"Tiny" informs the group that you'll need to form your own "group" channel. He has no problem feeding you information about "current events", but he has no desire to hear the play-by-play as you guys "get the job done - or don't". Also there's that ever-present question of culpability, and what he doesn't know about he can't testify to, so it's a good thing. "Each of you," he finalizes, "has a direct connection to me. If any one connection fails I can relay information through one of your team-mates, as necessary." As complicated as it sounds, it makes sense. "We are doing our best to thwart Murphy's Law while being as undetectable as possible," he adds, "as your combat theater is getting a little crowded, and I'm not sure if you'll even be needed. The Sons of the Neon Chrysanthemum" he continues "have somehow invited themselves into the fray, and they may even be heavier hitters than the "Family" that organizes this thing..."
As he retreats to the bar, his back turned firmly to you, you continue to hear him on channel. "You'll each need to go and prepare - I assure you that I don't often work on projects with no notice at all, such as the one we are involved in tonight." He casually replaces the bottle under the bar. "It's all becoming very iffy," he all but mutters, the volume level almost lost under the buffers of static that occasionally crackle into the transmission. "...very iffy indeed. This should *not* be the big deal that it has exploded into. Gotta' get to the bottom of that..."
His signal drops into the background noise, gets cut off by your own internal squelch filter. Amazing how he can do that, make an almost analog transmission in a totally digital media. That fact alone makes you curious what else this guy might have up his sleeve --- or under his skin. Like the saying goes, "These days when you shoot someone you're never sure whether they'll beleed or leak hydraulic fluid..." Surprises are everywhere, and not everything is as it seems...
"Yeah, you guys slope off outta' here - don't rush, don't even appear like you're the least bit excited. Go and do that thing that you do, then signal me that you're ready. I'll give you the immediate sitrep, and then we can do what we do. To maintain balance in nature, right?" At you next glance, he's serving the same she-elf that took up the slack for him while he was "on break". They're mumbling about something, and from the sly look on her face you suspect it's more on the conspiratorial biological side, if that's even possible... |
