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Post by Taylor "Wings" Jon on Jun 20, 2010 16:58:25 GMT -5
Taylor Jon pushed her hair out of her face as she hunched over paperwork. After a failed attempt to capture a familiar runner, she had five or six forms to fill out for her failure.
She got out of her chair and stretched her arms. Her walk was a bit uneven, a physical manifestation of her exhaustion. She had been pulling double shift way to often to make up for the short hand of officers.
Taylor walked into the break room and over to the coffee machine, dreading the experience of the bitter black water. She jumped and sat on the counter, poured herself a cup and sipped it carefully, hoping the caffeine would make her feel better.
Runners had been overwhelming lately and that was the only thing on her mind. Usually, the police had a firm grip on the city, but now...
Taylor tapped her tattoo on her wrist, sipped her coffee, and she didnt even notice another person walk into the break room until they spoke to her...
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Post by Jean-Claude "Jack" Faria on Jun 20, 2010 17:37:35 GMT -5
A distinctive yet just as equally eclectic voice broke the monotonous happenings of the North Side Police Station at Taylor's left flank, a relatively tall man in an official-looking suit casting a distorted shadow over the coffee machine. His hands were dug into the pockets of his heavy overcoat, his head tilted slightly to the right, as if choking on the right words to vocalize.
"I'm looking for Captain Trey Aaron," he said, slightly squinting as his eyes focused in on hers. "Is he here?"
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Post by Taylor "Wings" Jon on Jun 20, 2010 17:44:13 GMT -5
Taylor turned, a bit surprised, looking at the man who came up to her. She hated to think what she looked like right now, with bloodshot eyes from the lack of sleep and her blue jeans and her white PD shirt a bit wrinkled in comparison to the man wearing the nice suit.
She got off the counter and set down her cup. "No, sorry, he is on leave right now. I'm First Lieutenant Taylor Jon. Can I help you?"
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Post by Jean-Claude "Jack" Faria on Jun 20, 2010 18:07:44 GMT -5
"I see," the man in the suit looked down to his shoes, then glanced toward the wall before reeling back to meet the Lieutenant eye-to-eye. "Oh, Agent Jack Faria, FBI." The man in the suit reached into his coat, revealing a laminated badge and ID that read: DEPARTMENT OF INVESTIGATION
FBI
AGENT Jean-Claude Faria The badge included a glazed over photo of the same man, posed uncomfortably and stiffly at the right of the bold 'FBI' print. Agent Faria tucked away the badge and flattened the creases on his coat, nodding in one affirmative bob of his head. "Well, if I can't speak to Captain Aaron, I assume you're the second-in-command here?" |
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Post by Taylor "Wings" Jon on Jun 20, 2010 18:22:08 GMT -5
Taylor tapped her wrist, outlining the tattooed doves. She exhaled as he showed her his badge. Aarons had told her that a member of the Bureau was coming, but she never expected it to be so soon after the report had been filed.
"Yes, that is correct," She told him, nodding. She took her cup, took one more large gulp, then placed the cup in the sink. "Let's go into my office." She lead the Agent Faria out of the break room and back into the small room that was her office.
She silently wished that it had been bigger.
Taylor motioned for him to sit down, and she closed the door. When she got back to her rather disheveled desk, she swept her papers into a neat pile, clearing a nice space on the desk.
She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and sat behind the desk, folding her hands. "I would first like you welcome you to the Department, and then apologize for the current mess."
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Post by Jean-Claude "Jack" Faria on Jun 20, 2010 19:23:16 GMT -5
"It's an honor, ma'am," said Jack, standing at Taylor's forward. "That's perfectly alright. I see the Runner situation hasn't been too bright around here."
God dammit, why the hell would you even think of saying that? Jack inwardly scolded himself. You're not supposed to talk low about the local Departments, idiot!
The Bureau agent cleared his throat unnecessarily and continued. "I suppose I've been sent here to stop it. My SAIC says you'll set me up with a new identity and enough credentials to get me in."
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Post by Taylor "Wings" Jon on Jun 20, 2010 19:36:41 GMT -5
"I must say that it is extremely lucky to have you here, we have been extremely short staffed lately, that caused this whole mess to escalate," She pulled out a chart. "We do have papers coming in here for you,we will have your information and creds tomorrow. For tonight, you can stay here at the station until we get that, if it is okay with you..."
((sorry for the mistake, i'll work on it))
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Post by Jean-Claude "Jack" Faria on Jun 20, 2010 21:32:43 GMT -5
"Right. The Runners are versatile operators, if you're willing to give them that."
Jack felt his gaze involuntarily drift toward the window, the bright afternoon sun casting a hazy glare over the whitewashed skyscrapers of New Eden. The thriving metropolis below pulsing with the hustle and bustle of any urbanized utopian paradise.
He remembered skimming through the file on the Runner situation in New Eden City, half-comatose in his home office as Marie wordlessly berated him for bringing his work home again. It wasn't the worst thing he had done. The summary by itself had perplexed him, even before he got to the raw details of the situation. Most things involving Runners did; likely the reason why they called him in again.
The Runners in this city had divided up into two seperate factions, two bandit gangs that staked a claim on two boroughs, maintaining a lax but ever-present rivalry with each other as they worked against the local authorities to fuel a social insurrection that didn't seem to be willing to stop. No negotiations with these people - no compromises. They would be ten times more loyal to the cause than the Runners in LA, that was for sure. The inevitability stung - these were the ones who started it, and they would go against any insurmountable odds to be the ones who finished it.
Jack was torn out of his reverie as Lieutenant Jon finshed her briefing. "That's fine, that's perfectly fine. Whatever works, ma'am."
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Post by Taylor "Wings" Jon on Jun 20, 2010 21:44:58 GMT -5
"Great, I'll get a bed set up for you in the back rooms," She picked up her phone on the desk and called one of the assistants, arranging the bed to be made. She got up and tapped her tattoo, again, a nervous habit. She pulled out a large stack of files, each with a long number etched into the covers. "This is what we got on the runners we have encountered. Even though we have had many failures in this department when it came to runners, every encounter we were able to pick up information. This should get you caught up, if you are interested."
She picked up two on the top, one lined with green, the other with red. "These are the leaders," She opened the up and laid them down, facing the FBI Agent.
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Post by Jean-Claude "Jack" Faria on Jun 20, 2010 22:03:30 GMT -5
"That won't be necessary, ma'am," Jack hastily replied, raising a hand in dismissal. "I don't think I'll be needing all the acommodations. Just a little office space will do."
I think Old Father Insomnia will keep the Sandman away tonight, he thought, wary of the bottle of perscription sleep medication in the breast pocket of his shirt. Just like every other night . . .
The seasoned agent livened up at the appearance of the two files, eagerly snatching them up from Taylor's desk. The more information on his adversaries . . . and future allies, the better.
"Thanks for the help, Lieutenant." Jack said with a bow of his head, tucking the folders underneath his arm and turning to head out the office door.
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Post by Taylor "Wings" Jon on Jun 20, 2010 22:30:53 GMT -5
"Wait, Agent Faria!" Taylor stepped up, stopping him quick. "Just a warning, watch out for the woman in green. She's ruthless... and if you need anything, I'm going to be here all night,"
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Post by Taylor "Wings" Jon on Jun 21, 2010 19:34:47 GMT -5
Taylor watched as the agent nodded. She exhaled deeply and ran her fingers through her hair. It hadnt even been an hour, and the effects of the coffee had begun to wear off. Taylor got up and rushed out of her office and into the break room yet again. Her fingers shook as she grasped the cup and poured the liquid into it.
Just another day, I'm not sure how many of these I can take, She sipped and slightly cringed from the bitter coffee. She just needed time off, but that was bound not to happen for some time, seeing the station was in such disarray. But she needed something to get her mind off of the mess that was her job...
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Post by Jean-Claude "Jack" Faria on Jun 21, 2010 22:05:52 GMT -5
"Woman in green, ruthless, got it." By the time the reply met Taylor's ears, Jack was long gone, files in hand and determination in his eyes. The assistant that the Lieutanant had called up lead the FBI Agent to an out-of-the-way office at the far corner of the station, a musty storage room that had likely seen years of misuse. A gutted filing cabinet rested at at the corner of the claustrophobic office, a work desk conjoined to it by dust and cobwebs. Jack pulled a wheeled plush chair out from underneath the desk, settling down in it awkwardly as it creaked and moaned. Pulling in, he swabbed a finger through the thick dust accumulated over the face of the old desk, wiping the material off on his coat setting the two files down before him. Jack seemed to inch out of the overcoat with a slither, leaving it draped across the chair's back. He loosened his tie, inhaling a probably unheathy amount of gritty dander before opening the first file, labelled with a green line and the New Eden Police Department classification seal. Jack delicately unfolded the manilla file and began reading. NEPD
WANTED FUGITIVE
UNLAWFUL FLIGHT TO AVOID PROSECUTION, ASSAULT AND BATTERY WITH A DEADLY WEAPON, ILLICIT TRANSPORT OF INFORMATION
ESME HALE ALIAS(ES): Shorts AGE: 21 HEIGHT: 5'8" - 6'0" WEIGHT: 120-130 BUILD: Slender HAIR: Blonde EYES: Green SCARS AND MARKS: Three ringed tattoos around left upper arm NOTES: Hale is known to be the leader of a notable Runner gang, primarily located on the West Side borough of New Eden City. Hale may be in the possession of numerous unlicensed and/or illegal weapons and firearms, though CPF and NEPD forces have failed to confirm or confiscate these items. Hale may also have access to illicit or illegal controlled substances and/or illegally imported materials. Hale is considered armed and extremely dangerous, and should be approached with extreme caution. Jack couldn't help but feel taken aback by this 'Shorts' character. She had become one of the most ruthless, powerful, and influential Runners in the entire city - simply because of the boredom of upper-class lifestyle. The record was practically a mile high, and with good reason. If he was going to win her trust (what was quickly seeming to be an impossible feat), he'd have impress her . . . a major felony just waiting to happen. He set the file to the side, still open, and took up the next one, the red lined folder on the other Runner ring leader. NEPD
WANTED FUGITIVE
UNLAWFUL FLIGHT TO AVOID PROSECUTION, ASSAULT AND BATTERY WITH A DEADLY WEAPON, ILLICIT TRANSPORT OF INFORMATION
ARTEMIS JACOBS ALIAS(ES): Spirit AGE: 17 HEIGHT: 5'5" - 5'10" WEIGHT: 115 - 125 BUILD: Athletic HAIR: Brown EYES: Grey SCARS AND MARKS: One cross tattoo on left shoulder blade NOTES: Jacobs became a transcient after the divorce of her parents, and has been questioned by NEPD and CPF officers for many cases of disturbance of the peace and loitering, but never aquitted. Jacobs is well known to be the leader of an organized gang of Runners in the East Side borough, suspected of trafficking illegal arms, controlled substances, and other illicit materials. Her status remains unknown at this time, but she is known to be armed and dangerous. Approach with extreme disgression. Jack found 'Spirit's file to be meager at best; she was the kind of Runner he was familiar with . . . a kind that he met in Los Angeles from what felt like decades ago . . . but nevertheless, her profession exceeded her personality, and she needed to be stopped in the act before innocent civilians became involved. Agent Faria leaned back and sighed audibly. This case was going to be harder than he anticipated . . . |
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