clearly been back-stopped. Enough to free her from handcuffs, and for the locals to readily accept her help with this investigation. She had not been completely disavowed, so this clearly wasn't an 'Operation Jacqueline'. Another line from another obscure tv show. She was full of them.

    But the thing was, the young officer who had freed her, had had to ask if she was CIA; he clearly hadn't known that she was with...no, she didn't want to even think the names of the two agencies that she belonged to; you didn't know who was listening. If they hadn't revealed their own identity, as part of her bona fides, there must be a reason.

    Her unwitting ward interrupted her musings. "Beckett said our badges, good call by the way-"

    "Thanks."

    "-would be brought to 'the room'. What room?" Baille frowned as she continued massaging her slapped bicep, her plan to use her now free phone, clearly delayed. "Could Bureau 771 be a room? Or an office? It would explain how it could be all ours."

    "Who calls rooms, 'bureaus'?" Mary was particularly happy to be getting an LAPD badge, even if she was going to have to find the random room where it was, first.
    Being known as the mystery woman with high but anonymous authority behind her, was a perfect opportunity, to, to use a recently-learned Americanism, 'double-down' on her U.N.C.L.E. masquerade. However, she had serious doubts that her ID card, a yellow-and-black laminate bearing the silhouette of a be-suited male standing by a flattened globe crisscrossed by lines of latitude and longitude, the logo of the fictional United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, was going to grant her access into any crime scenes, so getting a local shield was a clear necessity. "Alright, when they're finished, put on a nice smile and try to get Cadigan to team up with us. Meanwhile, I'll go looking for some kind of wall map, see if it has any references to 'bureaus'. If it is a room, maybe it's on the seventh floor."

    As it turned out, the two did not have to pursue those roles, for Cadigan noticed them first. "So, we get help from the PR department or what are the postergirls doing here?"

    Mary nodded back at him. "Yeah, it's all hands on deck with this one, Detective Cadigan. I'm Mary. This is Baille." She gestured to her companion, who managed a smile and a cute wave from the hip. "How do you feel about teaming up, to go talk to this Sandra chick?"

    Baille stepped away from her side to gain Beckett's attention the second he was free. "Sarge, sorry to bother you again. What is Bureau 771, please; where is it, and is it the name of this room where our badges are supposed to be?"

    Tag: @Lawbreaker
     
    Last edited: Oct 27, 2018
  9. DarkLordoftheFins

    DarkLordoftheFins Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 2, 2007
    Christian Borg
    The Anicon Club

    Not Even close? Christian expected the man to show off and probably overplay his hand here, but they had his attention now. He would not get an answer yet, though. So he turned his attention back to the enigmatic woman. He would never have done anything about her ... but she was his excuse to get away from Jack and ... more Important ... he was 90% sure she actually had looked at him when he had looked at her. Probably she was luring him in to make fun of him, but his ego had only survived puberty by getting used to that. He downed one of the Tequila without the whole salt and lemon ritual and hissed out air. "Actually I am shocked, but not half bad. Really quite a Tequila." And with these words he stood up. "I gonna find out."

    Making his way through the club he tried not to look to obviously at her as he neared the Beauties position and stepped next to her at the bar. He inhaled deeply and was happy the barkeeper was there to buy him another few seconds. "Beer. Any European beer." He smiled and then shook his head. "No wait, do you serve Coke Light in glass bottles?" The barkeeper shook his head and Christian nodded. "Then the beer please."

    The alcohol infused bravery of coming here was gone, but he was not the kind of guy to avoid the pain of rejection. "I am terribly bad at these things, you know?" He turned to her and smiled a shy smile. "Christian, new in town and please tell me you speak English." He laughed a little at himself as he realized there was no guarantee she did. This was China. People spoke Chinese. "And if you do, feel free to tell me to get lost."

    Tag: @Lawbreaker, @SirakRomar
     
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  10. SirakRomar

    SirakRomar Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 30, 2007
    Enigma
    The Anicon

    Elina alternated her view between the mysterious dancer who had caught her attention for reasons she did not understand herself and the young guy sitting with Gamescape. When he had finally begun to make his way towards her, she had shifted fully to him and the same time she had turned to the bar where she had been served a terrible Moet&Chadon Imperial. She played calmly with her glass and listened as he tried to order a beer. Or a Diet Coke, which he called "light" as all Europeans did.

    Finally he managed to talk to her and she returned his smile. "I speak English. Yes." She said and lay her head aside. "Elina. And I reserve the right to tell you to frank off later, if that is okay." His opening meant he was really good or indeed bad at these things. She knew he was not exactly a player already. It was a good line to begin to talk to her anyway.

    "So you are a Gamescape recruit? They make quite a fuss about you. Usually their programmers don't get welcome parties."

    Tag: @DarkLordoftheFins, @ Lawbreaker
     
  11. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Kent Archer
    Weyburn Avenue 221b, Flat of Quentin Archer

    With a frown, Kent shuffled through the printouts once more until the one that highlighted the ‘La Imperiale’ was back on top. After listening to Malcolm’s commentary, the night club seemed to hold the greatest potential; the others were far too vague to offer answers...at least at this juncture. He made a mental note to check back on that one a little later. While he didn’t particularly like the idea of stepping foot in such a venue and mingling with that unsavory crowd, which was far outside of his comfort zone – what had drawn Quentin to such a place? – he had become resolute.

    That feeling only solidified when Malcolm revealed his thoughts on Quentin’s death:

    “Your son had a lot of questions. Suicide candidates usually think a little more in final statements,” the other man explained, angling his chin to meet Kent’s gaze. “I don't wanna stir anything in you, but he seemed to be a reasonably wealthy guy with a beautiful girl and a lot of questions. It makes no sense to me. I think the cops saw a closed door and assumed it had to be suicide. Lazy cops. This is second floor." He then gestured towards the window. "Easy to close from outside."

    Again, Kent was a man of few words under the circumstances. He merely nodded his head, his eyes following Malcolm’s hand to where he was pointing to the window. His gaze went distant as he peered beyond the threshold to the street below, his mind parsing through the many possibilities. Overall, the man’s speech seemed to make sense, and despite his insistence on not wanting to influence his decision, it was effective in affirming Kent’s point of view. It wiped away his recent doubts, and he was back to relying on his own natural intuition, the very thing that had compelled him to come back to Los Angeles in the first place – someone or something had killed his son. This was not a suicide; he was firmly confident of that now.

    With a final glance to the papers in his hand, Kent folded them in half and sighed. “I hate to barge in like that, but I don’t see any other options,” he replied somberly to Malcolm’s announcement about locating Amy Cross. He offered a wan smile and proceeded to place the printouts into his suit coat beside the photograph, seemingly unperturbed by the implications of disturbing this woman at her place of employment. Depending on what she did, speaking to her could serve as a liability, but he was more than willing to take the risk in order to find answers.

    Still, the key was not to appear too presumptuous; he would have to remain patient and diligent with his approach...to keep things professional. He could not afford to make mistakes.

    Pulling himself to his full height, Kent straightened his coat and gestured casually towards Malcolm. “We better get moving,” he acknowledged with a nod.

    TAG: @Lawbreaker
     
  12. Lawbreaker

    Lawbreaker Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2018
    2019


    Weyburn Avenue 221b, Flat of Quentin Archer


    Malcolm nodded. "Certainly, Sir." He made his way through the room and outside made sure the area was secure before allowing his client to leave.

    Outside he opened Kent's door and then went to the trunk, getting something from there. When he returned to the driver seat he had an automatic pistol, which he loaded and put into his belt. "As this became a murder case, I thought you might enjoy the extra protection. That was all he said before starting the motor.


    The Charade, Santa Monica, Los Angeles

    Rob raised his brows and then stepped over to the bar. "You take it that serious?" He asked. "What the old drunk said? I mean ... she was kinda hot, but ... Sidney? Really?" He looked at her for a moment and then sighed. Grabbing down at his ankle he took a compact .38 Special and put it on the bar. "I'd say you pay it if you use it, otherwise just give it back. Alright?" He returned to his place and it was only a few minutes later Maya arrived and took over.


    Streets of Santa Monica

    "That is her. Isn't she?" Malcolm did not even get a fair chance to find a parking spot, before they saw the young woman passing them. It was Amy, just looking a lot less happy than on her picture.

    Tag: @RachelTyrell, @HanSolo29



    Flat of Ray Johnson, Santa Monica

    Actually she found quite a few useful things. Two old mobiles with pre-paid cards. Almost 300 in cash. And indeed she found a gun. It was quite a gun actually. It felt light and unusually pleasant when holding it.

    [​IMG]
    She was actually all good to go when it knocked at the door. Annie turned around and half expected "Sidney" had catched up with her probably. But a female voice came from the door.

    "Hey, are you there? I found it! Hello?!"

    Tag: @StClaire



    LAPD Headquarters, Downtown Los Angeles

    The Sergant turned and was obviously a little irritated. "Tried seventh floor the one between 70 and 72?" He asked and then passed the Portland cop who had obviously was not interested in.

    Cardigan watched the scene with an amused smile, also he could lot hear the talking. He probably saw everything he needed in the faces. Then he turned his attention to the second half of the odd couple. "Sure, LAPD can certainly use a little sex appeal for this one. My guys set up base here and I leave in ten. Meet me outside and don't be late. We need to get Sandy before she goes to work or start drinking and it is hell of a drive to the beach at this hour of the day." Turning to his guys he smiled at the youngest of the troop. "And can you get into contact with OC? Maybe your old boss has an idea what we are looking for?" He asked and the young Hispanic man laughed at him. "What? Mob hits? Is that a serious theory?" Cardigan looked at him and shook his head. "No, but read the damned file. How does one get that good at killing people, hm? Practice." Turning back to Mary he winked. "Ten minutes."

    Tag: @Sith-I-5
     
  13. DarkLordoftheFins

    DarkLordoftheFins Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 2, 2007
    Christian and The Enigma
    The Anicon, Bar

    Christian had to laugh. Was this the part where she wanted to be impressed by him?

    "Oh I am the real deal. They gave me the full program. Penthouse, AI secretary, fancy title, loads of money. They bury me in pleasantries. You know why?" He laughed. "Because I don't. They don't even tell me what I am working on." He shrugged and it was actually good to speak this out.

    "You seem a bit lost." She simply said honestly.

    "I don't know the city or anybody and I am working for the biggest conglomerate in the world now. Hell, I am lost. I guess that was kind of the point. They isolate me, break me, build me anew in their image." He looked at Jack. "Guess their super-smart AI told them that would work."

    Elina gave him a long look before giving him her judgment. "But it won't, will it? You will resist."

    "Yeah, I guess I am not a joiner really. But let me not start whining about the worlds biggest luxury problem. Who are you, Elina?" He sighed deeply.

    Elian looked at him. "I am really nobody. Just a girl with too much time and too little interest in the mundane."

    "Well, quite a beautiful nobody." He said. Elina laughed and it was clear she laughed about him.

    He laughed too. "I did good until I said this, did I?" He asked and shook his head.

    "Yes, you did. Quickly build a relationship by sharing a personal bit and same time selling yourself well. But you guys always ruin it when you start to flirt. That one was a bit ... clumsy." She said laughed and turned back to her drink.

    "Yeah, I know. But you have to give me that I had to make the first move. When you wanted me to talk to you as much as I wanted to." He got his beer and took a sip, considering if he left as long as he was still ahead of the game.

    Elina looked at him now. He was smart. She had to admit he was indeed dangerously smart. "Why do you think so?" She asked. He smiled at her now.

    "Because you haven't told me to get lost, yet. Actually I was more hoping until now." He turned to her and decided to see where this was going. Better than hanging out with Jack. "Now I know."

    Elina now turned towards him and nodded. "Why would I want you to do so?" She asked, feeling slightly cornered by his approach. He was changing pace, dominating the game like a chess player.

    "I have no idea. But I could guess. You would be offended though. Probably." He took his beer into both hands.

    "I think being offended by honesty is better than being bored by superficial chatter. So give it a try." She answered and she felt the eyes on her from everywhere.

    "Well, I would say you are lonely. You are beautiful and probably pretty easily reduced to being breathtaking. But like everyone else you want people to see more. But trying to make people see something else is probably a pretty harrowing fight. Because while you try they reduce you again." He said.

    Not even close, but Elina liked the approach. "Well, you mean I wanna be loved for who I really am?" She leaned forward. "Because I am a romantic at heart."

    "No. Whatever love is, it makes us blind. You want to be seen." He said and gave her a sad smile. Now he was actually closer than she felt comfortable with. He saw that.

    "I am sorry if I overstepped." He said and felt his own insecurity take over.

    The only thing she did was smile. "I see why they appreciate you so much. That is quite a mind you got there." She replied and shook her head. "You were close enough. But really ... you avoided my question. You did not say why I wanted you to chat me up."

    He nodded. "Oh I see I found my master. Actually I do not know. Why do you think I did it?" He asked back.

    "To get away from the guys over there and because you thought I am worth a try?" She laughed. He laughed back.

    "Okay, 60% I wanted to get away. You got me there. 40% I realized you want me to talk to you and I wanted to know why." He emptied his beer and wondered what this was.

    "Shall I tell you?" She asked.

    "What would be the fun in that?" He asked and leaned against the bar again. "Just give me a chance to find out."

    "And how shall I do that?" She asked directly, hoping he would not give her the blunt and obvious answer.

    "Get somewhere, where it is a bit more quiet? And I am not meaning my Appartement." He smiled. "What is your favorite place in Shanghai? Show it to me. I could use a little knowledge about the city."

    She gave him a look. Good answer. She kind of liked the mix of confidence and insecurity. It reminded her of him .

    She stayed silent for a moment and smiled at her glass.

    "Shall I prepare myself to get lost?" He asked her. She gave him a look.

    "No, I am seriously considering showing it to you. I would like to know what it does to you." She emptied her glass. "Now?"

    He nodded. "Yes, please. Save me." He laughed looking at Jack working his way through the Tequila plate alone.

    "Come." She finally said and stood up, putting her dress in place. Taking his hand she slowly dragged him to the exit, knowing everybody would be watching.

    He felt her soft hand around his and he would have lied if he would not have admitted this first contact with her skin was electrifying.

    Tag: @Lawbreaker, @SirakRomar
     
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  14. StClaire

    StClaire Jedi Youngling

    Registered:
    Oct 17, 2018
    Annie
    Ray's flat, Santa Monica

    She grabbed all the useful stuff and put it into her backpack. She was eager to leave. Not that Ray would come home any time soon, but hell she knew her bad conscience of stealing from him would pale with every step she brought between her and his flat. She was not stealing for profit, after all. She just tried to survive and when it came to survival, did the ends not always justify the means?

    The Walking Dead had taught her that lesson.

    She hesitated to take the gun, as it looked extraordinary expensive. But finally she pushed it into her backpack, knowing she might regret leaving it of she actually would need it.

    Then there was the knock and the voice of the woman. She had something for Ray. Probably she had heard her and naturally assumed Ray had to be at home. Annie felt a slight panic rise inside of her. She could not reveal herself to the woman. It was bad enough Ray might call the police in the evening when he realized she had robbed him. But if she talked to the woman she might wonder what a stranger did in Ray's home and she might call the cops and they might want an ID. No, she could not risk that. She had to run.

    So the final item she took was a worn out hoodie, which she put over her shirt. She brought up the hood and checked her look in the mirror. It would hide her pink hair, which was just to easy to identify.

    Taking her backpack she went for the backdoor and opened it as silent as possible. She would leave and try to make it back to the streets asap to vanish in the stream of tourists the season swept into Santa Monica. Hopefully Sidney had not scared them all away.


    Tag: @Lawbreaker
     
  15. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Kent Archer
    Streets of Santa Monica

    As the car traversed the streets of Santa Monica, Kent remained silent, his mind drifting aimlessly in an effort to decipher the evidence they had obtained over the past few hours. Despite still existing in a perpetual haze, he felt as if he was on the cusp of a breakthrough in solving the terrible mystery behind his son’s death; that the information he held in the form of printed notes and photographs would somehow provide some much-needed clarity. But almost as quickly as that hope materialized, it was suppressed by his own troubling thoughts.

    With a heavy sigh, he recalled Malcolm’s disquieting behavior prior to leaving the apartment – the man had produced a pistol from the trunk of the car and uttered the two words Kent had been dreading to hear since news of Quentin’s death had reached him two days ago: murder case.

    Murder.

    His boy.

    It was hard to imagine that things had escalated to reach that point, but there it was...smack between the eyes. Someone had killed Quentin. That revelation had initially left him feeling hollow, but now something else began to well up inside of him, clutching tightly at his chest and expanding outward in a turbulent wave – anger. In addition to finding the truth, he felt compelled to ensure that those responsible paid the ultimate price for their heinous crimes. He wanted them to suffer.

    Revenge.

    The word struck him like a knife piercing into his flesh, and Kent audibly gasped as he recoiled. Not only was vengeance a dangerous precedent to set for himself, but didn’t that make him just as bad as the perpetrators? It wasn’t worth throwing away his principles to seek that kind of gratification, was it? That wasn’t justice...

    As if to distract himself from that reality, Kent retrieved the stack of folded printouts from his coat and began to fumble through them again with shaky hands, seemingly desperate to find an answer that would deter him from his natural impulses.

    "That is her. Isn't she?" Malcolm called suddenly from the front seat, the car slowing considerably as they approached an intersection.

    Kent glanced up from his work and absently surveyed their surroundings. He was so absorbed in his own machinations, that he nearly forgot about his goal to track down Amy Cross. When rational thought returned, he silently cursed himself and quickly tucked the printouts away, his blue-gray eyes coming to rest on the lithe form strolling down the sidewalk a short distance away. He was content to observe her for the moment, noting that she did indeed match the woman he had glimpsed in the photograph, right down to the way her blonde hair framed her face. The only difference came in the way she held herself; she seemed distant...almost sad. Under the circumstances, he found that completely acceptable.

    “Stop the car,” he ordered firmly, gathering his wits about him as he placed his hand on the door handle in anticipation. He didn’t need to tell Malcolm to stay within striking distance, and quietly slipped from the car as soon as he pulled off to the side.

    Buttoning his coat, Kent crossed the street and approached her cautiously, his lips pressed together in a thin line. With some trepidation, he realized that he didn’t know what to say to her. Even 35 years of experience spent in the business world could not fully prepare him for a moment like this. He had to simply go with his gut instinct and hope for the best outcome.

    Here goes nothing…

    “Ms. Cross?” he called with a faint smile as he approached. “Uh, hi...I’m–I apologize if I’m interrupting you, but uh, this is...well, I’m afraid I’m a bit out of my league here. I was wondering if you had a moment?” He hesitated over the next part, his eyes diverting briefly to the ground with a short sigh. “To discuss the late Quentin Archer.”

    Kent then angled his chin to meet her gaze with conviction, his expression had softened a bit, but it still reflected his grief.

    TAG: @RachelTyrell; @Lawbreaker
     
  16. Lawbreaker

    Lawbreaker Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2018
    2019


    Flat of Ray Johnson, Santa Monica

    Annie made it out of the backdoor and the woman was now hammering against the door. "Ray, I spend all night mining the data. C'mon I hear you are at home!" She yelled now as Annie was quickly getting away from the house.

    Then suddenly she heard two shots. They came from the direction of the door of Ray's flat and above her she saw the man with the blue hoodie she had encountered the day before. He put his gun into his belt and quickly made his way to the stairs of the complex. The same stairs she was using.

    Tag: @StClaire
     
  17. Lawbreaker

    Lawbreaker Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2018
    2029

    Elysium Tower, Downtown, Shanghai

    Elina dragged Christian out of the club under the surprised and watchful eyes of basically ... everybody. He earned more than one "well done" nods on his way out.

    Outside her black car and driver were already waiting and for the size of the city it was a remarkable short drive until they made it to an underground garage of one of the giant towers overseeing the city.

    Tag: @SirakRomar, @DarkLordoftheFins
     
  18. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Mary Formal, Nicole Gravely, corridor outside Captain Winslow's office


    The Sergant turned and was obviously a little irritated. "Tried seventh floor the one between 70 and 72?"

    Nicole felt her face warm with embarrassment from the Sergeant's reaction, feeling more like a dumb schoolgirl attracting the disdain of a teacher. Still, she stood her ground long enough to note the required information, smiled and nodded her thanks, then stepped aside as her new supervisor brushed past her.

    From her side of the hallway, Mary stood with the untidy Vice detective, Joe Cadigan, both of them observing the Gravely and Beckett exchange.

    He turned back to her, clearly having mulled over her suggestion to work together. "Sure, LAPD can certainly use a little sex appeal for this one."

    Mary smiled and gestured across the corridor to the Portland officer. "Well it's too late to arrange a 'sitter." She quipped quietly, "So I'll have to bring her along too."

    "My guys set up base here and I leave in ten. Meet me outside and don't be late. We need to get Sandy before she goes to work or start drinking and it is hell of a drive to the beach at this hour of the day."

    She had seen the main parking area when she had been brought in, and nodded.

    Cadigan conversed briefly with his team. "And can you get into contact with OC? Maybe your old boss has an idea what we are looking for?" He asked.

    The young Hispanic man laughed at him. "What? Mob hits? Is that a serious theory?"


    Cardigan looked at him and shook his head. "No, but read the damned file. How does one get that good at killing people, hm? Practice." Turning back to Mary he winked. "Ten minutes."


    She beamed and winked back, "Ten minutes. We'll be there."

    Alone again, she waited for Gravely to come over and join her.

    * * * *

    Nicole strode back to the waiting Formal. "Alright, it is Bureau Seventy-One, not Seven-Seven-One."

    Mary frowned down at her. "How did we mis-hear that?"

    "Maybe we didn't." The sergeant shrugged. "Maybe he has a stutter. Anyway, he says to check the seventh floor, between Seventy and Seventy-Two, which means it must be a room or office."

    Portland police detective and self-styled UNCLE agent paused to revel in the completion of their first combined investigation. Hopefully the Sidney one would go as well.

    "What did you get out of Cadigan?" Gravely prompted.

    "He's onboard with us joining forces, or as he puts it, having some sex appeal on the case; we're to meet him outside in ten minutes. Probably nine minutes now."

    They re-traced their steps to the nearest set of lifts, hit the button for their required floor, and headed up.

    A wide corridor, well lit by sunlight streaming through tinted windows, headed to the left and right, and fortunately a wall map on the wall opposite the opening doors, indicated the direction to go.

    They found a door with 71 etched into the frosted glass pane that took up most of the top half, and were able to push the door open, as it was not locked.

    A wide set of windows lined one side. A mobile display board was on their left as they entered. Mobile only in the sense that it could be moved around, or from office to office, but taking it downstairs and onto the sidewalk would be a pain, and probably why tablets were invented.

    Two rectangular tables had been pushed together to make a large square of working surface, and there were two wheeled office chairs.

    On the near edge of the table, were two silver LAPD shields, with red cloth lanyards wrapped around each, and in a sealed polythene evidence bag, a huge chrome handgun, along with one of those velcro bandage-like supports that you would put round a weak knee joint.

    "Oh yeah." Formal was clearly happy, making a beeline for her gun. "Finally."

    Nicole had questions regarding the size of the firearm, but instead stared at the older woman as she began to sing and micro-dancing on the spot, whilst tearing open the bag, and proceeding to wrap the support round the meatier part of her right thigh.

    "Finally, it's happened to me. Right in front of my face and I just could not hide it."

    Her voice was not bad, but this was not the time.

    The bandage was revealed to be a thigh holster when the Bren was velcroed into it, giving the woman a bit of a Lara Croft look.

    Gravely put the file down, and unwrapped one of the badges and briefly examined it, noting the gold tower with sunbeams radiating out of it, and 'POLICE OFFICER' arcing over it, whilst 'LOS ANGELES POLICE was arced underneath. She slipped the lanyard over her head and adjusted her copper tresses around it, putting her own badge away under her top.

    She glanced over. "Hey, this is not the time for twerking!"

    "Oh, I wouldn't say that."

    Both women spun towards the voice, spying a brunette in a fitted jacket and pencil skirt in black, with an open-necked blouse the colour of dark chocolate.

    "Karen Davis, Support Services." She identified herself, stepping up to the table and setting down the stuff she had been carrying, two small notepads, several ballpoint pens, and a flattened tan-coloured plastic bottle. "IT Services will be bringing laptops."

    "Hopefully, we'll have caught this Sidney character before that becomes necessary."

    Mary grabbed up the last item. "Sun lotion! This'll be useful-" She glanced up at Nicole. "-it'll mean you'll be able to get out of cars without us having to put you under a blanket."

    "Speaking of cars, ten minutes?"

    "Oh ****!" Mary immediately stepped towards the door, "I'll secure a lift. You grab the notepad and pen; you're in charge of the file and taking notes."

    "Nice to meet you, Karen." Gravely greeted after doing as she was told, then pushing Mary's forgotten shield into her jeans' pocket. She hurried out to meet her partner by the lift bank, where one metal door was already sliding open. "What did your last slave die off?"

    Formal looked reflective as she answered. "Well she didn't really die. She's down in West Virginia on a research mission, embedded with the A-Team."

    That told the cop two things. That the blonde was not yet used to the geographical layout of the United States, and was probably as new to L.A. as she was, if she still thought West Virginia was south of her usual location."You know the A-Team is fictional, right?"

    With her hands and arms full, she could not select the ground floor, so Mary had to do the honours.

    The door sealed on them, with the lift descending rapidly.

    "Alright, an A-Team. The 'A' on this one refers to the Appalachians, a mountain range-"

    "I know what they are." Gravely sighed, her arms crossed in front of her as the most comfortable way to keep everything secure.

    "-alright then."

    When the taller woman did not elaborate further, Nicole glanced up at her, then changed the subject as the lift let them out on the ground floor, and they turned towards the sun-drenched doors of the front entrance, at the far end of the shiny-floored lobby they had emerged into. "So where are we meeting Cadigan?"

    "He just said outside in ten. So if he isn't right by the front entrance, I guess he will be in the main car park."

    They pushed through the glass doors of the main entrance, and had a good look around till they found him.


    Tag: @Lawbreaker
     
    Last edited: Nov 8, 2018
  19. SirakRomar

    SirakRomar Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 30, 2007
    Christian and The Enigma
    Penthouse

    Elina leaned back and enjoyed the drive. A smile played around her lips as she felt Christians anticipation.

    Christian stayed silent for the duration of the rather short drive, wondering what just happened to him. He tried not to stare at the perfect beauty in her short black dress and instead watched the streets outside as they passed the hundreds of people with their breathing masks.

    When they arrived at the underground garage he finally spoke.

    "Your home?" He asked and raised his brows. Elina shook her head. "It belongs to a good friend of mine. He rarely uses it and therefore allows me to come and go as I please. You will see."

    A good friend who could afford to live here was probably a very wealthy good friend. It was a let-down that the enigmatic beauty indeed had something this ordinary of a set-up. Wealthy friends who gave her keys to tiny parts of their luxury kingdoms.

    Her driver opened the door and Wlina allowed Christian to exit first, before gracefully leaving the car and taking lead towards the elevator. The AI scanned her body signature and access was granted. The elevator began it's climb all the way up and through the plexi-glass Christian could see the city below getting smaller and smaller. When the doors finally opened the revealed the Penthouse, an oversized temple of luxury. Christian smirked and was almost disappointed this was her favorite spot in the city. He knew the riches of the rich and he also knew they rarely deserved them. But money could but anything and he wondered if the man owning this enormous penthouse also owned Elina to a certain degree.

    "Follow me." She said and lead him through an assortment of rooms which all seemed to be variations of the luxury lounge theme. Christian did as he was told. Their final destination was a surprise though. In the center of the Penthouse as a room that was actually empty. Empty except for a couch and a single painting hanging at a grey wall.

    [​IMG]
    Christian took a deep breath and looked at Elina. "A drink?" She asked and turned to leave the room again.

    "No, thanks." He just said and stepped towards the painting. Finally he allowed himself to fall into the couch and it was at a perfect distance from the painting. He soaked in the details until Elina returned with a glass of champaign and now without shoes. She set next to him, dragged her long legs to her body on the couch and looked at the painting herself.

    "What is it called?" Christian asked.

    "I don't know. I don't wanna know." She said and took a sip. "Tell me what do you see?"

    Christian looked at it. "An amazing piece of art." He said.

    "You can do better than that." She dryly commented. Christian gave her a look and then his gaze returned to the painting.

    "Anger, burning anger under the surface." He said and leaned back. "Whose anger is it, is the question."

    Elina looked at him. He had an artists soul. She could tell that. "What do you think?"

    "The anger in all of us. The frustration growing to cold rage that we all feel in these days." He finally said. "That is probably why your friend keeps it here. Not to see, but he probably prefers people not to see it. He might be afraid what people might see in it."

    Elina had never thought of that. Christian could see that and it was no surprise.

    "He allows me to see it." She then said.

    "There must be a reason." He simply said. People who owned places like this owned things. They owned people. They owned their own worlds of art and luxury, trying to define themselves by what people told them was good taste.

    Elina said nothing. She thought about his words. Finally after a long moment of silence she got up and left the room again. This time he could not resist her and looked after her as she left. A moment later she returned with a glass of Whisky. "Glen Dronach 21 years, I guess you were kind of a Whisky person." She handed it to him.

    "Didn't I say I don't want a drink?" He asked and took it. It smelled fantastic. Another of these expensive luxuries money could buy.

    "Yeah, but you need one." She said and then took exactly the same position she took before to his left on the couch. She looked at him. He looked so lost again. He seemed to always be a little lost.

    Christian finally drank and leaned back. "I guess you live an expensive life, do you?" He asked and looked at Elina.

    "Luxury becomes a hollow replacement for purpose after some time." She said and looked at him now, not hiding the fact she was watching him. "How did you end up here? I mean, even now and even here you look terribly like you think yourself you don't belong here." Elina said and crossed her legs, stretching them in the gap between them.

    "Oh, a number of fateful mistakes that lead me to selling out basically. Really, you would not be that interested. It is about games."

    "Oh and you got the feelings I don't like games?" Elina asked. He looked at her.

    "Not the ones played with a console." He answered and folded his hands, grinning at her.

    She smiled back. "You get into the right swing now ... with the flirting thing."

    He smiled back at her. Then he took another one from the really excellent Whisky. "I look more lost than I feel, I think. It is just a very overwhelming week. I think I get myself another of those." He finally said and stood up. He felt nervous. He was not used to this kind of situation and it left him insecure. He was also the kind of self-reflecting person who realized his own insecurity and that again gave him some power over it.

    Walking over to the lounge area next room ... how many lounges did this Penthouse have actually? ... he saw the bottle was still on the bar. He took it and was about to refill, when he felt her hands on his back. She was silent without her shoes and had followed him.

    He inhaled and wanted to say something, but nothing came to his mind. Instead of refilling he slowly turned and looked at her as he felt her warm, perfectly shaped body against his. She smiled at him and he did the only thing he could by pressing her against himself and ... kissing her.

    It was like an explosion in his mind for his lips to touch hers and he felt passion take over as his hands touched her body through the thin dress of hers.

    Elina enjoyed the touch and knew she had succeeded. She almost fell bad about that.

    Tag: @Lawbreaker, @DarkLordoftheFins
     
    Last edited: Nov 8, 2018
    HanSolo29 likes this.
  20. RachelTyrell

    RachelTyrell Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    Feb 15, 2009
    Amy Cross
    Near the Charade

    She took the gun and gave him a smile. "Thanks Rob, highly appreciated."

    She finished up her shift and there wasn't much to do with Ms. Fox being the only customer today. When Maja arrived she made a quick handover and made her way to the streets.

    But she did not make it far before she was approached by an older man. Her first instinct was almost to draw the gun. The drunken woman really had scared her more than she liked to admit, obviously. But the face seemed right away familiar. Then when he wanted to discuss the "late Quentin Archer" she suddenly realized who was standing in front of her.

    "Mr. Archer. I ... am sorry for your loss." She just said and looked around. "Sure. I could have a cup of coffee." She pointed to the Starbucks right over the street.

    Quentin had a bad relationship with his Dad, she knew that. She knew a lot of things about them. But that shaken relationship probably made things only harder for his old man.

    Tag: @HanSolo29, @Lawbreaker
     
    Sith-I-5 and HanSolo29 like this.
  21. StClaire

    StClaire Jedi Youngling

    Registered:
    Oct 17, 2018
    Annie
    Ray's flat, Santa Monica

    He was here!

    Annie trembled as she saw him up there. Whoever this woman was, she had just become the next victim of Sidney.

    It took her a second to understand what happened next. He was leaving the crime scene and was taking the stairs. The stairs she was on! He would see her and he would kill her if he saw her!

    Annie speed up, taking her backpack from her shoulder and getting the gun out. She left the stairs at the next exit and closed the door to the corridor, pointing the gun at it. Her finger switched it to armed and she hoped this thing was armed and as dangerous as it looked.

    She felt the sweat on her hands. She barely ever sweat. Her Asian genes served her well there. But fear changed the rules obviously. Aiming and waiting she tried not to tremble.

    Tag: @Lawbreaker
     
  22. Lawbreaker

    Lawbreaker Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2018
    2019


    LAPD Headquarters, Downtown Los Angeles

    Of course Cardigan was not waiting in a car park. When he said in the front, he meant in the front and he parked in the strict non-parking zone right in front of the main exit.

    Smoking a cigarette he had his black Ray Ban on and leaned against his Jeep Renegade. "Hey Ladies." He smiled and opened the doors, circling the car towards the driver seat. "The cute on sits front, I got a rep to loose." He said and got into the car. The moment they were seated he took off. It became pretty quickly clear he considered traffic laws more as loose suggestions as he made his way to Santa Monica.

    "Man, they seem to put every cop they got on this Sidney. Guess he got all the attention he wanted, hm? I am Caddy, by the way. Oh and where are you girls from, hm?"

    He pointed to the file. "Any theories on our guy? I call the random victim theory BS, really."

    Tag: @Sith-I-5



    Flat of Ray Johnson, Santa Monica

    Annie heard him come down the stairs. Swift steps, but not that much in a hurry. He wasn't terribly nervous just because he had killed someone up there, obviously. He was passing her door without noticing Annie's presence and she could see him down on the ground level making his way towards the streets. He had probably exactly the same plan she had. Vanishing in the crowds.

    Tag: @StClaire
     
  23. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Kent Archer
    Streets of Santa Monica, and then Starbucks

    “Uh, Kent,” he corrected plainly, a tired smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. “You can call me Kent.”

    He then accepted her condolences with a stiff nod, his eyes diverting to the sidewalk as he awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets. In truth, he was mildly surprised that she had recognized him so readily. He was not the ‘famous’ one, at least not within their social structure. Still, it raised some hope that perhaps Quentin had not severed all ties. Whether his conversations with Ms. Cross had painted Kent in a positive or negative light, he could not be certain, but he was willing to overlook those details for the time being. After all, she had welcomed him easy enough.

    When she suggested that they relocate to the Starbucks across the street to talk, he hesitated for a moment, his chin angling marginally to communicate his intentions to Malcolm before finally giving his assent. “Perfect...consider it my treat.” He gestured for her to carry on and fell in behind her.

    After receiving their orders, Kent found a single table near the back of the store that offered a fair view of the boulevard outside, but still allowed them some privacy. The low din of the late-afternoon rush also helped to keep things somewhat isolated. Not that he really expected someone to eavesdrop on a seemingly innocent conversation between a young woman and her business associate, but one could never be too careful, especially with the nature of their discussion.

    With the coffee cup perched lightly between his hands, Kent stared down at the dark contents as he gathered the courage to speak. “I know...this must be awkward, but you and Quentin were close,” he began cautiously, his gaze rising from the cup to study her face. A timid smirk flitted briefly across his features. “Weren’t you?”

    TAG: @RachelTyrell; @Lawbreaker
     
  24. Lawbreaker

    Lawbreaker Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2018

    2029


    The Penthouse, Downtown, Shanghai

    The wristband vibrated and made Christian aware of his need to wake up.

    CHRISTIAN YOU HAVE NOT SLEPT AT HOME. HOPEFULLY YOU ENJOYED THE
    NIGHT. YOUR WORK BEGINS IN TWO HOURS AND TWENTY MINUTES FROM NOW. FRESH CLOTHING WILL BE DELIVERED BY A MASSENGER DRONE SHORTLY. PLEASE PREPARE.

    Even in the morning sunlight falling into the lavish bedroom at the center of the Penthouse Elina remained an Enigma and flawless in every way. Lying naked next to Christian she was woken up by her own - much more elegant and smaller - wristband monitor which hummed in a much more subtle and less intrusive way.

    Tag: @DarkLordoftheFins, @SirakRomar
     
  25. DarkLordoftheFins

    DarkLordoftheFins Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 2, 2007
    Christian Borg
    The Penthouse

    Incredible, they do not even allow me to ruin my first day. Christian slowly raised from bed and looked at the perfect beauty lying next to him. He smiled and walked backwards out of the bedroom.

    "Coffee?" A soft female voice asked him. The AI. Of course the Penthouse had it's own AI. "Yes, please. Two cups, mine black and hers ... the way she likes it." He sighed and looked at his armwrist. Pick up was in five minutes at the west balcony, where the sun came up. "Where is the shower?" He asked and yawned.

    "There are five ..." Christian waved. "The nearest." A light blinked above an exit and only wearing his boxer shorts he followed it to the shower and quickly washed the scent of last night off his body. Then he quickly returned and the drone was already hovering on the balcony. It had brought everything he needed and left without a word as he came back in to dress ... the smell of expensive coffee filled the room already. "AI, is a surveillance system running right now? Did it run yesterday night?" He asked.

    "Surveillance is turned to discrete, Sir." The AI said.

    "Thanks." He smiled. At least nobody would enjoy the video of the last night for personal pleasure.

    Tag: @Lawbreaker, @SirakRomar