Vince sits int he back seat, a foot tapping morse code. 'Tell me, tell me, tell me.'
Finally, he breaks. "You guys have been silent too long. What happened?"
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Vince sits int he back seat, a foot tapping morse code. 'Tell me, tell me, tell me.'
Finally, he breaks. "You guys have been silent too long. What happened?"
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'Yeah, I don't really know what to say. It is all so strange, and what now? After you left, Chris connected the piece of cloth with a pair of batteries. Then, he touched it with a pen, and the pen simply dissappeard in it.' Jessica sighs, suddenly looking like an old woman while remembering the darkness.
'Chris said that if someone could turn the cloth in powder and spray it on the boat, then find a way to give it energy, it would give the effect of what happened with our boat. It all sounds rather strange to me, but it takes a moment for my brains to absorb such a strange happening...'
She falls in silence and looks to Frank, hoping he could say what he thought of it, and if she forgot to tell something. She wonders if Vince or Rizzo also thinks there's a snag in it, in the whole story.
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Vince makes an odd animal noise. Maybe a squawck. He then pushes himself int othe seat to think, arms crossed infront of him. "So, how is it we found it as a flake off the boat wreck? Wait. no.." That made little sense, if the ship had been simply covered by the black and the hull made a portal, then it would be whole with out the electric current. And when could anyone paint a boat hull with anything while it was in the water? and where did they get all the black stuff?
And. "Um. that doesn't make any sense. And not just because Portals have yet to be invented. Maybe the boat was targeted sure? But maybe it was the attack that produced our flakes? Maybe the same thing happened to the cloth?"
Did that mean the boat was not an accident? Or, the boat was an accident and a second accident was also detected by the military. Maybe a tent, or a canvas truck? Maybe a Soldier? Maybe a suitcase?
Conjecture. But Vince feels they are onto something more then just a wild hunt.
"I'm going to see if this broke a headline. Maybe the Base couldn't keep it quite."
The handy Blackberry is out and searching the net for anynews out of the Airforce base. Specifically anything strange or tragic.
Random Outburst Cop is good for something. Recall is a memory roll. Investigation is the internet search. Rolled before mods
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(( C'mon mAAAAAAAANThieves Raid Air Force Base ))
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Jessica curiously tries to watch with Vince on the Blackberry, but then decided it was probably easier to ask. 'Found anything interesting? Any idea what to do next?'
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"Oh, wow. I found a report from last year. Someone stole some dead soldiers and some guns after breaking in. That's really weird. Why steal dead soldiers? Some people are sick. Hard to say if our dirt is related to this or not." Vince does some more searching but pulls up a blank. "What do you think Frank?"
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"I think," Frank says slowly, as one does when trying to come to grips with something bigger than oneself, "it was wrong." The memory of that super-black, it etched itself in his brain. "Whatever it was, shouldn't be. I think our guy Chris is in trouble, holdin' on to that damn thing. As for how you paint a boat with it, then juice the boat, I don't understand. The pen just disappeared, it didn't crumble, like the flakes did. Maybe the water, or somethin' in the water, caused this different, decay effect once the boat had been treated with this stuff..." Frank sighs, trying to come up with a plan for such an odd investigation. "I think it'd be a good idea to find out under what circumstances McClellan's found that piece of cloth. I mean, where it belonged before. I also think the military ain't gonna be forthcoming with answers from a few gumshoes, Feds or no. An' if we just call up asking questions about somethin' impossible we saw, they'll probably send someone to retrieve it from Chris, maybe off the poor guy for flappin' his gums. I don't need that kid on my conscience. Didn't someone book that boat fer themselves, alone, several times, paying in cash? Maybe the people doin' the rentin', or the ship's captain, would remember the guy, get us a description, somethin' to go on. We got the contact info for the captain?" he asks Patolli. It was something to do, at least, while he figured out how to follow up at McClellan's AFB without gettin' stonewalled, or shot for treason, or whatever they do to nosy detectives past their prime.
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"Yeah, Everything is on file." Vince searches for the nifty file he made and pulls out the Boat Captain's information.
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Ben Johnson, a Sacramento native, retired from the merchant marine after twenty years, is relatively uninteresting except a handful of drunk & disorderlies and disturbing the peace (aka bar brawls).
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"Then lets go interview him," Frank says, driving aimlessly until he knew where they needed to go. The Dodge seemed to be in good spirits after leaving the campus; it was barely rattling. "Give him a call, Patolli. Tell him he can assist us in our inquiries. Don't ask him. Tell him."
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