NationStates Jolt Archive

A lone woman walked quickly down an unlit street, small eddies of low-hanging mist swirling in her wake. Turning a corner, she pulled a thin jacket tighter about herself as protection against the chill. It was late… much too late to be walking in this town unaccompanied. The ancient stone architecture of the buildings lent an old village feel to the small city, lulling the unwary into a comfortable ease. It was not an overly dangerous town, but one which preyed on the blissfully ignorant. Anita tripped on the uneven cobblestone paving, instinctively flinging a hand to the grimy wall for balance. Cursing at the street, she wiped the grit from her hand and continued, taking a left at the end of the lane. The narrow streets were warm and quaint in daylight, but transformed into an unforgiving maze in the dark.

Turning the corner, the next street was bordered on one side by the old city wall, a testament to the solid nature of ancient construction and centuries of defense against raiding forces. Across from the wall was a green space, filled with shrubs and a few meager, willowy trees.

“Got the time?”

She glanced at her watch and responded without pausing. “2:15.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

With a sigh she turned her head for a moment and called the time again over her shoulder, quickly searching for the stranger among the trees without slowing her pace. Seeing no one, she continued on, but stopped short with a gasp as a tall man stood directly before her. He wore a hood pulled low over his face, the rest of him obscured beneath a long ragged coat.

“Awfully late to be out alone.. wouldn’t you agree?” His voice was a raspy whisper, somewhere between hoarse and naturally soft-spoken.

She froze, feeling her face grow pale, her fists tensing in her pockets with alarm. As the man took a step forward, she was able to pull free of his strangely paralyzing gaze, sidestepping quickly around him. He watched her nervously pass, but made no move to stop her. Anita glanced over her shoulder, shaken, but resisted the urge to break into a run.

By the time she reached her apartment near the university, she wondered if the strange encounter had really happened at all. Briefly, she considered calling a friend, but remembered the time and decided the story would have to wait until class tomorrow. A quick shower both warmed and calmed her, melting away the day’s stress and cleansing her of the street's grime. Refreshed, Anita gratefully slid beneath warm covers and resigned herself to sleep.

Some time later, she woke with a start, unable to determine how long she had slept. It was still dark outside. Had it been a nightmare? She struggled to name the source of her lingering unease, but her sleep-fogged mind would not cooperate. Restlessly she turned from her side and stared at the ceiling, watching the shifting shadows of branches swaying in the night. Gradually, she became aware of the unmoving shadows beside her bed. Something was wrong. Uncomprehendingly, she turned her head and gazed at the hooded man sitting on a chair at her bedside, watching her silently. Though the hood and shadows shielded his eyes, she knew it to be the same man from the street. Anita had time to gasp out the beginnings of a scream before the man grabbed her by a fistful of hair and slapped a chloroform-soaked rag over her nose and mouth. He remained expressionless as her flailing limbs quickly grew limp, her struggle subsiding. Anita choked on the vapors, realizing despite her hazy mind that the moonlight and shadows falling across her bed would be the last things she ever saw. It was her last conscious thought.



(ooc: Mostly open CO-RP. For burning questions send a TG.)

Dale Truman squinted his eyes up and looked down the bottle on his desk, consciously willing it to refill. When, for the thirtieth time this week, his pseudo-psychic efforts proved to be in vain, he replaced the glass on his desk and stood up in his leatherette chair.

Business wasn't slow, per se.

Saying that it was slow meant that it was actually moving at all.

Striking up a match, he lit a cigarette he had fished from his pocket and took a short, sharp drag. With a light chuckle, he recalled how white the wallpaper used to be; especially compared to the powdery-yellow colour it had become in recent years. Too many cigarettes, too little fresh air.

Not through choice, of course. His office just happened to be directly above the trash dump for the building. Compared to the stench of that, stale smoke was like a waft of purity from nirvana.

Dale Truman; Private Investigator. No job too small, no shortage of cynicism and no hope. A deadbeat, in a dead-end job, in a run-down office block in a city that didn't care. Every few weeks, some walking fossil would tap on his door and plea with him to track down her missing, sweet Francis or Jerry or Teddy, who would unsurprisingly turn out to be a frustrated feline, fed up of a diet of skimmed milk and Rich Tea biscuits.

It had been well over a year since Truman had handled a real case. He thought that had been his big break; hero P.I. saves teen girl from the hands of a snarling maniac with a fetish for stabbing every vein in the human body. Even took a couple of slugs to his chest for the privilege. Talk of the town for a whole month, before the new series of Survivor started up. What he wouldn't give for another chance to feel the rising intensity of a search, the moment of truth, the rush of success.

It was a wish he'd soon be granted, and one he'd regret long after.

The underground room was dim and smelled faintly of limestone. Bare stone walls arched inwards forming a shape similar to that of a small HAS. The old city architects used a design similar to that of the Romans, and much of the obscure network of underground structures was still sound. It was here that he brought Anita, to one of his sacred places. Unknown to all but a select few. Effortlessly, he lifted her body off his shoulder and onto a straight-backed wooden chair. Dropping to one knee, he tied her wrists to the arms of the chair, her ankles to the legs. This girl was a student at the university. He was taking a risk. Until now, all his dealings had been with people that would not be missed. But he was ready. Gingerly, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face and whispered to her.

“Your blood will sustain me now.”

From his waist he produced a curved blade similar to a small sickle. The tip pierced the top of her forearm, cutting a shallow line across. Dabbing a finger in the blood, he drew a symbol on her forehead. Long ago the symbol had been used by his Druid ancestors. Now it would keep Anita asleep until he had no further use for her. Tasting what blood remained on his fingertip, he smiled thinly and stood. Pulling the hood over his eyes once more, he left Anita to her dark solitude and secured the door as he left.

Truman snubbed out another cigarette, re-checked the empty whisky bottle, before finally glancing at his wristwatch. His designated lunch break was over, and it was now time to go back to work. Walking to his desk, he leaned down and plugged his office telephone back in to the wall.

It was a futile gesture, of course, but it reminded him somewhat of the days when people phoned him for his help; lunchtime was once a one-hour window of peace, a little sanctuary of silence when he could concentrate on absolutely nothing. No phone-calls to disturb him, no business.

Since business had dried up, he'd kept with the tradition, if only to make himself feel more relaxed in an hour of sheer laziness. It had probably cost him more business, but old habits die hard.

With the phone back in, he sat in his leatherette chair, produced a folded newspaper from his coat pocket and opened it at the crossword page.

Jack woke as the sun poked a few rayed through the curtains of his room. He spent a moment debating whether or not it was worth getting out of bed that peticular morning. Mentally he ran through the checklist for the day and came to the same conclusion as always; yes he could sleep in, but in the end it was just eaier to wake up. Sighing he rolled out of bed and made his way through his morning routine.

Half an hour later, showered and dressed, he headed out from his little corner room on the dorm's 3rd floor. In passing, he wondered if he'd catch sight of the girl that lived on the floor below him. They'd usually pass on pleasantries when they passed each other going up and down the stairs. Jack just hadn't mustered the courage to press beyond that. It looked like it would stay that way for a least one more day, as he reached the bottom floor and crossed through the lobby without catching sight of her. Jack shrugged and descided to make his way to the cafe just outside the university grounds for breakfast. His first class wasn't until noon, so he had the morning entirely to himself. He pressed out the double doors into the warmth of the morning sun and set off down the path leading east off the grounds.

"Reassigned...." a woman's voice scuffed, as she threw her three hundred dollar pen across the desk, "fine then." The woman grabbed her business jacket and slung it over her shoulder, storming out of the elaborate office.

"But what about your stuff?" a quiet voice asked after her.

Without turning she hissed, "burn them" as she continued to walk, her heels clicking fervently away from the room.


That was three months ago.

Now she sat behind a chipped wooden desk in a lousy cheap spinning chair that creaked if she leaned back too far. "Wonderful," she grunted to herself, thinking back to what she no longer had, her lavish office with its long windows, city view, and ornate desk complimented by that high back leather chair.

Leaning back, the chair creaked as she crossed her arms before her and stared at the small silver badge and gun sitting on the desk before her. Fresh off her superb military training and she landed herself as an executive in competitive business and after a deal gone bad, reassigned to this shit hole position as an every day average police officer who was supposed to keep a low profile until they lined up a different position for her. She scuffed again, and pulled out a hand to examine her nails, which were beginning to accumulate dirt from the every day demands of apprehending filth.

Stepping over to her desk, someone haphazardly tossed a file onto her desk. Without waiting for her to recognize his presence, he began to speak in a low pitched gruff sounding voice, "Now Kay, we just got a call in and it’s kind of a sensitive issue around the office. You know, one of those college girls gone missing. Chief says a friend or someone reported the case but no ones found anything. You wanna head the case?"

"It's Trinity Kay," she said without looking up.

"Trinity Kay," he grumbled angrily, "Now what do you say?"

"For you it's Lieutenant Trinity Kay," she again spoke without looking up.

"Lieutenant Trinity Kay," he slowly spat each word, grinding his teeth.

Trinity Kay looked up. It was just another one of those pompous pigs pawning off a job they think isn't important enough for their precious time. Oh how she was beginning to hate these men. No wonder they were called pigs on the streets.

"Yeah whatever," she said, turning back to her nails without giving him another look.

After waiting a few moments for her to give him something more to boost his pathetic sense of an ego, he turned with a grunt and stormed away muttering something about her impudence and the people who stationed her here.

With him well out of eye sight, Trinity leaned forward and opened the folder. A picture paper clipped to several affidavits and reports gave her the base information she would need. She was about to just send out a search team into the nearby park when something odd struck her, something that stirred her insides like that business deal gone bad....something in it was just wrong.

Picking up the phone, she dialed a series of numbers quickly. He was a private investigator who won some respect some time ago for his diligence on a case most people gave up on; Dale Truman, she believed his name was. A man like that, she would need him on her task force. Setting the headset against her shoulder, she listened to the rings as she sorted the papers out to read the preliminary information easily.

The hooded man briefly checked in on his other guests, ensuring each slept soundly. None were dead yet, but one of the girls seemed close. She’d been in his care for nearly a week now, and was holding out a surprisingly long time. He would grant them respite during the day, and begin work with Anita tonight. Shedding the ragged coat, he changed into less conspicuous attire before going topside.

In jeans and a button up shirt, he easily passed for just one of the crowd. Shrugging into a worn but serviceable leather coat, he made his way through the maze of ruins to the better preserved architecture of the city. Pulling his medium long, dark hair into a loose ponytail, he walked among the crowds easily. Liam was a known reporter and amateur musician who had managed to attract a small following from the university. Stifling a yawn, he decided on a cup of coffee before his usual report time at the Star Journal. Pale blue eyes swept the interior of his favorite coffee shop as he strode gracefully to the counter to place his order.

The objective of caffeine achieved, he decided to stroll through campus on his way to work. Several of the students knew him, and he found amusement in their conversations. Besides, he’d need to know if last night’s girl had been discovered missing yet. That piece of information would prove crucial to his nocturnal movements.

Truman's ball-point hovered above the last box of his crossword, imminent victory almost at hand over the forces of the English language, when his phone started ringing. His eyes flicked over to it, and he sat there in a state of catatonia.

It was probably just a double-glazing salesman, trying to pitch the latest and greatest in insulating technology. Or maybe his landlord, trying to get his rent for the second time that month (Truman once suspected he'd merely forgotten that he'd received his rent a few weeks earlier. Now he was moderately certain that the bastard was trying to extort him).

It rang again. There was something deeply unsettling about a ringing phone. A deep, primal part of him wanted to make the ringing stop and go away.

Then again, maybe it was a client. A real client. A non-fossilised one. He'd been waiting for an age for his Big Break™ to come for him, and now he was staring at the possibility. Dropping the ball-point, he snatched up the handpiece and answered, "Dale Truman, Investigations. Name your troubles."

Lukas found himself struggling to keep his brain active enough to stay awake. Each eye felt like there was a sandbag attached to each eye lash as they dropped slowly and dashed upwards. The classroom became blury as he tried to focus on the figure of Dr.Trent, his Criminal Justice teacher. Dr.Trent was bland, the living encyclopedia which drabbed on and on about legal proceeding regarding a search warrant. Other students sympathized with Lukas's situation of near death. Thinking of a way to stay awake, he began drawing circles on the edge of his notes which were dutifully written up until after the first ten minutes of the seminar which was now entering an hour and a half.

It was difficult to concentrate, not just to a lack of sleep, but other personal issues. His life over the past month has been demanding and mentally and emotionally draining. Lukas began to look off, his mind wrapped up on one subject which happened to have ten different directions to it. Last week, he and his girlfriend decided to break off their relationship. There were numerous reasons and circumstances involving this situation. For the most part, they came to an agreement and left on descent enough terms. He was going to graduate not too long from now, she wanted to pursue her own goals which were in an opposite direction than his. Also, one of Anita's friends claimed to have seen Lukas at a fraternity party with another girl which in reality was a fabrication by the reporting friend who tried to make a move on Lukas but was shot down.

It just seemed like they wouldn;t work out, even though Lukas cared for her greatly. Perhaps he didn't say I love you enough? The phrase: I love you, is a phrase that Lukas was very careful to use, fearing that putting too much emotional value into anyone might just result in heartbreak.

"Mr.Lansgaar, is something on your mind?" Mr.Trent's voice echoed through the silent classroom, snapping Lukas back to realityu. He fumbled for even a weak reply.

"Uh-No, I'm fine" Lukas felt embarrasses and wanted to shrink into his chair.

"Good, alright class, let's turn to Chapter 14 in your books and look at the second heading" Mr.Trent shot him a glance and then turned to a book.

He flipped through the pages of the heavy and information ladden textbook and sat back in his seat. He decided to send Anita a text message, just to see how she's doing. Lukas hadn't seen her in about three days and last talked to her yesterday in one of the Halls.

Hey, what are u doin

He pressed SEND and waited for a reply.

Liam sipped at his coffee at precisely the moment his pocket began to vibrate. His fingers closed around the mobile he'd taken from last night's girl. It was a habit of his to carry any sort of personal communications equipment his victims carried, pagers, cellphones, BlackBerries, etc, just in case. If they carried anything to begin with. It usually bought him an extra day or two before attracting attention to the disappearance. Anita's phone had been on the nightstand, and he'd snatched it out of habit. Now he glanced down at the screen informing him of a new message. Pressing "View" he called the text to the screen and read the words. Quickly mulling over his options, his deft fingers picked out a short reply.

I'm sick.. won't be around for a few days I think.

It was always a crap shoot, but he hit "Send" and noted the recipient's name. Lukas.

Having drained the last of the coffee, he tossed the paper cup in a trash bin and set out for his office at the Star.

As usual the cafe was buzzing with lively students. Jack smiled as he stepped up to the counter.

"Morning Liz."

The woman behind the counter, who was about 10 years Jack's senior smiled back.

"Morning Jack. You're usual?"

"You read my mind."

Liz winked, passed him number stand 15, and called back to the cook staff for a pig fry on a double chick. Translated that was a bacon omlete. As he walked down the line, Jack picked out a pair of english muffins, a packet of butter and one of the honey jars, then took his bread and number back to his usual corner booth. He got a sense of dejavu as he slid onto the dark green leather.

I think I'm begining to get too predictable.

The smell of fresh coffee shook him out of the moment; Liz's son Erik delivered his omlete and poured him a cup of coffee. Jack passed a casual "Thanks" then started in on his breakfast.

The phone vibrated in his hoodie pocket and quickly flipped it open. She actaully replied. He clicked READ and looked over the message. Anita wouldn't be around for a few days it appeared, feeling a bit sick. He closed the phone but his head remained downward. Is she avoiding me? Or is she really sick? A small part of him felt suspicious of the message but pushed that thought out of his mind and finally started concentrating on his studies. The bell rang and Lukas lept from his seat, gathering up his backpack and struggled past the other students.

"Hey Lukas!" his friend Henry called out over the mass of students. Lukas stopped and turned around.

"What's up?" Lukas asked in a dull tone.

"You alright?" Henry inquired, "You looked like a zombie all through class, man"

"I'm fine...I guess" Lukas trailed off.

"Listen Lukas, you need to forget about Anita and move on. I know this one chick in Government that is smoking-"

"Thanks but no thanks, Henry. I'm not interested" Lukas waved his hand, dismissively.

"Great!" Henry smiled, "She's all mine then, how can she resist my charms?" Henry joked.

"Your guess is as good as mine" Lukas walked off.

Trinity scrawled several thoughts on a small notepad before her as she waited for this investigator to pick up, the phone securely tucked between her shoulder and cheek. It became apparent after the fourth ring that this Dale was either busy or no longer available and she felt a slight pang of disappointment at the thought that she might not be able to get ahold of him.

Nonetheless, persistence was a cursed blessing for her and sometimes paid off. Scrawling down thoughts as she organized her information, she waited patiently. When the phone was finally answered, she leaned back in her seat and held the phone in her hand.

"Dale, hello. My name is Cadence Carlisle, a local officer who was assigned the case of a missing college woman. Before you hang up hear me out," she quickly spoke, wondering if the fact that this case seemed so trivial that anyone would slam the phone down after laughing at her.

"This young woman, her name is Anita, has not really been reported missing yet. Family and friends have not come forward but strange sources report that she is missing. We have statements from the university's janitor who reported not seeing Anita for the past few days and also from a few concerned professors who happened to notice she missed important exams yesterday, which apparently is uncharacteristic behavior for this young woman. I started digging around on other cases and I found this report from a homeless man who lives nearby the university. He states that he saw a man carrying a young woman away from the university at an early morning hour the other night, but he does not remember the time and cannot identify the individuals," she paused for a brief moment, letting him gather his thoughts.

"Now Dale, I called because I thought this would interest you. I have a hunch I am following and I have reason to believe that this is not your everyday missing woman case. I heard that you solved a pretty impressive crime not too long ago. I need a mind like your own to help me solve this case. Would you be interested in working together as a team? We can meet for lunch or a coffee to discuss this further if you like? I am a hasty person so I apologize if you seem that I dumped this on your plate so fast and expect you to eat it all in one sitting, but time is an essence for me and I like to solve these tricky cases before they become ugly. And I have a gut feeling this one may get very ugly very shortly."

She held the phone still, sitting in silence as she waited his reply. She grew nervous, anticipating his answer, hoping he would work with her. Men around the precinct were not dependable and often held her back. She needed someone else, someone more spontaneous and bold enough to pursue obscure leads. Dale seemed the perfect candidate.

Dale tried to hold back his desperate response to the request. It was what he had been looking for, sure, but the last time he'd handled a "Missing girl" case, he'd wound up with a perforated chest. It made for impressive party stories, but it had hurt like hell at the time.

"Okay, I'll help you out, Cadence Carlisle, local officer. There's a café near the University. A student joint if there ever was; best coffee in town, and I could use a snack. I'll meet you there in half an hour, okey dokey?"

There were other reasons for meeting near the University, too, beyond superb caffeinated beverage; if a student goes missing, other students tend to be goldmines of possibly-true rumours as they indulge in a cup of joe. And, if nothing else, it was convenient for the University to find out what the girl was like.

...and the coffee really was the best in town.

Flynn closed his shop, FLYNN's PETS, for the night. Turning off the lights and plunging the store into an eerie darkness broken only by the soft glow of the aquariums, He quietly made his rounds, checking his stock of pet foods, equiptment, supplies and finally ending up at the various pets.

The small animals settled down for their sleep while the nocturnal ones were quietly exploring their cages. those he fed. then he grabbed a plate and went to the aquariums.

hmm.... 2 goldfish, one tetra...

he looked at the plate containing the dead fish.

still... better than last night.

he places the plate at the checkout counter as a small rustling sound from one of the kitten cages drew his attention. Inside, a young tabby stirred as if troubled by a nightmare. his litter-mates squirmed for comfort as the little one's eyes popped open and it stared up at Flynn, mewing in distress.

"nightmares little one?" Flynn picked up the kitten and held him close as he walked back to the counter.

within moments, the kitten was asleep. the plate empty of fish and Flynn quietly moved towards the back of the store. Deftly avoiding the obsticals, grabbing his cane and exited through the back door.

+++

He heard them long before they made their move, two blocks from his apartment two men dashed out of the alleyway. Knives ready and their intent clear.

"evening gentlemen" Flynn stared at them as they circled him. Stale alcohol on their breath and the discoloration on their eyes gave evidence that they were hopped up on something.

"Giv us your money and you won't be hurt" the larger one growled as his partner circled behind.

"normally, I would comply with such a polite request, however, my rent is due and so I really have nothing to spare at this time. if, however, you want to come back in two weeks..." Shouldn't be doing this... but dammit, it's been a long time since I had some fun... Flynn calmly kept his attention on the man infront of him.

"Eh Jimmy... we got ourselves a comedian here..." the smaller man giggled.

"Sorry, about that" the larger man grinned, "but we also need the money now. guess your rent is gonna be late."

the sound of the cane hitting the sidewalk echoed sharply off of the building as the two men lunged towards Flynn.

+++

Flynn cracked open his apartment door and looked at the officer... he stiffled a yawn as the officer opened his notebook.

"sorry to bother you this eary, but there was an 'incident' nearby. It appears to have happened late last night or early this morning. I was wondering if you've seen or heard anything unusual?"

"last night?" Flynn looked thoughtful as the officer just looked bored.

"nope, sorry. I came home about... 11:30... but didn't see any... wait," the officer perked up at this "I do remember a couple of guys hanging around the alleyway nearby. thought they looked dangerous so I gave em a wide birth." Flynn proceded to give the officer a description of the two men... a heavily edited discription.

"I see... well, those two are our vics... sounds like a mugging gone bad. you didn't see anyone else?"

"Nope, sorry... so it has nothing to do with all these missing people?"

"no, different case. Thanks for your help sir." the officer calmly made a note on his pad. "we appreciate your taking time."

"Hey, no problem. after all, it's you cops that are there to keep the dangerous elements off of our streets. I hope you catch whoever it is that killed those two."

The officer gave a polite smile and proceeded to the next door as Flynn closed his door.

They didn't even put up a decent fight. Flynn sullenly thought as he got ready to open his store. Still, a nice change of pace from this rut.

Liam found himself stopped on at least two occasions by a group of students, the latter being a rather delicious looking troop of sorority girls. He wasn't overly attractive, in fact he considered himself quite ordinary even with the longish hair, but there was just something about a man who played guitar, apparantly. The coeds were enough to make him stop and consider the age of consent, but he brushed them off coolly. Mostly the students wanted to know where his next gig was and when, a few trying to gain his favor in hopes of free entry at one of the cover-charging venues. He spent his walk listening to the conversations around him, scanning for anything of interest. The rumor mill didn't seem to be operating at full capacity for the moment.

An electronic trill broke his concentration sharply, and he withdrew his own mobile from the depths of a pocket. It was his boss at the Star.

"Liam, where are you?"

"University."

"Good. Since you're late, there's an accident on Castor Street. Someone hit a pedestrian. See what you can find out."

Sráid na Castor he corrected mentally. Liam sighed and terminated the connection. Reporting was dull, tedious work, but it gave him access to information that would normally be unavailable. Accidents meant gardaí, and a chance to gather intel. Castor was a mere block away. He'd be there in no time.


(ooc: garda (sing.) gardaí (pl.) - Police. For RP purposes, either term is fine, but I'll be mostly using the gaelic form in my posts.)

OOC: Double post

After disconnecting the call with Dale, Trinity gathered her cell phone and small notepad and stuffed them inside a small pocket book as she gathered the papers and slid them into the folder. Tucking the folder safely into her desk, she left the office in haste, leaving through the back door as to avoid annoying questions....not that she would answer them anyway.

She was about to jump into an unmarked police car when she realized that the campus was not too far and to avoid traffic it might have just been easier to walk....easier to blend in as a native as well on foot. Her heels clicked away down the pavement as she traveled along the sidewalks, periodically cutting across streets, until the university campus and surrounding establishments spread before her.

As she walked, she replayed the conversation in her head, cementing it firmly in her memory. However, she could not contain a leap of excitement. She had a good hard working man on this case, someone who would actually work to solve it. But she would need to test his field skills, she reminded herself, knowing that if any conflict arouse they would need to be capable of defending each other's backs.

Crossing the streets she momentarily forgot how confusing these streets could be and now she stood in the middle of a crowded street not remembering where to turn. Classes were letting out for lunch, she could tell as so many people swarmed the streets for a bite to eat or just some friendly socializing. She watched for several moments, and decided to follow a small group of students who she briefly heard mention of grabbing a coffee. With Dale's word still in her head, she resolved to follow them, knowing that if this joint was the best cafe, it would surely be the only cafe these students would go to. To her satisfaction, there was the cafe before her. Students from all over were pouring in and she found herself amazed that the cafe could hold all of them.

She slid amongst the students, edging her way closer to the line. She spotted a college man waiting in line and slid up next to him. "Hey, I'm in a hurry, mind if I slip ahead of you?" she asked.

The college student looked her up and down, a slender woman but with evidence of a well developed physique. She wore a tight frame fitting business suit, giving no suggestion that she might have been a police officer. "Uh sure," the man said, stepping slightly back to give her room.

"Thanks," she winked back at him and quickly placed an order for two espressos. When she had her drinks, she looked around the cafe to find any single men already seated, but it was packed with groups of two and three. Sliding into the only open booth that seated two, she started sipping cautiously at her hot drink.

Truman's office was conveniently close to the edge of campus, making the walk to the cafe an easy trip on any day he needed a boost. He was a tall man, by most people's standards, but excessively so. He was pushing past thirty and beginning to show it, with years of smoking and drinking catching up with him. His dark brown hair had streaks of grey running through it.

He had kept himself in reasonably good shape, however. A few nights of every week, he'd hit the local gym for an hour, lifting weights and generally convincing himself it'd buy back the years he'd sacrificed by smoking.

Wearing a dark suit that had clearly seen better days and an overcoat that might have been used as blackout curtains at one point, he didn't exactly fit in to the trendy student crowd of the cafe. They usually gave him plenty of space, but at least the owner was on speaking terms with him. He moved around the joint, looking for someone who looked like a local police officer, but found no one.

Jack was just finishing his second cup of coffee when the lunch crowd started to appear. He looked at his watch and realized he had only 15 minutes to make it to his first class. From the watch he looked back at the coffee.

[i]Bah. To hell with it. When am I gunna need that class anyway. I mean seriously. I can understand needing some history in the degree plan, but what use is "Ancient Cultures?"[i]

Having made up his mind, Jack reclined in the booth and took to people watching. The next time Eric came around to refil his cup, Jack slid him enough cash to pay for the meal and just about as much subsiquent coffee he could want. By now the cafe was nearing capacity and there was a good sized line at the counter. A rather tall man, who was obviously neither a student nor teacher, stalked into the cafe. It wasnt unheard of for buisnessmen from the area to brave the student hot spot, but it was rare enough to draw the attention of some of the students, Jack included.

Just then, his poket began to vibrate. He pulled out his PDA and opened the new txt that waited for him.

->"Have you heard? Theres a rumor goin around that a girl has gone missing?"

Dani was addicted to gossip. Jack had known this for years. But it was entertaining to listen to her speal all kinds of stories around every day events, so he gave her a little rope and replyed with a txt of his own.

<-"Really? Any idea what happened?"

Flynn finished sweeping out the front stoop when Amanda came running in.

"whoa, slow down. you're only part-time, I ain't giving you any benefits...yet." he smiled as his college part time worker ran past. his smile disappeared as he watched her enter the back room to put on her apron.

*sniff* anxiety, fear, sorrow... no... worry. a quick glance at the calendar Too early for finals... somethings up.

he put the broom away and did a round of his small store. as he expected, Amanda stood at the rumble pens, a set of pens were customers can interact with several of the stores animals. a sort of testing area to see if the pet will get along with the family... and a place were many a parent has dropped off their kids as they go visit the nearby stores. Flynn didn't mind being an ad hoc daycare center... after all, most of thoes parents ended up buying a pet for their child after a couple of days of listening to their children beg.

He walked up to Amanda as she watch a child being gang-licked by three puppies.

"Problems?"

"err... boss, I got a favor to ask."

Flynn scratched his head as he stared off into the distance. "who?"

Amanda grinned she could never get used to calling him by his one name. She knew he hated any form of titles but she just felt uncomfortable calling him "Flynn... I need a favor."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"I need to knock off early... can I"

"big test? or date?" he studied her body language and her scent.

"a... a classmate went missing and we're getting together to look for her."

"Sure. take as long as you need." Flynn snapped his finger when one of the puppies started to growl during a tug-o-war with a ragged blanket. the puppy stopped and looked at Flynn. then managed to look contrite as the boy picked him up to carry him to the other puppies.

Amanda didn't miss that transaction. she marvelled how well behaved the animals were. no matter how aggressive they got, they always stopped at a snap of his fingers, or a look he would toss them. She smiled at her manager.

"thanks."

"No problem. what time are you meeting and where. maybe I can help too?"

"University Quad, 8 o'clock... and thanks again."

"if it's gonna be a late night foray, you better get some sleep. go home. I'll see you there."

Amanda looked torn but Flynn urged her out of his store.

I shouldn't get involved... I shouldn't get involved... but... Flynn grinned as Amanda headed out the door, since when did I stick to doing things I should be doing.

Trinity sat behind her drink, sipping away at the hot liquid. Periodically, she glanced up at the still horrendous line of students that seemed to continuously be pouring in. It was by chance she supposed that she caught a glimpse of a man who seemed to be looking around for someone.

She could not identify him easily as Dale, but he vaguely resembled the man she had seen grinning in the papers after he caught that deranged serial killer. It was worth a shot, she told herself, and raised a hand as if hailing a cab.

Hopefully he would notice her and take a seat, and it was not until he passed a glance over her briefly did she realize she had no identification on her. Perhaps it was better as to not arouse suspicions when a local cop was meeting a private investigator for coffee, but she realized how incredibly difficult she had just made it for Dale to recognize her.

She then stood, hoping her assumptions were correct and walked over to the man, her heels clicking evenly as she approached him. She extended her hand, "Hello, I am Cadence. Dale I presume?" she asked, really hoping now that she had not just made a fool of herself. Of course, that went to say that she did not even think that this man could have been any man instead of Dale and was just looking for a place to sit in this crowded room. She desperately wanted to slap herself in the head then, but resisted the urge. "I'm sorry, are you Dale? I am supposed to meet a man named Dale. You know how these things work," she winked, giving the impression to any onlookers that she was simply here on a blind date.

Truman arched an eyebrow and shook the young woman's hand.

"I'm Dale Truman. Which would make you Cadence Carlisle?" He grinned and motioned for her to sit back down at her booth. "Off duty, Ms. Carlisle? Or have the local police adopted a much more... chic uniform?"

Trinity took her seat again and passed the extra drink to him, hoping it was to his liking. She laughed about his comment on her attire, "I can't stand those uniforms. You couldn't catch me dead in one! I'm good at what I do so they make a few exceptions," she winked.

She smiled at him as her eyes quickly took in the surrounding area. No one seemed intently interested in their conversation so she decided to go ahead with her information. "Dale, I see you have a very keen skill for tracking down suspects and sticking to tricky cases. Congratulations on that case. It's why I need you on this one. This young woman....her case....sometimes does not feel right about it. I just have a feeling this is not your average missing girl case. I have not been able to compile a complete list of this young woman, since few people are reporting her missing in the first place. I think we should try to find out more information about her. What are your ideas? Where do you think we should start?" she asked, briefly looking over the room as if nonchalantly scanning the crowd.

Liam arrived at the scene of the accident just as medical crews were finishing up. From talking briefly with police, he discovered that this was just your typical combination of inattentive driving meets student population. The victim was an 18 yr old freshman named Dean. EMT's had checked him over, but there were no serious injuries. The boy had refused further treatment, and now sat on a curb while the garda checked his story. Liam edged his way over in sly fashion, taking notes on a small reporter's notepad. While listening to the kid's story, he also kept half an ear on the officer's radio as it chattered. Nothing struck him as important. When the garda finished up, he offered Dean a hand.

"Holdin' up alright?"

"Yeah.. just a little sore. I'll be fine."

"My name's Liam. I'm a reporter with the Star Journal. Mind if I ask you a few more questions?"

The kid studied him a moment, then finally shrugged his approval.

"You up for it now, or do you wanna catch a bite to eat first? It's on me."

Not surprizingly, Dean opted for a free meal. Liam ensured the garda were done with him, then led the way to a sidewalk cafe. Over lunch, he learned that the kid had crossed at a crosswalk on his way to class, but an oncoming car couldn't stop in time. The only thing wounded was his pride. His friends thought it was cool. There was a university rumor that students struck by vehicles on campus were entitled to compensation. Liam didn't want to disappoint him with the truth. Conversation then turned to the boy's history. He had immigrated to Gaeltach for school, leaving his family behind in a country Liam had never heard of. He didn't think Dean sounded like a Gaelic name, and the story only confirmed his suspicion. Finished gathering the somewhat uninteresting information, Dean provided contact information and an address. Liam left money on the table and stood.

"Thanks for your time, Dean. We'll send you a copy of the paper."

As he walked back towards the Star, he smiled inwardly on his plans for the evening.

Again Jack's pocket buzzed. He fished out the phone and opened it.

->"Well suposedly she's this superstudent and she just got out of a relationship and was super depressed but not in a sucidal way. Like Jamie said she was sad but not sad sad. Anyway she was caught on her way home by a vampire. Oh by the way have you head about all the new vampire stuff thats been goin on besides her..."

It went on for awhile after that; no breaks, just alot of talk. Jack just laughed lightly to himself. Dani did have an imagination about her. Vampire activity wasnt entirely unheard of in the world, but Jack couldn't help but scoff at the rediculousness of all of her claims. And while he had started the conversation just for mild amusement, after the last message...

-> "... and then there was this thing down in the old district with this orphanages..."

...scratch that, the last 2 messages, his stomach for the whole thing turned. The easiest thing to do was just to let her rant for awhile. After an additional message a minute later which seemed to be the end of it, he replied with his usual vague feight of interest.

<-"Wow Dani. How you manage to scrounge all this up is just disturbing. But I got class. I'll talk to you later."

With that he shut the phone with authority and settled back into people watching and casual eve's dropping.

Truman lifted his espresso, took a sip and took a moment to enjoy the feeling. It was something he'd always refused to do; rush a nice cup of coffee. Some things just aren't done in civilised society.

Finally, he responded.

"Students are easy to find information about, if you're asking with the right authority. Once we're done here, we should go to the Student Office and ask for her records. That'll give you a clearer picture of who we're looking for, this... whatshername."

He sipped his coffee again, and looked away from the table.

"There's just something you need to get clear in your head right now; there's no guarantee our girl isn't floating down a storm drain right now with a big gash in her jugular. Don't get your hopes up of making a heroic rescue."

The trees swayed in the breeze. They moved in unison and whipped back to their original positions and teetered again. Lukas took a moment to marvel at the simplistic existance of other living things. A squirrel scurried up the oak trunk of the tree, spiraling upwards, pausing halfway up, then ascending into the leaves, disappearing, safe and secure from the world.

"Must be easy" Lukas said aloud. The open green area offered some relaxation and a chance to unwind from the stress of...well, everything.

The walkways were occupied by other students, criss-crossing to their respective classes, others sat lazily along the grassy open area, some of them couples. Others sat in solitude, dutifully studying for their exams. Lukas decided against calling Anita again, if she was sick, she wouldn't want to be bothered by her ex-boyfriend.

The quickest path to the Star took Liam across campus once again. Tonight, it wouldn't matter whether or not they had discovered Anita missing, so he withdrew a paper napkin from his pocket. Pulling out Anita's cellphone as well, he wiped it down completely, destroying all traces of his fingerprints. When it came to covering his tracks, he was an undisputed pro. Folding the napkin around the phone, he discreetly discarded it in one of the trash cans lining the side of the walkway. That was the last piece of physical evidence linking them.. except her person, of course.

Liam wouldn't bother reporting in to the Star today. Instead, he was much more interested in tending to his... guests. There was much prep work to accomplish before he could take in a new one.

"Why of course," Trinity let a dark smile creep across her face, her voice carrying a hint of dark menace beneath it "heroes are far too sloppy and dependent on luck."

She grabbed her half filled drink and slid out of the booth, "let's walk and talk as we head to the university. It'll seem more casual. I'll be Anita's cousin, in to town visiting her because oh I don't know, let's say she was feeling depressed, trouble with school or something. I'll try to see what I can get from the students. You can hit up the teachers and such," she said with a wink, "sound like a plan?"

He posted a message on his window that due to an emergency, the shop will be closing at 7:30 instead of the normal 10:00. and when the time rolled around, he apologied to his customers as he made the annoucement and began locking up.

A short trip home to shower, change and equipt himself with some old friends. first a gnarled cane, which concealed a hidden blade. then he donned a decorative belt with some nasty surprises built in. He picked up his backpack, and placed in some splints, bandages and other First Aid materials. Finally he placed two knives in his boot hilts and one in the lining of his leather jacket. Looking at the design on the back, he sighed as he wondered where his former teammates are and if they were also finding "normal" life to be the hardest assignment ever given.

Donning his jacket, he headed out, grabbing a couple of flashlights. he went down to the garage where he uncovered his bike, an old, sleek suzuki brand but it still ran. Kicking over the engine, he raced out of the apartment's garage and headed over to the University to help his employee.

I must be bored. I can remember a time when such trivial things as a missing person search wouldn't even get me to think bout joining in....

He pulled up to the University's parking structure and found an empty visitor's stall. He began wandering the University... looking for this "Quad" that they would be meeting at.

I got a few minutes to kill anyway...

Mindful of his surroundings, Liam slipped into the Star casually. After typing up the accident report, he left a copy on the editor’s desk and escaped to the break room. After grabbing a hot cup of coffee and a donut, he wandered back through the bull pen and downstairs to one of several supply rooms. The room was empty, this particular storage area was not in overly high demand. He stepped quietly to a back corner, deftly locating and opening the concealed crawlspace door. Once inside, he pulled the door shut behind him, and entered a few numbers onto an unlit keypad to his side. The wall in front of him clicked as the bolts disengaged, swinging open on silent hinges. Liam crawled through, securing the door behind himself. It was one of several discreet entrances to the underground domain.

In the dim hallway, he changed from his street clothes into the dark tattered coat and hood, stashing his clothes behind a few loose bricks in a column. Liam pulled the hood low over his eyes. It was time to get to work.

He knew the undercity ruins better than most men knew the intimate contours of their wives. The utterly unlit passages were no hindrance to him. Soundless, he wound his way to his sanctum sanctorum for the nightly ritual. This room was illuminated by the soft yellow glow of underground lighting – the same sodium vapor used in some streetlights, albeit less powerful. Removing a bottle of wine from the wall rack, he poured himself a glass, examining the viscosity. A taste infused him with the pureness of the liquid. He smiled thinly, carrying the glass with him to the first of several holding chambers. None were located anywhere near his sanctum, a necessary precaution in case something went horribly wrong. He sipped at the wine, savoring the taste as he entered the first chamber.

The girl there appeared pale and gaunt. Her eyes were closed, the symbol on her forehead dry for so long it appeared black. Removing a small wooden bowl from beside her chair, he checked the contents. Less full than yesterday. Withdrawing his curiously curved blade, he deepened the cut on her arm and replaced the bowl with a fresh one. If the cut healed during the day, she’d last a bit longer. Otherwise she’d bleed to death. It didn’t really matter, but he preferred to milk as much from them as possible.

Finishing his rounds, he noted that the girl he had checked on this morning had slipped away. Every last drop of her blood had spilled into the bowl beside her chair. Brushing the hair from her face, he’d kissed her forehead and whispered to her. “You’ve served me well.. but there is no rest for you, little one.”

He’d have to deal with her later. For now, he carried the bowls back to his sanctum, his glass of wine long finished. It was an exacting process, mixing their blood with the wine and rebottling the substance, but one crucial to his survival. Already, he could feel the renewed power flowing in his veins from the earlier glass. As soon as the surface streets quieted, he’d take care of the girl. …and acquire her replacement.

The day was drawing to a close. Jack had spent nearly the entire day in and around the cafe. Roughly an hour before his legs screamed for a walk, the odd pair (the attractive woman a few years Jack's senior and the man who was clearly more that that) who had been sitting in the booth behind him had left. They had provided perhaps the most interesting conversation of the day. Apparently Dani wasn't so far off this time. Except about the vampire thing. Probably. Either way, Jack descided it was time to start heading back to the dorm.

He arrived at Quads none too long after that. There where notices stapled to all the trees informing the student body about the search for the supposed missing girl. Most where just text and times. As he walked to the door of his building, he saw another. This one had a picture. The girl was none other than his stairway crush. This gave Jack pause as he reached for the door. He withdrew the hand and checked his watch.

Still an hour before the meeting time.

He sighed and shrugged off a twinge of guilt for not caring to find out earlier, then entered the building and headed for his room to gather some supplies and ready himself for the long night ahead.

Truman had spent the day wandering around the campus, finding various faculty members to talk to. The secretary in the student office had been the most resistant, but ultimately the most forecoming (once he took her aside and explained it was an official police matter, and that the girl's life might be at stake, and obstruction would be a bad idea...) source of information. After an hour, he left the office with photocopies of the missing girl's personal record, contact information, timetable and even a rough list of people she was friends with.

Following up on the timetable, Dale had spent the rest of his day talking to lecturers and tutors, getting to know more about the girl. Bright, talented student, always on time and always met deadlines. Most unlike her to leave without saying anything to someone.

The usual patter about missing students. Teachers got very nervous about criticising missing students, simply because the psycho-teacher cliché had made the academic world edgy about being suspects.

After a full day's investigating, Truman returned to his office and phoned back for Cadence Carlisle, leaving a message of his results and an offer to meet and discuss her half.

NOTICE:
Meeting at the North Quad.
Anita has been reported missing 10 days ago. She was last seen leaving the library late Monday night but wasn't reported missing until wednesday. While the police are searching for her, Simone's family and friends invite you to meet at the quad where we will assist in looking for her.

We will be meeting at 10:00 PM. at the North Quad. bring Flashlights and your cell phones. we will be taking numbers down to keep in contact.

your help would be appreciated.

Search Coordinator Micheal Timor

ooc: Ju, that's not exactly what we discussed. I said the body he's disposing isn't Anita. It's too late now for Anita not to be noticed, given the current investigation SL. No hostility, just clarifying. YOU don't have to be looking for her, however. =) Also, feel free to start your search. I'll just sneak around in the dark.

He had heard the bells chime midnight some time ago. The streets were quieting now.. enough so that he could move about at his leisure. Liam finished another glass of his special wine before placing the new bottles in a rack to chill to room temperature at least. Anita and the others rested silently, supplying him with fresh blood he would collect in the morning.

After several minutes of walking, he found his way back to the dead girl's chamber. Stepping inside, he untied her body from the chair and dressed her in a ceremonial death shroud. She couldn't have been dead for very long.. the stiffness hadn't taken her yet. Carefully hoisting her over one shoulder, he strode off to one of many secret portals between this underground haven and the city above.


The streets were quiet, and already a familiar mist had fallen on the city. The illusion aided by the screen of fog along the ground, he seemed to float through the shadows rather than walk. Before long he'd found the perfect location. Near what was normally a heavily trafficked area, the street was now dark and empty. No late night student parties disturbed the silence here. A streetlight near the corner had burnt out, offering the perfect alter. A toothy grin gleamed from the darkness of the hood as he set about his task.

Before long, she was ready. The ceremonial shroud had once been white and new, but now hung stained and tattered from the girl's lifeless form. Her arms had been stretched along the arch of the streetlight in a crucifix position. There she hung, bound to the metal structure by her wrists. Her stringy hair and the tattered shroud fluttered lightly in the breeze in a ghastly, banshee-like display. Her death homage would bear witness to the fate of those who dared to infest Gaeltach with their foreign blood. Though she was not his first victim by a long shot, she was the first to receive such display. Even in the other cities, he hadn't gone this far. But the time was right. He could feel it in their blood. Grinning to himself again, he melted back into the shadows.

8:00. The clock screamed at Jack for him to head downstairs. He had been ready for the last half hour, save for one detail.

After having gathered up the rest of his things, he sat down at his desk. He sighed, opened the draw and withdrew the heavy revolver from inside and set it on the desk in front of him. He had never fired a gun before. If the truth be known, he didn't even care for them at all. But someone had insisted that he take it with him to school. For about the first 10 minutes or so he just sat there looking at the gun trying to remember who had given it to him, but he came to no answer. He spent the second 10 trying to descided why this gun was the one they gave him. From what little he understood of gun mechanics he knew that this pistol would probably kick like a mule. Not that he would be able to aim anyways, but he was likely to come away with a black eye if he shot it. Then in the final 10 minutes his throughts drifted back to a more relevant topic: the missing girl.

If I wasn't such a coward maybe I could have gotten to know her better. Maybe this whole thing would never have happened.

He sighed and the alarm started screaming. He stood and turned off the alarm, then allowed himself another second of unnerved staring at the weapon on the desk.

I may have messed up before. But I won't now.

He grabbed the gun. tucked it around the small of his back, making sure it was covered by his coat, and headed down to the search party.

Trinity spent her day traveling along the throngs of people, sitting at benches and any place where she could overhear conversations. Traveling as Anita's cousin at first seemed to raise suspicions as Anita had never mentioned a cousin, but eventually, she adapted to the part so well that most people just guessed Anita did not talk much of her extended family.

Finding out from hear-say that Anita was a brilliant student with a good head on her shoulders, who had recently just broke up with a boyfriend, she set out to find this boyfriend. She would need to learn more about him....she wanted to determine if this was a possible homicide. Angry boyfriend? Jealous boyfriend? Insecure boyfriend? She needed to learn more, even if he did not have a motive, he might know of someone who would. Lukas, that was his name, she told herself as she set off to find Lukas.

Unable to find him before nightfall though, Trinity went back to her office and slid behind the chipped old desk, her chair creaking as she sat in it. Opening her notebook, she scrawled down more of her thoughts, frustrations building. An entire day spent, and she learned little to nothing about this Anita. Sometimes it was easier to track the party girls....at least their lives are not masked behind deceit. Goodness would know if Anita led a secret life.....but perhaps Lukas would know more.

Looking at her phone, she realized she had a message. It was Dale, reporting some of the information he had. She called him again, finding that she also had reached his voice mail.

"Lukas. Ex boyfriend. We'll meet him tomorrow," she said quickly in short sentences. If it was one thing she disliked, it was giving out important information over phones....there was no telling who would get it. "Meet me at the same place. Noon," she finished, before hanging up the phone and leaning back in her chair. She laughed at the thought of the opinion Dale was forming about her....she must be one paranoid crazy woman.

She reviewed her notes mentally, trying to piece together the picture, and yet still something was not adding up. The boyfriend was not really a suspect she concluded, but they could make him look like one. At least if someone was following their investigation it would look like they were suspecting a suicide or homicide from a relationship gone bad. That would give Dale some time to delve into the real depths of this mystery.

Clicking off her desk light, she walked out of station and slid herself into the unmarked car. The night was still young, the bars were still open, and people tended to say a lot under the influence.

The day was over for Dale. Obeying his nightly routine, he locked all the doors and windows in his office, sat down in his chair and produced a fresh bottle of whisky that he'd bought on the way back. Cleaning a glass with his sleeve, he poured a double-double and took a gulp of it. He'd repeat the process a few more times until his eyes started to droop, then take a nap on his chair.

Then he'd sleep, most likely to be disturbed once again by the nightmares of his greatest success. Or rather, his greatest scam.

"FLYNN!" a voice carried over the murmur of the crowd. looking towards it, he spotted Amanda as she made her way though towards him.

"Thanks for coming. Here, fill this out, so that mike has your number." Amanda said as she handed Flynn a card. he glanced at it, the usual, name, cell number, group.

"Sorry, no cell" Flynn handed the card back. "I'll just stick with you if you and your friends don't mind."

"sure, they're over there." she motioned towards a small group of people.

"So what's the plan?" Flynn asked as he followed her.

"Guess we'll just break up into smaller groups and search. Mike will coordinate... I guess."

The hair on the back of Flynn's neck bristled... something was in the air... something... different was out there.

The hooded man had run across something interesting on the way to his next destination. At first glance it was nothing more than a group of students gathering for some late night festivities. However the group had a different feel to it. And some were carrying flashlights. Melting into the shadows, he watched in perfect silence as the group splintered into smaller bands that roved out in various directions. He smiled from beneath the hood, recognizing the boy who'd been in the car accident earlier in one of the groups. So, his prey would come to him. It was a slightly different twist to the game, but a greater reward for the challenge. The deep hood low over his eyes, he was certain the power he'd received from the blood of his victims would make him one with the darkness. As his group of interest roamed loosely in the direction of his last offering tied to the streetlamp, he decided to follow at a considerable distance. More than likely, they would not be the ones to find her, but he knew the area they were heading toward well. His opportunity would arise if he was patient enough to see it.

What started as one giant mass of people slowly began to splinter into smaller groups. Jack turned as he saw several of the students in his paticular group started wandering off on their assigned route. He followed not to far behind, but something felt off. He couldnt place his finger on it. On the surface this operation seemed fairly organized for the short time of its planning, but there was definatly something amiss. He shrugged the feeling off and caught up to the rest of the group. After a few minutes of uneasy silence a few of the guys started talking. One began rambing off the story of his day, which began with no less than him being hit by a car and walking away. Jack did what he could, but the uneasy feeling seemed to follow the groups every twist and turn like some attention starved pet. Every time he shrugged it off it returned all the more ominous.

Desciding to take a more proactive defence against the uneasiness, he turned to one of the few non-student searches and attempted to engage in some light conversation. After all, who better to help him keep his cheer than the local puppy merchant.

"You're Mr. Flynn right? Amanda's boss?"

"You're Mr. Flynn right? Amanda's boss?"

"Just Flynn. and yes." he extended his hand for a friendly handshake as he took in the person's scent.

"... I'm sorry, I know you came by the store once or twice, but your name escapes me for the moment."

The air, stirred up by a passing truck filled with people heading to a farther search area, brought back the unusual feeling.

Last time I felt like this was...

His mind drifted back to his last mission with his teammates. The organization was disbanding and all evidence needed to be removed. that means all Altgens were now loose ends. "The Government has never and will never experiment with genetic reconstructions" his team were living proof of that lie... a reason why Stem cell research was prohibited, it was the first step to bonding animal and human DNA to create powerful Frankensteins... and such creatures were hard to control. Vic refused to believe the rumors. Sam, Alex, Jamie and he, Flint back then, however, took precautions. so Vic was the only one the Government actually killed in that trap. which had the unfortunate effect of making it easier for the Government to believe that they had succeeded in removing the final proof of their genetic experiments.

yes, this was the same feeling... something was hunting and either he was the target, or someone in close proximity was...

He grasped the offered hand and gave it a firm shake.

"We never offically met. I'm Jack."

He hadn't expected the shop owner to know his name. Amanda and he where casual friends at best. They had shared a chemestry class together some time ago and resided in the same quad, and occationally caught each other in the cafeteria, but not much beyond that.

Flynn also seemed to be a bit on edge, which Jack took some comfort in at first. Then it just gave more strength to his own feeling of uneasiness, which again began to peak as the group ahead turned down one of the older streets. The street was lined with several of the stone buildings from civilizations past. Jack never really paid them much mind in the day, but at night they where dark, ominous figures to be sure. This fact was compouned by the sparcity of the streetlamps on the cobblestone street. The whole situation gave him the willies, but this was their route. So for the thousandth time that night, he shrugged off the ill-feeling and pressed with the rest.

He could sense unease. The air was electrified with it. Not just from the group he was following, but it was all around. Most of those involved with the search effort were tense in anticipation of what they might - or might not - find. They thickened the air with their concerns. Dean and his group wandered into the poorly lit area the hooded man had discovered earlier. He followed at a distance, his footsteps silent against the cobblestone. By melting into the shadows, he could chance closing the distance between himself and his prey.

Twenty feet ahead, the group would encounter the ruins of an ancient building, one of several sites preserved and still standing amid the modern city. Like cities that had once been under Roman control, the Gaels too preferred to preserve their past than knock it down to make space for more modern structures. The crumbling though still stable ruin before them had once been a monastery of sorts, housing the ancients and Druids in its time. The interior was unlit and contained a maze of hallways and antechambers. Untouched by graffiti, it was largely left alone. A few members of the group seemed to splinter off here, apparantly wanting to search the area. Dean was among them. The hooded man couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. Slipping quietly down a side street, he circled around the group to enter the ruin from another area. Inside, the heavy blackness was his ally as he began moving towards the isolated searchers.

"should we search this place?" Amanda shown her light into an old abandoned structure... Flynn studied it, it looked old, and well preserved yet not marked as a historical site. that seemed like a quaint quirk of these people.

while a historical piece, it was also open, so...

"It does seem possible that she might be trapped inside somewhere..." Flynn looked towards the building but he was concentrating behind him. the presence was no longer there but the feeling of being hunted did not abate.

"what do you guys think... shall we?"

Jack wasn't too keen on going into an ancient dark building without having some idea of what was inside. Which made him realize what Anita would be going through if she had infact been kidnapped. Except it would be unfathomble worse for her. That realization gave him that little push he needed. He looked over his shoulder at Flynn.

"Better safe than sorry."

He hoped he came off more confident than he felt. But either way he pushed to the head of the group and started off down one of the unlit passages.

He heard footsteps in the distance. They were faint, but enough to tell him that the posse had acted predictably and entered the structure. The trick would be isolating the one he was after from the rest of the group. The group could not be more than 20 feet to the west of him, but the maze-like interior made point-to-point measurements completely useless. Spending every evening in the ruins beneath the city had sharpened his night vision, as did the blood of his victims. The darkness here was no great hindrance. Of course it helped that he was familiar with the structure. With the end of the tattered coat fluttering faintly behind, he strode purposefully towards an antechamber the group was likely to pass through, listening for their movement as he went.

Some 1200 miles south and 30000 feet above
Kathrine was bored. The book she had purchased in the airport gift shop had proven a complete snoozer after the first sixty pages. It was a struggle to read through the current adolencent romance; trying to get back to the vampiric gore. Kate could have just tried to sleep, but it was still a bit early really. After all it had just turned night at her destination; going to sleep now wouldn't help her get over her jet lag.

Hours earlier she had found there was no one famous in first class with her, so her eyes wandered disintrestedly over the other passengers. Her eyes noted that a stewardess was walking down the aisle towards her, but stopped to inquire with the man across from her.

"Sir, would you like a refill on the wine?" the girl said a chirpy voice.

"Hmmm?" The man looked up from his work and blinked at the stewardess, then down at the arm rest which had a small empty wine glass on it. "Oh, quite..."

Kate noted the odd accent of the man, it sounded south african. It seemed to suit him. His hair was grey with specks of brown still in it. He wore wire frame glasses that framed his square face, which was perched on an equally angular body. Handsome, in a geeky sort of way. A dentist perhaps, or maybe a physicist.

As the stewardess vanished again, Kate accousted the man. "First time in first class?"

"Him?" He turned his grey eyes to her with a questioning glance. Cool eyes set in a blank face.

"You didn't just ask for a refill, you kept on grasping it after it was empty and then putting it down when you realized it was empty."

"Oh, no I guess I am not used to first class, actually I'm not used to civy flights at all.."

"Civy flights? I thought we were on our way too..."

"Civilian flights, you tend not to use them much when you can just order up a military transport to take you someplace."

"Your military?"

"Ex" Changing tack, he began again "...Er...Hello, my name is Tomas Brack, formally Liutenant Admiral Tomas Brack of the ARN."

Kate blinked for a second. Admiral? "Ah Kate Ralston, DIC Insurance. I must say you don't look like an Admiral."

"Ah flight ops mostly...although I did a few stints at some non-line posts..." As if that explained everything.

"Oh...so why are you headed to..." Kate paused and she leaned towards him slightly, "were not headed into a war zone or something?" In this world wars exploded for any reason, and some for no reason at all.

"Nope, retired recently from the service. Just started my second career, after a thirty or so year delay. Beware the dares of young women especially eighteen year old girlfreinds."

Kate raised a questioning eyebrow, "What she sell you to the press gang?"

"No, I went to school to be a forensic archeologist. I was supposed to do my three years of service and then out. Not to wind up with thirty or so years in the Naval command track."

"So what are you doing on this airplane?"

"Well, my last posting was operation of the NCL in Klatchian Gallaga. Really it was as much a testing lab as anything else and we had all the crime lab duties for Klatchian Gallaga, including civilian needs. Well, a team from Torrhaven University discovered ruins of a relatively unknown civilization along the coast." He picked up the rather large file.

Boredom was creeping back.

" Any way I got involved and when I processed out I joined the research team. Well there is a theory about that the ruins were built in the fourteenth century by a galeic colony."

"So..your looking for?"

"We have a good deal of preserved midocondrial DNA samples. If we can match them to midocondrial DNA samples from the source city then...bingo, we find out where our lost civilization of colonists came from."

"This seems like a shot in the dark then..."

"We have a headstone that indicates he had been born in this city. So it is as good a chance as anywhere." The conversation died but Tom restarted it. "So what puts you on this flight.

"Buisness, I am here to protect DIC Insurance from insurance fraud." She considered the details "Someone maybe using a several million dollar hostage clause in their life insurance policy"

"How did you defraud on that?"

"Well, the insured is a college coed who recently vanished without a trace. They haven't found a body and they have not received a ransom letter. Which is causing some concern at the main office. It might be she has just run off with some boy and is planning on using us to fund their love nest."

"Why does the girl have such a hefty ransom insurance?"

"The girl's grandfather is from Port Olympus...The arms trade specifically. He took out a super premium life insurance policy on her including a seven million dollar kidnapping rider."

"So you think she is just hiding and planning a fake a kidnapping to collect on the money?"

"No, but I am to make sure that she not doing so...you have no idea what ideas people come up with to defraud insurance firms these days."

"Another reason I am planning on dealing with only dead people and their DNA...lack of bad judgement...or any judgement at all.."

"Would it be bad judgement to take me out to dinner sometime?" No ring on any fingers, fair game ay Kate?

"Well...that sounds like a good call actually...one I would rather enjoy..."

staying together would be better, but if I'm the target, if word got out that I'm still around...

Flynn slowed his walk. when the group divided into smaller search parties, he hung back while Amanda and her friend continued on. When they turned the corner, he turned off his light and made his way back to the street.

someone's playing games with me, and I intend to find out who.

backtracking he came across an unusual scent. it smelled like a group of people but moved like one. and it was in the area where the 'hunted' feeling was strongest. Slowly he tracked the scent. it was getting cold fast, and he was no bloodhound, so he upped his pace to a jog...

and stopped when he came to the same ancient ruins the others just entered... from the other side.

oh... shit.

Drawing the knife from the lining of his jacket, Flynn cautiously entered the ruins, knowing he may be walking into an ambush by an unknown number of persons.

The hooded man was patient. He waited calmly in the darkness, sensing more than hearing the small group approach. There were fewer people in this small group than he had observed outside, confirming a decision to split up to cover more ground. His right hand slid to his waist, gingerly fingering the edge of his curved blade. The cold steel had a thirst, as he did, and yearned to taste blood. The walls of this antechamber were pock marked by crevices, their original purpose lost now in the mists of time. He had squeezed into one of them to be out of sight. While the darkness completely concealed him, it was foolish to think they had no flashlights with them. In the crevice, he would be shielded from random arcs of the light. With his foot he located a small loose rock. It would make a decent lure. After picking it up, he hurled it down a random hallway, listening with satisfaction as it bounced and clattered to a stop. That ought to be enough to draw some curiosity.

There was definatly something wrong here. Jack knew it deep down. The uneasiness he had felt outside the building was a fond memory compared to palpable danger that he could taste in the air. The others in the group seemed fairly unaware of it though, which didn't help the matter. Along the main passage there had been a few openings that led off in different directions. The group has slit off into a pair of groups; the one he found himself in was the one with Amanda and her friends. Flynn had dissapear awhile ago, so Jack assumed that he was with the other group. Along the winding halls the rest of the group had overtaken him as his initial stint of confidence wore off. The flashlights reflected off of airborn dust making it so the beams could be seen all the way to their source. Suddenly an clattering noise came from the left. All the beams turned immediatly to the noise and stopped on a small side-passage, and Jack's hand reached instictively to the small of his back for the revolver, which suprised him for a moment.

"Probably just a rat" one of the guys said, but he failed to convince anyone.

The group looked around at each other for a moment then started down the hallway. Jack released his hold on the cannon and brought of the rear.

Bouncing arcs of light barely reached the edge of the room mere minutes after Liam had cast the first stone. The search party had advanced farther than expected, but not so far as to compromise his plans. He could see the beams strengthen from his concealed vantage point as the students drew closer to the room. The stink of fear clung to the air as thickly as the particles of old dust and limestone. One by one, the students entered the antechamber, reluctant to leave the safety of the group. This brought a smile of amusement to Liam's face. There were only a handful of students, which would make this somewhat easier. Somewhere across the room, a rat squeaked at the unexpected intrusion. Silently, he fingered and withdrew the curved blade sheathed at his waist, careful to shield it from any stray arcs of light.

A rat squeaked and scampered across one of the flashlight beams. The guy from before. forced a laugh through his obvious nervousness.

"See? I told ya'll it was a rat."

"Oh shut up, Dean you had no idea," one of the girls said as she pushed him playfully into one of the walls.

"Did so," he responded as he shoved her back. "Anywho, I've had just about enough of these ruins. Let's see if we can't find some way out of here."

Jack had no objectionsto that plan. The rest of the group started off across the room and towards the opposite hallway. Jack tried to find the rat again and just caught sight of the little pink tail as it disappeared into one of the cracks in the ancient walls. Jack released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding and started after the others.

Dean was closer than he realized to Liam's hiding place. The girl had nearly shoved him into the crevice, in fact. It would have been the perfect time to grab him, if only he had less attention. As the group disappeared back into a passageway, a coldly familiar sound percolated the old ruins faintly. It was a shrill, terror-stricken scream. One of the other groups had found his latest victim on her lamp post.

(ooc: apologies to the daytime investigative crew...)

As Flynn entered the ruins, a piercing scream echoed off of the buildings. pressing himself against the wall, after a moment, he pondered on investigating the scream or their 'shadow'...

the scent was getting cold... the scream was some distance off...

slowly he crept forward, the stone work muffling his already soft footfalls as he followed the fading trail.

Everyone in the mini-search party jumped as the scream pierced the musty air in the ancient building, Jack included. The jumping was followed by running, which lead to panicing, which lead to getting lost, which lead to more panicing. After about 10 minutes of blindly rushing about through the darkness after the rest of his group, Jack zigged when he should have zagged and found himself alone in a passage. He realized this and spun around to try catch the group but they had already ducked down another passage and their footsteps where rapidly disappearing. Jack paused and leaned against a wall to catch his breath.

"What the hell guys?"

He knew they couldn't hear him, but it made him feel better. After a moment he started off in the direction he hoped would lead out. The rest of the group would be fine without him. Or so he hoped.

(ooc: anyone else think we should wrap this night up and let the 'day-shift' get back into the mix?)

(ooc: anyone else think we should wrap this night up and let the 'day-shift' get back into the mix?)
(ooC: I would say Gael should RP if she got her next victim or not... because it might prove an interesting situation for me...

besides, we could say it's close enough to morning for the dayshift to get in on the action...)

Airport 4:00 am

The flight had landed, the passengers deboarded and worked their way through customs before heading out and picking up transportation to hotels.

Thomas Brack and Kathrine found themselves waiting at the taxi stand. Brack was standing there with a young man who was trying to manage the four or five peices of equipment cases on a airport cart.

Kathrine turned, "So Admiral...where do former civil servants spend the night?"

"Ah a hotel near the university actually...Ah Phillips where are we staying."

Phillips, who was obviously Brack's assistant mumbled something about University Square or Plaza.

The Admiral chuclked, "You know flag lieutenants are just as bad. I just got the best hotel in town, a suite actually."

"Oh?" Kathrine seemed intrigued "I thought they didn't pay civil servants much these days."

"Admirals have a very very nice retirement package. I guess to keep us from leading revolutions or such to increase our stipend I suppose. So where are you staying."

"Some local version of a Merriot I think. Whatever corporate decided was the package."

"If your trying to make me feel sorry for you, forget it. I've spent nights on a tin can during typhoons. A mid-level hotel bed would sound like God given luxury at those nights."

Kathrine shook her head, "God, I have to be up in four hours. I need to go talk to some detective or other about this vanished girl."

"Well, I will let you cut infront of me then. After all I have a one o'clock appointment at the University to discuss my project with the archeology department."