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Keystone drives in his truck with Mirage in the passenger seat, happy to follow her GPS to the area of the city where the building resides. As he is guided through the streets, Keystone decides that it would be rude if he didn't at least attempt conversation.
"So, er, how long have been in, er, Sacramento?" He cringes as soon as he hears his own voice. Smooth, jackass.
Keystone's truck
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Mirage, not seeming to mind his questioning, answers, "Only a couple months. I was residing in San Diego but I came to Sacramento to work with the Deacon." As she speaks she watches the city pass by through the truck's window.
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Nodding at Mirage's response, Keystone takes the rest of the drive in relative silence, muttering under his breath at the state of his fellow road user's basic driving skills.
As the building comes into view he asks without taking his eyes off the road, "So, do you know anywhere nearby we can loiter without bringing much in the way of undue attention on our activities? Call me a prude, but what we're planning isn't exactly viewed as being upstanding citizens."
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After they've driven around the building a bit Mirage spots a coffeeshop with a large picture window facing the building. She also noticed, a couple blocks back, a couple of back-to-back payphones from where they can make the call.
"There should be fine." she says, pointing. "I saw a couple of phones a few blocks back. We'll park, take a walk, then make the call. By the time we make it back here the authorities should be responding."
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Keystone sasy nothing as he parks the truck carefully. Hopping out, he mentions to Mirage, "Are you aware of any cameras in the area? Not sure I want my face caught if they decide to look into this little enterprise."
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~~Narration~~
Looking around, it seems to be a typical commercial area. There is enough foot traffic and small parking areas that cameras don't seem to be used.
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Mirage steps down out of the truck and begins walking down the street to the place where she'd seen the payphones - expecting Keystone to be right with her. Her silvery heels click as she walks down the sidewalk and several passing males turn to watch her slender form move under her tight white skirt.
"It doesn't look like cameras are much in use in this area. A glance at our faces on a video tape isn't anything that I'm sure can't be handled later, but we'll be careful."
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Keystone simply nods as he follows, the stares of the passing males making him more than a little nervy. Damn, quick mover, he thinks, jogging lightly to play catch up and matching her steps in silence until they reach the payphones.
"Your show," he says, indicating the phone.
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Mirage smirks as they arrive near the phones, "isn't a male voice a little more threatening maybe even more easy to disguise? All you have to do is tell them that you're aware of a bomb on the top floor, just as calm as ordering a pizza..." She pauses then, noticing Keystone obvious discomfort, she adds, "don't worry I'm right here..." She reaches in her little matching silver and white purse, takes out a compact, and powders her face idly.
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Keystone looks blankly at her for several seconds before picking up the receiver with a hand that starts to slightly shake, not entirely comfortable with this as the notion of what they were doing suddenly hit him.
The thrills of being Awakened, he cyniclly thinks.
He dials 911. He waits. He speaks.
"There's a bomb at the top of {insert address here}. I'd be dead fast, if I were you."
He hangs up, looking to Mirage and saying, "I need that coffee now."
What he was thinking was I need that whiskey now.
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