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Post by Mikey on Apr 10, 2011 23:40:18 GMT -5
Mike took Kit’s hand in the shake, griping firmly and shaking a few times before letting go.
“Michael Thomas Franks. On any given day folks call me a cantankerous old prick.” He said. “Or Mike.” He added nonchalantly. He took a look at his watch for a moment and then looked back to Kit.
“You know, shift change is in thirty. I was planning on seeing if the next group was dumber than the last. You game?” He asked Kit. Seemed like the best course to take. If it didn’t work, they weren’t out anything. They’d just have to wait for the boss to come around. If it did work, problem solved. Taking a drag off of his cigarette and dropping it into his near empty beer bottle. Kit’s answer would determine if he ordered another one or not.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 12, 2011 6:27:33 GMT -5
Wheezing out a single laughing before speaking, "How long you been watchin' these guys to know shift change, man?" Kit shook his head while grinning, it was not the sort of detail he himself picked up on; thankfully his job didn't ask him to stakeout too often, the lesser folk took care of that, "Yeah-no, the next pair'll have my boss' orders forwarded to'em. It was only ever a matter of waiting."
Running a hand down his face, trying to wipe the somber fatigue out of his eyes. The flight in had felt strangely claustrophobic and kept Kit awake through the night, he could feel his muscles protesting at his awake state. Hard heals marked the return of the bartender, "'Ey-" Kit got his attention while finishing his glass, "'Nother round, brother," he asked, Glancing at Mike, "Make it two," pushing his own bill across the bench, "My shout this time,"
It only seemed reasonable for a return in information, "What've you learnt so far, Mike? I only just got in town myself, redirected off another case. Waiting on a briefing package for it," the sniper pursed his lips, spinning his smartphone on the counter top, "Would'a rathered this mess were made down in Reno," he looked out to the abandoned pokies and croupier tables again, saddened by the lack of life.
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Post by Mikey on Apr 12, 2011 7:35:04 GMT -5
"Would'a rathered this mess were made down in Reno." Kit said, and Mike smirked.
“Ya. Bad guys always pick the places with the most fun.” He said. He pulled out his own phone and started pressing a few buttons on it.
“I been here a day, two days, give er’ take. The first night is a bit of a blur…” He said, raising his beer as an explanation before taking a swig. He picked up his cigarette, that he had balanced on the top of the empty beer bottle, and flicked the ash onto a napkin that was serving to catch the cold remnants of his second bad habit.
“Bout as much as a briefing as I can give ya.” He said, pressing play on a video and sliding the phone to Kit.
“Las Vegas! The city of sin!” A voice cried out, its owner a man in a BDU and balaclava. He continued the speech that included the execution of the recent president of the USA, and ended on an ominous note to the people of the city.
“That begat an assault on the joint by an enemy of unknown origin with highly advanced equipment and weapons, and the local PMC groups put em down.” He said. “Least, that’s what the news stations are putting out. When you do this as long as I have, you learn to look for anything contrary to the local news. But I’m betting you’ve learned that by now.” He said. “I’m getting eyewitness statements of other people involved, but their a bit… Off the wall.” Mike said. Something in his tone of voice indicated that he didn’t disbelieve anything that was told to him. Not quite yet, anyway.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 12, 2011 9:12:54 GMT -5
Kit hadn't heard a peep over the President's assassination. Everywhere else in the world had their own problems, who knew what would happen when this finally bled out to the corners of the globe. The date on the recording placed things back by a couple of weeks; it was probably common knowledge to everyone in the States by now. Strangely enough, Kit didn't feel moved by the President's death. Just went to show how much of a patriot he was. If a little girl had been taken hostage his mood would have changed; thankfully they were only out to set an example.
Kit handed the phone back after the recording finished, getting to grips with the media from what Mike could tell him. The big picture, most likely glorified a little, that sort of thing was always rushed out. If the media ever picked finer details, Kit would be out of the job.
"Off the wall?" he repeated what Mike said. Witnesses had a problematic habit of subconsciously skewing facts; hyper-reality can do that to someone involved with pop culture. Kit once asked a man to detail a face match for a suspect; the resulting image wound up looking like a Hollywood celebrity. With what Kit had seen himself during days like these, sometimes the more obscene things fitted the crime perfectly, "How far off are we talking, exactly?"
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Post by Mikey on Apr 14, 2011 3:52:18 GMT -5
"How far off are we talking, exactly?" Kit asked, and Mike made a face that said ‘ok, you asked for it.’ Mike pulled out a small notepad, as he preferred to take notes the old fashioned way. Usually, he burned the old pads after they were committed to official reports.
“Got someone who says they saw a blonde gal get shot with some kind of energy weapon, up into a third story window. Shortly after, she hoped back down, no worse for the wear.” He said, stopping and looking at Kit over the pad. He took a drink from his bottle, and shrugged.
“I dunno if these guys put something in the water or not, but I’m getting this same story from at least three people. Later on, got her traveling with two males. One, average height, weight, and build. Got the Joker treatment sometime in his life, apparently.” He said, running a pinky from the corner of his mouth and back to his ear.
“Second male, seven to eight feet tall. Covered in metal.” He said. “Some ‘er thinking it’s the same guy who went old school on one of the attackers. Seven inch blade in the neck.” Franks ended.
“I warned ya…” He said, taking a drag from his cigarette and depositing it into the bottle before lighting up another.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 16, 2011 8:33:43 GMT -5
"Hah, well that sure is somethin'. Glad they were on our side for the fight," Kit had left that wide open for debate, whether the people detailed in the eye witness reports were actually friendly wasn't solidified just because they versed the people terrorizing Vegas. Although he couldn't help agreeing how it sounded, "Way of the wall, to the stars even."
Rubbing his chin, "Course. Unless we found the three and got their side of the story," it was a pretty hollow suggestion, but one of a kind the sniper liked to ride. Mike had just detailed suspects in a case. A part of Kit wished they had been asked not to leave town any time soon. Such a motley crew.
"We still have some time before shift switch out. I was thinking over getting a good aerial view of the hole before going in ground zero," Kit took a large swig of what remained in his glass, "Roof of the hotel'd fit that criteria nicely," the Interpol agent nudged his head toward the lobby to insist, giving a thumbs up to the bartender for his handiwork.
Traveling upwards in the elevator looked out over canals of the Venetian Resort, mucky with debris; probably fallout of the fight between sides and incoming fire from the Mirage casino just over the Boulevard. People were hard at work cleaning up the mess.
Stale, dry desert air hit Kit's olfactory as the doors opened, slipping his shades on. He hadn't expected to find people on the roof, still clearing a huge amount of equipment left over. Likely the munitions boxes he had seen back in the lobby. A man in simple fatigues approached him, put to ease after taking a decent look at his badge.
"There ya have it. That is - certainly - a hole," Kit had climbed to an elevated point giving the best view of the departed convention centre, a dozen or so cranes pulled demolished fragments about the place, "What a mess. It's like an industrial sized soup bowl," he pulled out his phone. The gadget still had a reasonable amount of optical zoom before getting hazy. Scanning over the site gave a closer view of things to look at.
"Huh," he paused his pan, zooming in fully, "What do ya make of that?" he focused on a rather conspicuous shell sitting high on a mound of rubble, yet to be touched by the cranes. It looked like the cockpit of a jet plane had dropped out of the sky, yet on better inspection it was clear the thing were meant to be bipedal; albeit missing limbs, "Everything seems sort of focused t'ward the centre," Kit commented, looking over his phone at the big picture.
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Post by Mikey on Apr 17, 2011 4:02:05 GMT -5
Following the agent up to the roof, Franks took a look over the side with Kit and let out a low whistle upon seeing the crater.
"There ya have it. That is - certainly - a hole.” Kit said.
“I think experts call it a big f**king hole.” Mike added. He pulled out his phone like Kit did, using it to get a better look. He too saw the remnants of the mech, saw the center of the crater and how it seemed to make a perfect half sphere.
“What do I think? I’m wondering how that thing lost its limbs, and how it got up there.” He said. “Doesn’t look like an explosion…” He said.
“If a bomb that big went off, why is the building next to it still standing? Why aint the streets caved in? Sure, we got a bit of damage, but a conventional bomb that big would have leveled the whole block.” He said. Force Recon training still had its uses in an investigative field.
“I’m itchin’ to get a close up.” He said, zooming in as much as he could. He still couldn’t see any fine details.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 17, 2011 11:57:58 GMT -5
Kit perked up, rather than looking inside the hole he observed the buildings around it, "You make a good point, Mike," he squinted in case his eyes deceived him, "I mean look, if there had been an explosion of any degree then the windows of adjacent buildings would have certainly been shattered."
They were onto something. Whatever made the landmark hadn't been explosive in nature. However it had opened up more avenues of question than it had closed, "Some bodies're down there too," Kit made an open assessment, taking a snap shot of several mangled figures sprawled about in one area, "Doesn't look biological either. You'd need to be a sore idiot to invest in whatever them folks kept there," he scratched the back of his head in confusion.
"Ah- there goes tweedledee and tweedledumbass," Kit remarked, spotting the two MPs heading back towards HQ along the perimetre fence. He leaned out to see their replacements at the ground zero entrance gate, "Shift's in. I'm feelin' lucky," he mused with a smile. It was Las Vegas after all.
On their descent back to ground floor Kit queued up the images he took, sending them out to a fellow Interpol agent. Brinnigan wouldn't be that much farther out, inbound from Tokyo. He knew she would appreciate being kept up to speed with what he was seeing.
"Take two," he whispered his humor to Mike as they approached the new pair of guards, "G'dafternoon fellas," holding his badge out for them to see, "Kit South, Interpol. This here's my partner, Mike Franks," he didn't usually like speaking for others out of respect, but at this rate it would get them inside quicker.
After one of the MPs gave the card a decent look he nodded, stepping aside.
"You're cleared for entrance. Watch your step, we're yet to establish a personnel path around the rubble."
"Thank you. Will do," Kit tipped an invisible hat to the man before stepping through the threshold, "Alrighty," he clapped his hands, rubbing them together feverishly, "It's about time I got my suit dirty. Love the smell of crap for afternoon tea," with a little deliberation between himself and Mike they were able to find a way into the sinkhole skidding down a steep slope.
"Hoo-ey" dusting his palms on his trousers, "I think I swallowed something on the way down," in retrospect to their entrance the guy sort of wished they had waited until a user friendly form of disembarking had been made, "I think a Power Rangers convention was goin' on at the time," he kicked a red helmet out of his path while heading further inward.
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Post by Mikey on Apr 20, 2011 3:15:38 GMT -5
Getting through the second set of guards had proved to be no problem. Mike was thankful for that. Good thing Kit was here. He may have never gotten a look inside by himself.
Staying quiet and simply nodding to the men as he passed, he took a look at the inside of the building. He knew this was coming, the treacherous way down, but damn if he didn’t hate it.
“Sum b*tch.” He said, bending down to stretch out his back when they were at the bottom. If he’d have been on his own, he would have had to go back and make one of the MP’s help him out. Maybe go out and get a rope and go down that way.
He looked at the object Kit kicked across the room, and then to the Interpol agent himself.
“The hell are power rangers?” He asked. Shrugging it off, he began to take a look around. Beginning with the hole. But he was trying to confirm his earlier thoughts. That it hadn’t been a normal bomb that had made the hole. And right now, it was hard to tell with the rubble from the ceiling that had collapsed.
“The floor seem smooth to you?” He asked, kicking a pile of crumbled rock out of the way and looking at the smooth bottom. They were going down an incline, and he had a feeling it would round out at the bottom before starting up oppositely. But they had already established that it wasn’t a real bomb. It was like looking for proof of someone killing someone else when you had it on video. Redundant at best.
“You want the bodies or the cockpit?” He asked. Both were things of interest. Mainly, what had ripped both of them apart.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 28, 2011 12:21:25 GMT -5
"I'll take the bodies," Kit responded, "Always better with the bodies," adding on top as he clambered over junk and jagged rock.
It might have seemed as if Kit immediately abolished any thought toward what Mike had pointed out; the crater floor was certainly smooth. Not silky smooth of course, more of a fastened concrete; but definitely not the sort of fine surface you got when a god damn bomb went off. He tested other spots for smooth surfaces finding it all equally to be the same, "What kind of friggen' bomb doesn't shatter windows with a blast, smooths out the crater, and perfectly takes out a building in the process?"
A bastard bomb maybe. The sort to confuse the sh*t out of an Interpol agent when it came to solving a case. Either way, somehow a trio of avengers wound up not being completely vaporized by it, "Hello fellas," Kit beamed while eagerly climbing over tin and plaster to meet the dead bodies, "You guys looked like you're on the wrong side of the conflict," commenting on their unmarked fatigues, as if they were still alive.
"No tags. No one to care for ya," looking around the collars showed none of the silver plates existed, they were nobodies, "Pretty high tech stuff they had!" Kit shouted out for Mike, "Seriously. Everything looks Military grade to some varying degree! Didn't even think the 417 had made it outta manufacturing after the first biohazard screwed up economy!" he turned the derelict rifle over in his hands before tossing it to the side.
One of the men had been lying face down. Kit gave him a funny look, "Sleepin' on your stomach can give you baggy eyes, champ," taking steps over his two compadres, "Pappy always said, lie on your ba-" the Interpol agent rolled the man over, spotting the grenade in his hand just as the spoon popped off, "Woah! Sh-" climbing back out of the whole as fast as his suave shoes could carry him, "Fireinthehole!" diving just as the fragmentation detonated.
"Gah!" yanking his head free of a pile of dirt and rolling onto his back, "Sunuvab*tch, god damn, Martyr's," Kit shook his head while standing up.
"Everything alright over there!"
A loudspeaker called to Mike and Kit from the North edge of the hole. Kit lifted his hand up signaling everyone were fine, "A-Okay," he called back out; whether they heard him or not, they would have spotted the signal.
After short observation it was easy to see that the bodies had been blown to hell, "Wealp. That's that evidence destroyed," climbing back down, "Whatcha got over there, Mike?" Kit called over to the spook and his search of the cockpit.
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Post by Mikey on Apr 29, 2011 7:19:45 GMT -5
“Ya, take the easy job.” Mike joked, going the opposite way and taking a look up at the rubble that the ruined mech sat on top of. Sighing, he rubbed his hands together for a moment and started grabbing hold of the pieces of rubble. It wasn’t a hard climb, there were layers of debris to use as hand and foot holds and the highest increase in altitude was only three or so feet. Mike could have sprung up with his friggin feet if he were twenty years younger. But as it was, the old man was wheezing and coughing when he made it to the top.
"Pretty high tech stuff they had! Seriously. Everything looks Military grade to some varying degree! Didn't even think the 417 had made it outta manufacturing after the first biohazard screwed up economy!" The Interpol agent yelled out, and Mike took a look back.
“It didn’t!” He yelled back, letting out one last cough. “I did pinch an arm’s dealer who had captured the factory, made a couple thousand of them and shipped them out.” He yelled. One of his last jobs he’d done. Easy as pie, all he had to do was go in with Delta as a battering ram, and they folded.
“They must have had some serious funding.” He yelled out, and just as he finished the sentence, he heard the words that he had heard a great many times in his life.
"Fireinthehole!" Kit yelled. On instinct, Mike dove foreward, putting his hands over his head and using the mech for cover. The blast went off, and Franks looked over his cover to see if Kit was alright. He was. Waving a hand when he heard the speaker box ask if they were alright, he saw Kit on his way over and asking what he had found.
“I got…” He started, taking his first in depth look at the cockpit. “A nine point oh on my weird-s***-o-meter.” He ended. It looked like the cockpit of an F-18. Small, cramped, made to be as small and light as possible. He could see the parts that looked like a set of limbs attached. And bullet holes, lots of those of varying calibers. Marks from fire and shrapnel. And then… The twisted, torn metal that looked like they had been ripped off by something with immense power…
“I seen a lot of f**ked up s*** in my day.” He said. “And I may be going senile, that remains to be determined.” He added, putting a hand down to help Kit up to the top of the pile.
“But does it look to you like something big grabbed this thing and ripped it apart?” He asked, pointing to what looked like claw marks in the side of the cockpit, and then to the mangled stumps that lacked any kind of finesse whatsoever.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on May 4, 2011 9:44:34 GMT -5
"Yeah," Kit ran his fingers over one of the claw marked areas; or in them rather; they were so wide and deep, "Looks like Godzilla and mech warrior got together for a grand ol' time."
He climbed up the cockpit utilizing the scratch marks as foot holes, "And I doubt the pilot would just push the hatch off its hinges," noting the means of ejection, "Let's see," he climbed inside and sat down, "Ah," waving his hands over all the different controls in front of him, "Whole buncha crap I don't understand," he admitted defeat, slumping his hands in his lap.
"Y'know..." intrigue picked up once Kit started fiddling with the pedals at his feet, control sticks either side of him, "Going by this user interface, looks like this thing were meant to be bipedal," he shook his hands at his own skepticism, "Well it sure as sh*t didn't fly, so what else, I mean," he climbed out, dusting himself off, "I'll put a wire out. Whether there's any info on prototype stuff I don't know. The state things are in it might be a lost lead."
Patting his way around the giant hunk of metal wouldn't find any other markings, inscriptions, livery, or clues in general for him, "We'd have to wait until the forensics crew pull it out to find anything else in it. Shouldn't be askin' too much to get a crane around here and lift if out," it was something they could check at a later time.
Climbing down the mound the cockpit sat on top of, "Seems like there was some sort of setup down here," Kit commented looking at the big picture. It was nearly too blown to crap to make out, but an intelligent mind could put together some of the pieces for how it might have originally appeared. One feature in particular being the giant box like object eroded by massive caliber rounds, it recurred a little, although differing in their destruction. It looked like there had been a field of them.
"Ja-hee-sus!" Kit brought his shades down his nose to look over them, "That guy got a fiery reception," he didn't get too close to the smoldered corpse, "Man. Talk about reserved for the worst," the sharpshooter idled through the mess; there were just too much to know what to start with first, "Looks like the very centre of everything there," he walked over to a wide dip, a huge circular piece of metal fitted into the ground. Several massive plates lay about the place, cut haphazardly, but perfectly.
Kit tried to pick one up, "Damn. Thing weighs a tonne," kicking it, "What the hell was this thing? I mean. It looks suspicious enough to be the cause of it all."
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Post by Mikey on May 8, 2011 4:11:16 GMT -5
"Looks like Godzilla and mech warrior got together for a grand ol' time." Kit said, and Mike smirked.
“Ya, I saw that movie. Turned out about like this.” He said, looking at the wrecked mech. Ya, Godzilla had ripped the f**ker up good. He watched Kit get in and try out the controls, admit defeat, and then climb out again.
"I'll put a wire out. Whether there's any info on prototype stuff I don't know. The state things are in it might be a lost lead." The Interpol agent said, and Mike shrugged.
“I doubt anyone with that kind of info at the CIA is gonna be willing to share. My clearance ain’t the highest.” He said. That was an understatement. Kit also commented on the setup of the area, how something had been there, and Mike could see it too when he looked at the area from the birds eye view. Yep…
He went to check the boxes out and heard the exclamation from Kit. Looking back and eyeing the crispy critter, he walked to the pair and stared at the body. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out his knife, the blade shot forth at the flick of a switch and he used it to poke at the body a bit.
“Not so much reserved as executed. This boy ****ed someone off good.” Mike said, indicating the line that marked where he had been disemboweled. The spoon from a grenade was about half way melted, hanging onto a piece of flesh. “Split open and flash fried from the inside. That’s gotta be up there on the list’a worst ways to die.” He said, pulling on the small switch and flicking the blade back into the handle.
When he heard Kit trying to pick something up, which turned out to be a big ass curved metal plate. The picture was starting to come together.
“So, we got a collapsed building with no damage to anything outside, indicating a powerful explosive that didn’t travel past the walls of this building. Had a bunch of boxes around that Mike had determined to be either generators, junction boxes, something of that nature. And now these plates, which Mike could only assume were supposed to reflect the energy of the blast. It was adding up…
“I ain’t no scientist or… Whoever the hell you’d call to deal with this kind of thing, but I’m betting when the crew gets here they could reconstruct this thing. I’m betting these plates will make a dome, a shell for whatever was inside. Redirect or harness the power from the boxes all around the place, build it up, and boom.” He said. “But… I ain’t no scientist.” He ended.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jul 8, 2011 13:11:59 GMT -5
Kit rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Being unable to figure the logic out of this case was quickly making him logy, "Whatever the hell it is, it's elaborate. Just like the rest of the gadgetry those holligans were trollin' around," the Interpol agent took several strides toward a strange cage like object, large enough to fit over a person. The cylinder of mesh rested on it side and he rocked it a bit to feel the sturdyness of it. It seemed primitive compared to everything else even though dead centre of the problem.
"Welp, like you said, doesn't look like the typical A-bomb. Or a bomb that went off wrong," Kit knelt down while looking at a pair of odd imprints on the ground at the foot of the mesh cylinder, putting his hand to the emboss of it feeling the fragile material inside. It was glass, nature made at that. The only suspect of such an event were a lightening strike, or something equally as powerful to lob a billion volts toward grounding.
Whoever matched these footprints had been at the bane'ss end of the current. The only inconsistent fact were that there was no body accounted for, and Kit was fairly certain a charcoaled carcass should have been laying on the very spot where he stood, "Was'tha saying, lightning never hits the same spot twice?" Kit looked up at Mike, squinting at the Vegas sun even through his shades. He looked back down at the shoe prints and mumbled, "Woulda hadda hit twice to vaporise the poor bastard."
Standing up and dusting his hands off. As far as the guy could tell no stormy weather had passed over the City of Sin for a month anyway, "Another bogus fact," he grimaced, "Let's get the nerds onto this one, Mike. I'll have operations shift their stuff and start hauling all this out. We can get an opinion on it later."
He stepped over a hacked metal plate while pulling on the collar of his suit, "Meanwhile we could prolly follow on that lead you got about that strange folk who'er in town at the time. If things aren't weird enough already, can't blame finding a connection through there," Kit stratched at his stubble, "Plus I'm hungry so we could kill two birds with one bullet there."
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Post by Mikey on Jul 13, 2011 1:45:42 GMT -5
Kit laid out a plan that Mike had a hard time finding a flaw in, seeing as they couldn’t do much of anything at the moment. They saw the site, and it posed too many new questions while being short on answers. Mike hadn’t seen a scene like this in a long time. He was usually good at pulling the facts out. He wasn’t a forensic expert in any way, but he had intuition. He had a way of seeing things that others couldn’t. But right now, the facts were nonexistent…
And then he mentioned getting something to eat. Again, Mike couldn’t find a flaw in that line of thinking.
“Got them sighted at the casino here, and a gun shop a bit down the road where everything started. Figure we can work backwards, get a nice steak while we’re at it.” Mike said, walking over and starting to climb out of the hole. He had more luck than he had thought, and was able to make it up without anyone’s help. He waited for Kit and then made his way back into the casino, cutting across to the restaurant part of the building and taking a seat. No one was here. The whole place was closed to the public, and the forces around had better things to do than gamble, drink, or have a bite in a fancy restaurant.
He pulled out his notepad again, a habit, even though Kit had already seen everything on it.
“I don’t have anything on what they did while they were here, I just know that they were in fact here for about an hour. Best I can figure is that we ask around, see if anyone has heard of them. Shouldn’t be hard, considering…” He said. They were pretty distinctive people.
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