|
|
Post by Sapphicat on Sept 9, 2006 4:24:10 GMT
Luke holds up the briefcase to show he indeed has it. "Got it."
|
|
|
|
Post by Storyteller on Sept 11, 2006 10:25:28 GMT
A flash of white, that must be a grin, and the door closes. The chain falls back, and the door opens again.
You step through, and, following your 'contact', sit down, placing the briefcase on the desk.
"Excellent. I've tken the liberty of compiling what i we have on record that you needed, but i've also gone above and beyond our little bargin, and found out some more up-to-date information."
He opens a drawer, and removes a brown manilla folder, which he begins to fan himself with.
"So then, let's exchange."
|
|
|
|
Post by Sapphicat on Sept 11, 2006 15:28:23 GMT
He nods and, still nervous, presents the case.
|
|
|
|
Post by Storyteller on Sept 11, 2006 18:42:22 GMT
He takes the case from you, across the desk, and puts it down by his legs.
"Excellent, well done. Here is the information, as agreed."
He pushes the folder across the desk to you, and you take it eagerly.
"May it serve you well, whatever dark purpose you require it for."
A wicked grin shines forth again.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sapphicat on Sept 12, 2006 4:36:17 GMT
"Uh, thanks..." He slips open the envelope and, inspired by the grin, skims through the contents before leaving. Just to be sure. A thorough examination could come once he was safely away.
|
|
|
|
Post by Storyteller on Sept 14, 2006 20:06:44 GMT
Skimming through, you almost break into a grin. The folder contains shipping receits, listing the person who 'recieved' the package, apparantly containing your target, and the invoice indicating where it went after that. A few more documents, meaningless to you at a glance, and what appears to be information, background and current, about your target.
You shove the papers back in the folder, and place in on your lap.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sapphicat on Sept 15, 2006 4:35:08 GMT
"Guess that's it, then," Luke says, worried that cabbie wasn't going to wait that long. He stands to leave. "Nice doing business with you."
|
|
|
|
Post by Storyteller on Sept 15, 2006 22:00:19 GMT
No reply. Just a nod.
Ah well, at least you can finally get out of here for good.
Back in the cab, skimming once again through the folder, this time in more detail, you pick up a few more things, though you really need to examine it fully. Firstly, you have the address, a downtown block of apartments, where Nikolai was originally 'sent', when first arriving in America. Second, and much more importantly, one of the pages mentions that Nikolai has changed his name since leaving Romania, which would explain why it's been so hard to track anything up-to-date and concrete down on him. You've already got a lot to go on.
The cab finally drops you at the arranged point, and you make your way back to your haven, wishing you could claim travel expenses for all these fares.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sapphicat on Sept 16, 2006 5:15:16 GMT
Once back in his haven Luke almost moves to call Cornelius... but, no, not yet. That'll have to wait until he's got everything he needs or the trail runs cold, whichever.
He slides the papers out and tosses the folder on to the sad little cot that functions as a bed. The executive desk chair at the computer is the only pretense of comfort in the place and, like everything else, it wasn't easy getting it down there. He settles into it to see what he can find online, working off the new information.
|
|
|
|
Post by Storyteller on Sept 17, 2006 21:40:40 GMT
2 hours later, you're sitting in your chair, holding in your hand a printout, with some gathered information. First, if you're reading between the lines of the relevent online source correctly (which sure as hell isn't guarenteed; it's hard enough finding kindred information online anyway), you have a the name of a businessman, linked with organised crime in the city, who may have employed Wic at some point. You've also printed a few other minor details, but nothing that should prove directly relevant.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sapphicat on Sept 18, 2006 3:33:03 GMT
Luke draws in a superfluous breath just for the sake of exhaling it in a sigh. He orders the information as best he can, then he calls Cornelius.
|
|
|
|
Post by Storyteller on Sept 19, 2006 21:52:28 GMT
Ring
You're more than half expecting a terse, grouchy response from Cornelius, treating you as irrelevant, as he often does, so you're taken aback when he answers.
"Luke! I take it that you have good news to report?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Sapphicat on Sept 19, 2006 23:22:30 GMT
"Looks like it," he says, never sure what counts as good or sufficient with such things. "You want it over the phone, or in person...?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Storyteller on Sept 20, 2006 22:28:17 GMT
"Give me the gist over the phone, if you will. No details, mind, I just need to know whether what you've got is worth coming out for. What sort of infomation are we talkin?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Sapphicat on Sept 21, 2006 4:26:24 GMT
"Okay, well..." After rifling through the pages again, Luke sums up what he's found as best he can.
|
|
