Ace listens attentively to Leeson, absorbing every word like a kid listening to Santa tell a story about the North Pole, nodding in spots to acknowledge (and agree) with some bits, grunting and shaking the head to give sympathy at the sad parts, and generally radiating an air sympathetic with Leeson's concern for both his turf and the woman he cares for. Huffing out a long, low sigh up past his nose, Ace looks right into Leeson's eyes and says, "All it takes for Evil to win is for Good Men to do nothing. I'll do what I can to help find Miss Garcia for you...” A slow, wolfish, toothy grin spreads across his face and his eyes narrow in predatory slits as he finishes: "...and I'll kick Reggie's a3 as the icing on that cake!"
Leeson's eyebrows raise in surprise as he chuckles. "Is that a fact?" he snorts with surprise. "Well let's just make sure your alligator intentions don't write a check your hummingbird a3 can't cover." He chuckles mirthfully, nodding his approval. "Reggie's in with the mob, so he won't be alone, and he's never been a pushover, even before he got into bed with those heavy-hitters..."
At that moment Tiny's voice crackles to life over the locked/encrypted frequency. "You guys might want to look alive!" he mumbles, "It would appear that Reggie is super-late getting into the hunting zone, his car seems to have been hit, and there are doubts cast over his ability to make a good performance tonight. There is a rumor of conspiracy, but the mob takes that sort of accusation seriously, so for now everything is back in balance.” The channel squelch, now seemingly perfectly tuned, drops into total silence. “Underchannel reports that Reggie has suffered some blood loss caused by an undisclosed situation," he continues, "And nobody seems to understand how he got caught up in a vehicular accident over twenty minutes away from the posted hunting zone when he *should* have already *been* in the zone. Mysteries are beginning to stack up, and the mob handlers are considering giving Reggie a well-needed ‘rest’ for balance of the month if the remainder of tonight goes off well." The static crackles and spits quietly, a faint electronic sussurus, sound almost lost to the threshold of hearing. "If you guys do this right, Reggie may not be a contender ever again. That sounds like something worth working for, don't you agree?" The channel goes silent again, even the background RFI that usually ghosts across the signal is gone. For the moment...
At Tiny's message Ace perks up like a Terrier catching a tasty scent, eyes going wide and head moving as if to better sense the trail. He looks down at his decoy as if it's the source of his heightened awareness, silently radioing back via his internal on an encrypted "Group to All" channel: "Primary. Three. Roger. Out." Looking back up to Leeson and briefly waggling the decoy he says aloud: "Reggie's inbound but late. We should get moving to a better perch from which to pounce."
At that point Block offers Leeson his "M. Yrcanos" comm's address to Leeson. Leeson grins and returns the favor, providing a custom Commlink ID. When you glance down at it you notice his avatar seems to be a devil rat. Just great. You find yourself hoping that's just his sense of humor, but your inner sense mumbles something about there being "so much more" than meets the eye with Leeson...
Block then asks if there is a good building rooftop over near where Ms. Garcia likes/liked to go in and out of the Park... ...but where bumbling fools will not end up inside someone's living room by mistake *blush*.
At Block's request for such a better place to perch upon, Ace jabs a thumb and nods enthusiastically, chortling "What HE said!" Smiling he playfully bops Block on the shoulder to show there's no hard feelings, and goes back to paying attention to the conversation.
Leeson looks down thoughtfully, then looks back up, taking both Ace and Block into view. "A long time ago, three rats were sitting at a bar talking and bragging about their bravery and toughness. The first rat says, "I'm so tough, once I ate a whole bagful of rat poison!" The other rats seemed suitably impressed. The second rat vounteered, "Well I'm so tough, I was once caught in a rat trap and I bit it apart!" Again, everybody oohed and aahhed in appreciation. That's when the third rat got up, grabbing his keys and coat and said, "Later guys, I'm off home to harass the cat." He grins broadly. "That's us tonight, fellas," he continues, "We're going to go home and harass the cat..." he looks lost in thought for a second, then adds, "My home, anyway. You fellas should be fairly safe, once you get away from here, you play your cards right..."
Down the street you see the sillhouette that you suspect is Mr. X moseying in your direction. In you comms you hear a familiar voice, X is calling. "One to Two and Three, Current location?" You notice that whomever that is *is* strolling in the correct direction. How many guys do you know that just got off a bus on this block? That's surely Mr. X, on his way back from his fact-finding mission...
Ace pops up quickly over the edge of the roofworks to take a panoramic of the street below, thus providing the vantage point to prove their perch. He lowers his decoy ComLink, examines the image to make sure it's clear enough and sends it back via the encrypted "Group to All" link in his head. "One. Three. Look up. Out." Satisfied that it should let their comrade know where to look for us, Ace raises to squat on his haunches preparing to get moving.
The shadow efficiently picking its way up the street casually homes in on your general direction. Impressive, because he is on the same side of the street (Columbus Avenue, heading toward W 76th street) as you guys on the roof are - X must really be severely detail-oriented to pick up details like that as quickly as he seems to have. In scarcely more than a minute his lengthy strides bring him too close to the building to watch without leaning out over the edge - which could only attract unwanted attention. The strolling stranger disappears under an awning, hidden purpose and drive carrying him forward.
Leeson walks to the northeast edge of the roof (it's arranged like a diamond in reference to the magnetic compass rose), overlooking the corner of Columbus Avenue and W 76th Street. “Her door is right down there,” he supplies, pointing a few degrees north of exact east. You recognize that door --- the address is included in your precis of "someone to find". Looks like everything is adding up - and it also looks like Leeson could watch her door from just about anywere up here, if he wanted to. No wonder he seems sensitive to her goings-on over there.
A disembodied voice whispers something archaically complex, sounding something like a spell formula or something, and Leeson says, "Welcome, our Mr. X." He doesn't stir, but keeps looking over the edge of the roof at W 76th street. "I'm ever so glad you could get here in time - we're going to need all the help we can get, as we go harass the cat." He turns, apparently speaking to the empty air. There is nothing there at all. Not on the roof, at any rate. "We're happy you could make it."
Epilogue: No battle plan ever survives contact with reality. The GM has cancelled the "relocate by air" because nobody planned on X's arrival. Hold that thought - you may still decide to go that way - but X hasn't said anything yet, and nobody (well, almost nobody) knows where he is presently. That could change things... |
