Supernatural Response Department Quest: Pt. 2

>>1627597
>Make some breakfast

>Make some breakfast
>Watch the morning news

>>1627597
>>Make some breakfast

>>1627597
>Make some breakfast
Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!
>Watch the morning news

Sorry that took me so long. Lots of things going on right now that keep dragging me away.

[x] Make some breakfast
[x] Watch the morning news

You get up and shake yourself awake. You turn Jess’s heater down slightly and trudge into the kitchen. You’d rather not come home to a sauna of a house. Summer’s coming soon, so she won’t even need it except for night. You check your fridge, it’s soft glow illuminating your face as you check it’s contents. There aren’t a lot of eggs left, so you shrug and gather them and the rest of your ingredients. It doesn’t take you long to make breakfast, maybe fifteen minutes. From the living room ,you can hear Jess yawn. The smell of the food must have woke her up. You turn around, carrying the plates to the table and see that she poked her head through the doorway.

“Watcha’ make?” She asks.

“Scrambled eggs and sausage.” You reply.

“Awesome.” She says, a smile gracing her lips.

She slithers over to the table and joins you. As you eat, you turn on the small television you have on the kitchen counter and turn on the local news. A pretty elf news-woman and a suave-looking hispanic man are in the middle of the mo.

“-Zetas Cartel continue to funnel drugs into the country. On a related note, the drug known as ‘Rust’ continues to flow into the country at an alarming rate. The drug, made from the coca plant and the Harlen Brownleaf, a plant brought with some of the first liminals to appear on Earth, is highly addictive and a powerful stimulant. Due to the properties of the Brownleaf plant, the drug also has the effects of a strong painkiller along with the effects expected from cocaine and is...”

You shake your head at the mention of Rust. The drug shouldn’t have been made. The thing eats you from the inside. You’ve seen what it does to those who use it constantly and it's not pretty.

“On an unrelated note, four bodies were found in the desert between Wister and Frink at the sight of a suspected murder. The authorities believe that the act is affiliated with the Los Zetas Cartel.”

On the screen, footage of the bodies, tarps draped over them, are shown, with police milling about, trying their best to investigate the scene. One of them, noted as a Lieutenant Bill Sanders, is speaking with the reporter. He speaks to them about the ongoing investigation, of the belief that someone fled the scene and for the viewers to be careful if they are out in the desert. The Cartel are known to kill anyone who witnesses their actions.

When the segment's over, you take your plate over to the sink and start washing it. From behind, you hear Jess slither up beside you. She turns off the water and looks you in the eye and her tone, even if she still sounds tired, serious.

“I’ve got all this, you just get to work alright?” She says, a smirk on her lips.

>Don’t you have a project to finish? I got this.
>Alright, see you when I get back.

>>1627873
>Alright, see you when I get back.

[x] Alright, see you when I get back.

“Thank you very much! Alright, see you when I get back.” You say.

You step back from the sink and she takes your place. As you head to the stairs you can hear her humming the tune of some song as she does the dishes. You smile as you climb the stairs to your room. You open your closet and to grab your suit, you have multiple hanging up, since you couldn’t decide which one you wanted to wear. You eye them for a moment, and then you decide on the...

>Grey suit
>Black suit
>Navy blue suit

>>1628069

>Grey suit

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You think it over some more in the shower, and after you’re ready, you pull your grey suit from the closet and put it on. You’ve always liked this one more than the rest. People have asked you why, but you never really could give them an answer. It’s probably because you just like the color. By the time you get yourself groomed and are heading to the door, you see Jess planted in front of her PC, when you reach the bottom of the stairs, she turns to look at you.

“You didn’t think to wear something more, I don’t know, less neutral?” She asks.

You shrug at that.

“What’s wrong with it? I think it looks nice.” You respond.

“I always thought that it makes you look more like a lawyer than a government agent. I think the blue one looks better on you.”

You roll your eyes and head for the door. As you pull it open, you feel Jess embrace you from behind and it stops you in your tracks.

“Thanks for staying down here with me. Like, I really appreciate it. I didn’t go that in-depth with the dream, but I’m glad you didn’t just laugh it off. Have fun, alright?”

“It’s just a dream, so don’t dwell on it too much. I’ll see you when I get back.”

She lets go of you, and as you go to get into your car, she waves you goodbye.

It doesn’t take you that long to get to the office. When you get to the entrance, you see that Director Fleming is standing there. When you go to meet him, he shakes your hand and motions for you to follow him.

“Alright Angier, you’re gonna meet your partner today. Name’s Hudon Malkinor. He’s up in boardroom four with Remus. I’d come with but I’ve got some big stuff that came up.” He says.

When you reach the elevator he breaks off and joins another group of agents as they head down the hallway that leads to the executive boardroom. The trip to the boardroom isn’t too eventful. When you reach it and enter, you see Remus there along with another elf.

“Agent Angier! Take a seat.” Remus says.

When you sit down, the other two do the same.

“This is Hudon Malkinor. He’s been with the agency about as long as you have.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agent. I’m looking forward to working with you.” Hudon says.

>Likewise.
>Call me Michael.
>What’s our first case, Sir?

Ugh. Meds are kicking in. I'll keep going tomorrow after I get off work. That should be around 21:00 UTC.

>>1628320
>What’s our first case, Sir?

>>1628320
>Likewise.

>>1628320
>Likewise

>>1628320
>>Likewise

Alright, I'm back from work! Writing now!

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[x] Likewise.

“Likewise, Agent Malkinor.” You reply.

Remus looks at the two of you and a small chuckle escapes him.

“Looks like you two will get along nicely. Now, on to your first assignment.” He says.

He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a set of files and he slides one over to both of you.

“Now, there’s been a lot of disappearances around Lake Isabella, up in Kern County as of late. Campers, hikers, tourists, and so on. For a while, people were thinking that it was just wildlife, but recently, someone was able to get footage of something in the forest around the lake.”

The projector comes to life, and the footage starts to play.

Someone, who was recording on their phone, had captured something in the forest letting off blasts of lightning in Sequoia National Forest. Now, the footage isn’t too high-quality, as the cameraperson didn’t even turn his phone sideways to record this, but the lightning could easily be seen going high into the trees in the night sky. Along with that, something roaring, that sounds way too loud to be a bear or a mountain lion, can be heard in the distance.

When the footage ends, you look at Remus, whose expression has changed from it’s soft smile to a stern gaze that seems to not suit the man at all.

“I want you two to go there and ask around, see if anyone might have an idea of what it might be. That wasn’t a natural occurrence, I’m sure of that. If you discover anything, we’ll decide what to do from there. Head to Wofford Heights and meet with the Sheriff there. Her name is Fabiana Sommers. She’ll meet you at the local station there.” He explains.

“Understood, sir.” Hudon replies.

>Exactly how many have went missing?
>Do you have any ideas on what it might be, Sir?
>How long has this been going on?

>>1630234
>Exactly how many have went missing?
better get a good description of the victims while we are at it

Alright, I'm thinking this is it. Writing now!

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[x] Exactly how many have went missing?

“Sir, exactly how many have went missing? And if it’s possible, do we know anything about the victims?” You ask.

Remus looks at you, approval in his eyes.

“The most recent case is Robert Johnson. He’s a bank manager from Nevada who was out here on vacation at the time of his disappearance a week ago,” Remus explains.

He reaches into his briefcase again and pulls out a folder with pictures of the man. The man looks middle-aged, and if you had to guess from the pictures shown, he’s an avid hiker. The pictures and posts off his Facebook account show that he’s visited a lot of national parks and is well-versed in the art of bushcraft.

“His brother reported that he never came back from his vacation and the PD there’s stumped. The footage I showed you tells us that we need to get down to the bottom of this. Now, along with that, a few corpses were found in the forest as well.” He continues.

He hands you a picture. The corpse, if it can be called that, with how much of it is missing, is very badly burnt, and what isn't burnt is badly decomposed.

“I’ve never heard of a bear that can give people fucking electrical burns. Whatever this thing is, it’s dangerous and it needs to be captured or killed. When you get to the bottom of this, contact us and we’ll send a containment team.” Remus adds.

“Understood, Sir.” You and Hudon say in near-perfect unison.

“Your car is in the motor pool. Good luck, Agents.” He says, before he leaves the boardroom and the two of you to your devices.

You and Hudon look at each other, the tension in the room being evident.

>Let’s get going.
>Let’s stop by the armory. Whatever this thing is, I don’t like the thought of just having a Glock on me.
>Write in!

>>1630345
>>Let’s stop by the armory. Whatever this thing is, I don’t like the thought of just having a Glock on me.

>>1630345
Armory, a good frenchman never forgets his trusty gastinne renette 105 12 gage shotgun

>>1630357
You're breaking my heart here! You can't go wrong with a Smith & Wessen 3000

>>1630383
which ever gun we choose, it has to be a 12 gage, because whatever electric type pokemon is in charge of these attacks is gonna be dangerous and most likely hard to hit so spread is everything

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[x] Let’s stop by the armory. Whatever this thing is, I don’t like the thought of just having a glock on me.

“Let’s stop by the armory. Whatever this thing is, I don’t like the thought of just having a Glock on me if we run into it.” You say.

Hudon nods in response.

“What were you thinking along the lines of?” He asks.

“No idea. Let’s see what they can issue us.” You answer.

It doesn’t take you two that long to reach the armory, since it’s just off the hallway that leads to the motor pool. There, you can see the ordinance that’s behind the ballistic glass window. Standing behind the window is a bookish-looking human male, his attention currently grabbed by the agency laptop in front of him.

“Hey Rodney.” You say.

Your voice pulls his attention from the laptop. He adjusts his glasses and looks the two of you over.

“Michael, Hudon. How are you two today?” He asks.

“Pretty good, but we need some equipment.” Hudon answers.

He looks at the laptop and types something in.

“Yep, you got it. Remus cleared you two for it, for an... missing persons investigation. Congratulations on the promotion, Michael. What’re you looking for?” He asks.

>Got anything with a large capacity?
>Anything with a lot of hurt behind it?

>>1630434
>Anything with a lot of hurt behind it?

>>1630434
>>Anything with a lot of hurt behind it?

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[x] Anything with a lot of hurt behind it?

You think it over, and after consulting with Hudon, you come to a decision.

“Anything with a lot of hurt behind it? A shotgun seems right for this.” You answer.

“Yep. I think I've got what you're looking for.” He says.

He leaves, and after a few moments, he returns with a shotgun in tow.

“Remington 870 Modular Combat Shotgun, twelve gauge. This one’s got a folding stock, a pistol grip and a tac light. Sorry, but that’s all I can issue Special Agents. Think that’ll work?”

You think it over for a moment, then look at Hudon.

“You fine with that?” You ask.

“This is more for you, buddy. I can take care of myself.” He answers.

In his hand, a small flame appears before it goes out.

Yeah. You forgot that. In the SRD, there’s at least one mage in every team.

>Yeah.
>No. Let me see a carbine.

>>1630485
>>Yeah.
Remington's are good quality

>>1630485
>yeah

WE'RE ON A PARANORMAL HUNT,AND DON'T THINK WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO WEED EM OUT

Writing! We're going to change perspective in a bit.

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“Yeah. We’ll take it.” You answer.

“Alright! Hang on, I’ll need you to sign some forms before I can issue this.” He says.

A moment later, he returns with a small stack of forms for the two of you to sign. You let out a small sigh. This is going to take you a while....

Meanwhile....

You wake up in the shack you took shelter in for the night. It’s morning now, and it looks like the Zetas didn’t follow you. That’s good at least. You leave the shack and the bright morning light almost blinds you. Out here in the desert, it’s morning and it’s already getting pretty warm out. You head to your ill-gotten truck and see that it’s not been tampered with. That’s another good thing today! At least this morning is looking better than last night did. You get in the car and lock the door. You open your duffel bag, take out a bottle of water and a couple of granola bars and have yourself some breakfast.

It’s not much, but it’s a lot better than eating dirt like you might have last night if you hadn’t dropped those guys.

When you down the last of the bottle of water, you begin to plan your next move. You know that there’s a few places in Slab City you could go to but where to?

>The Internet Cafe?
>The Range?
>East Jesus?

>>1630561
>>The Internet Cafe?
see if there is news of what happened last night

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You think the best option right now would be to head to the internet cafe and see if anything about last night is on the news. As you head there, you notice how the place has changed since the last time you were here. The place seems a lot more lively now compared to a few years ago. You don’t even have to look hard for liminals. This is the kind of place where reptilian liminals are common.

In the summer it gets over one-hundred degrees, and it also weeds out the “snowbirds”, as the permanent inhabitants call them. When you make it to the internet cafe, it’s relatively crowded, but you’re able to find a seat on a worn-out couch. You pull your laptop out of your backpack, making sure to cover the thugs handguns better, and you connect to the wi-fi.

It doesn’t take you long to find something about it. The police found the corpses when someone called them about the gunshots. You’re glad that you made it away from the scene alive, but that also means that the Zetas definitely know that too. You sink more into the couch, trying to figure out what to do next. You sure as hell can’t live out of that truck any longer. You bet that Miguel, the son-of-a-bitch jefe that ordered your hit is definitely angry that you survived what he had planned for you. You don’t know what to do from here.

“Hey. You alright?” A feminine voice asks you.

You turn your head to the person next to you. She’s not human, that’s for sure. You can see that with the scales that you can see one her arms and face. That, and the tail that you can see tucked next to her.

>Yeah. I’m fine.
>No. Not at all.
>Please don’t bother me. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.

>>1630781
>>Yeah. I’m fine.

“Yeah. I’m- I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind. A lot’s happened in these last few days.” You explain.

Too much, if you had to be honest. Just why the hell did you have to get greedy? Why couldn’t you have just took your cut?

The look on her face goes from one of curiosity to one of sadness. To be honest, it kind of makes your heart ache a bit.

“I saw you drive up in that truck. That shack isn’t really a great place to live,” She says.

For a moment, she looks like she’s lost in thought, but that ends as quickly as it begins. Her voice is optimistic, like she’s trying to be positive for the both of you.

You forgot how nice a lot of the people in Slab City are. This place is so far from the rest of civilization that, to a degree, they really have to help out each other to survive. You think back to when you entered the cafe and saw the donation jar sitting on the front desk. It was pretty full.

“Hey! I’ve got a spare bed at my place. Wanna crash there tonight? My roommate’d probably be fine with it.” She asks.

You mull the options over in your head.

>Take her up on her offer.
>Tough it out.
>Write-in?

>>1630885
>>Take her up on her offer.
Sure fucking beats living in some shitty shack. We'll have to stash our weapons somewhere though

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Hell, it definitely beats living in a fucking shack.

“Sure. Gimme a second though. I gotta get something out of the truck.” You say.

You head back and get inside. Most of the people here won’t be breaking into other people’s rides. The closest town is four miles away, and even though it’s not that far, in the desert, that’s a lifetime under the blazing sun. If anyone would want to get a ride out there they’d best not sour their reputation. You take out the guns and stash them, and their ammunition, under the backseat of your truck.

When you return, the girl is waiting for you at the entrance to the cafe. She waves at you and you wave back at her.

“Ready to go?” She asks.

“Yeah.” You answer.

You follow her for what seems like well over ten minutes, until you reach the outskirts of Slab City. There, in the unrelenting desert, is a concrete mound rising up out of the sand. Its front is littered with graffiti and it looks like the door had been torn down a long time ago. Even with that, the girl and you still walk toward it. When you reach the entrance and begin to climb down, out of the scorching desert heat and into a somewhat-less-unbearable interior, you see that the place isn’t as destitute as you would have thought it to be.

You’re standing in a small, but still cozy room. A beat-up old couch, a horrendously scuffed and scratched coffee table and a frayed rug that it stands atop of. Surprisingly enough, the place has light, albeit not a lot of it. Here and there, along the hallway leading, as you suspect, further into the installation, you can see a string of wires snaking the walls. Along with that there are light fixtures installed somewhat sporadically throughout it, where in some places there isn’t a patch of dark, and in other places there are large patches of shadow between them.

The girl motions for you to sit on the couch, and you do as she asks. She smiles at you and walks over to the entrance to the hallway.

“I’ll be back. I’m gonna look for Reggie. He’s my roommate. He’s a little... protective, and I’d rather not have him throwing you out because he thought you’d just squat here without asking. I’ll be back soon!” She explains.

When she returns, she has with her a mean-looking human man, built like a brick shithouse, with a series of nasty-looking tattoos across his shirtless frame. He eyes you, his gaze burning through your soul, before looking at the girl and pointing at you.

“Lemme speak with him, then we can decide. You go along and do... something or whatever for like, a few minutes.”

She nods and heads back down the hallway, into an adjoining room on the right side.

Reggie looks at you, his face like one you’d see on that of a dad who just met his daughter’s boyfriend. He scrutinizes you for a bit before he asks you a question.

“What brings you to the Slabs?”

>Lie
>Tell the truth
>A little of both?

>>1631056
>>A little of both?
A new start

>>1631094
Gonna need a d10 roll for that, friend.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1631101
I got the hottest dice in town

[x] A little of both?

You squirm under his gaze a bit before you finally find your words.

“Alright, so I got into some trouble. And with that came a lot of problems, like people wanting me dead. Because of this, I had to get the fuck out of dodge, and so the first place I could think of was Slab City! See, it’s out of the way and it’s like really off the grid, so I was thinking that it would be a great place to lay low while I figure out what to do next.” You explain.

“Just what kinda trouble is a kid like you getting into? Just looking at you, I’d say you weren’t that much older than Liz back there.” Reggie replies.

“Well, I stole something that I was supposed to give to the people I used to work for, and well, they were pretty fuckin’ mad that I kept it. They really wanted it back, like they tried to intimidate me and well, it worked but I managed to outsmart them, a few hours later and here I am.” You answer.

Reggie stares at you for quite a bit. It’s the kind of stare that, let’s say, a police officer or an angry parent would use to make someone spill the beans. He stops after a moment and slaps you on the back.

“If you’re gonna stay here, you’re gonna have to work for it. First I’m gonna need your name, though.”

“Enrique Garcia.” You say.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Enrique,” Reggie replies.

He goes to shake your hand and you return in kind. It’s the nice thing to do after all. He gets up and heads back into the hallway.

“We’re gonna head out to The Range later tonight. It’s open-mic night. You’re welcome to join us,” He says.

You go to answer, but he interrupts you.

“But if you don’t, and I come back to find anything missing, I’ll gut you like a trout and throw you in the desert.” He finishes.

“A-alright.” You stammer out.

He smirks at your reaction, then heads back down the hallway, leaving you alone with your thoughts. That, and your pounding heart.

And with that, I'm out for the night. I'll try to return around the same time tomorrow. 21:00 UTC.

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You are Special Agent Michael Angier. You, along with your new partner, Hudon Malkinor, are on the road, on your way to your assignment. The highway is as busy as it usually is. That’s one thing that you can count on in California: fucking traffic. Cars in front and cars behind. For a while you were at a relatively quick pace but it’s started to slow down. You guess that there’s some more construction going on up ahead. That, or an accident. Either one’s pretty likely here. You loosen your grip on the steering wheel a little bit as you start to relax and settle in for the slow crawl in front of you.

You turn to look at Hudon, whose face is buried in the dossier currently. He’s read it over at least three times by now. Every time you would glance over, you would notice that he had either gotten to the end of it or was beginning to read it over again.

For the first time in the last hour or so, he’s noticed you watching him.

“What’s up?” He asks.

>Nothing. Just wanna talk. Fuckin’ traffic’s not moving.
>Just how many times are you gonna read that thing?
>So what’s your story? Never really got a chance to ask you back at the office.

>>1633457
>>Just how many times are you gonna read that thing?

“Just how many times are you gonna read that thing?” You ask.

He looks at you in confusion, like you just asked him why the hell he was breathing or why he wasn’t walking in the street instead of on the sidewalk.

“Until I’ve memorized most of it. There’s a lot of important information in here and if one of us is well-versed in it, they can cover until the other one is well-versed in it as well.” He explains.

That’s respectable. You really didn’t have a lot of time to study the dossier when you were filling out the paperwork, and you definitely can’t read it while driving.

“I’ve gleaned a some more from here that Remus didn’t have the time to tell us. Like right here; apparently, the police combed the forest, but they rarely found anything that belonged to the missing persons outside of what was left behind at their campsites. Anything I can tell you?” He asks.

>Anything there about the Sheriff?
>What kind of wildlife are there? I don’t think I’ve ever been to Lake Isabella.
>Let me hear about you. I’d like to get to know my partner better.

>>1633749
>>Anything there about the Sheriff?

>>1633749
>>Let me hear about you. I’d like to get to know my partner better.

Writing! Things keep popping up or I'd be done with it by now. Apologies.

“Anything there about the Sheriff?”

He thumbs through the file, and nods, as if he found what he was looking for.

“Born local, joined the Army after high school, came back and worked her way up to Sheriff. According to this, she’s pretty new, only been one for about two years or so.” He explains.

“Anything else?”

“Uh... says here she spearheaded a drug bust in Mountain Mesa, a neighboring community. Got her a commendation for that. That and she attempted to join the FBI but she didn’t make it through the selection process.”

You cringe. You’ve dealt with one or two of those. They like your help, but they sure as hell don’t like you in the slightest.

Hey, at least it couldn’t get any worse, right?

“Hey, let’s change the topic. I’d like to know my partner a bit better. What’s your story, Hudon?” You ask.

He looks surprised that you asked him that. You would be too, with how no-nonsense you’ve been. He looks around for a bit, but he eventually answers you.

“Well, there’s not too much to say. After high school I went to college for Criminal Justice and then again for Magical Theory and Practice. Then after that I was a Crime Scene Investigator for the NYPD.” He explains.

“So what, you couldn’t just sling lightning and control minds from birth?”

He chuckles at that. You worked with a few magicians when you were in Afghan, and they really couldn’t explain it to you that well, since most of them were in the Navy and you didn’t get to speak to them often.

“No. Well I could, but the last time I tried it before I started going to Magic Control courses I got thrown across the room. Oh! I also had a really bad concussion to go along with it. Magic’s nothing to joke around with, Michael. I can probably beat you in a long-distance run, too. Magic’s hard on the heart, man. Now, I saw you cringe. I’m guessing you’ve got a bad feeling about this case?”

>Get ready, buddy. I’m betting she won’t be too nice.
>I’ve dealt with worse.
>Anything about the new wildlife there?

>>1633985
>>Get ready, buddy. I’m betting she won’t be too nice.
Would be nice to be proven wrong though.

>>1633985
>>Get ready, buddy. I’m betting she won’t be too nice.

“Get ready, buddy. I’ve dealt with those types before. See, not everyone’s mad if they fail to get in and if they really knew how much we do, they’d be happy they didn’t get in, but sometimes they’re a little... sore about it.” You explain.

“I bet that she’s not. Just because you’ve ran into some assholes doesn’t mean everyone is. Local PD’s get mad if we take the credit. I mean, if I were a cop and some Feds came in and took over and said they did most of the work, I’d be pretty pissed too.” He replies.

“You wanna make a bet?”

“How much are we talking?”

>Five bucks.
>Ten bucks.
>Twenty bucks.

>>1634096
>>Ten bucks.

>>1634096
>>Five bucks.
We're already bonding!

“I’m feeling like, let’s say ten dollars. Sound good to you?” You ask.

He smirks, then nods in agreement.

“Sounds good to me.” He answers.

“I’d shake your hand, but I gotta watch the road. The traffic’s starting to clear up.” You say.

He looks out the windshield and sure enough, you’re right.

“Let’s get to it then. Should take us like two or so hours to get there if traffic’s light.” He adds.

You chuckle at that. Traffic’s one of the constants here, like high taxes and temperatures.

“How long have you lived here? You said you were NYPD.”

“About a year or so. They transferred me here after an agent was... well...”

“When Norfolk got killed?”

“...Yeah.”
There’s a silence in the car. Agent Norfolk’s death was a shock to a lot of people. No one really expected it, to be honest. He was a hero, he was one of those guys that people thought could survive anything, what with the fact that he cracked some seriously tough cases. The kind of thing that gets targets put on backs.

>It happens.
>It never gets any easier.
>Write in?

>>1634294
>>It never gets any easier.

>>1634294
>>It never gets any easier.

“It never gets any easier, man, losing people. Yeah, you might not like someone and you might not get along, but they’d risk their lives for you if they had to. That’s what this job’s about; protecting people.” You say.

“You got that right. My partner, back when I was a beat cop, he got killed right after I got promoted. Not even a fucking week after, he pulled this fuck over with a busted tail light and... the guy just shot him and sped off. Got him in the head, man. ” He replies.

If you weren’t driving, you’d pat him on the back. You know exactly what it’s like to lose a good friend. You get close to the people you work a lot with. With the fields you’ve both been in, it’s just part of the job. During your time in Afghan, you lost your fair share of brothers. Hell, your brothers almost lost you.

You’d talk about it, but you don’t feel like talking about what happened in Helmand. Hell, you didn’t even want to tell the FBI shrink about it during the psych exam. They already knew what happened, why the hell did they ask you?

“Hey, let’s focus on the assignment, alright? I’d rather touch this shit over a beer or two after this is all over.” He asks.

“Gotcha.”

Outside of speaking about the assignment, there isn’t too much you two talk about. You definitely think you broke the ice, but there’s more important things to worry about at the moment.

It takes you about as long as Hudon said it would to reach Lake Isabella. It’s not so much a town as it is just a community. To you, it’s like the kind of place where not a lot really happens and your arrival might be the most interesting thing to happen outside of the disappearances. As you pull into the small police station here and head in to meet the Sheriff, you notice just how small it is.

When you compare this place to, let’s say, the LAPD Office you spent a lot of your time at. It’s small when you compare it to the city, that’s for sure. You head for the Sheriff’s office and from outside, you can hear what sounds like an argument.

>Barge in.
>Wait for it to cool down.

>>1634475
>Wait for it to cool down.
>Eavesdrop. But discreetly, and only just a little.

>>1634475
>>Wait for it to cool down.
No need to piss on anyone's shoes.

>>1634475
>>Wait for it to cool down.

File: Bernstein.jpg (47KB, 409x516px) Image search: [Google]

47KB, 409x516px

You decide to stay out of it. Best not to piss anyone off just yet. You still move closer to the door to make out what’s being said, or, if you had to be more specific, ordered. This doesn’t include Hudon, who feels the most prudent option is to stay back, a good amount of space between him and the shitstorm coming to a head in that office.

“Sir, the best and most prudent way to protect the public would be to shut down the trails and campsites until we can determine what this thing is and neutralize it.” A calm, feminine but yet gruff-sounding voice explains.

“We’re not shutting down anything, not this close to tourist season! Those suits you called in better take care of this yesterday or you and your entire precinct are going to have to answer for it!” Someone else, a masculine voice retorts.

This continues on for a few more minutes, with the feminine voice trying to calm down the masculine one, but eventually it comes to a head and the door is flung open. If it weren’t for your quick reflexes, you might’ve taken a door the face.

Standing there is a puffed-up and red-faced middle-aged man, his hair balding and grey. He sees you two and almost immediately straightens himself out, going from his scowl to a smile in the blink of an eye.

“Why hello there! It’s a pleasure to meet you two! I’m guessing that you are from the FBI?” He asks.

“Yes. Special Agent Michael Angier.” You say.

“Special Agent Hudon Malkinor, a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Hudon adds.

He shakes both of your hands in a rapid and, if you had to guess, probably rehearsed fashion.

“Mayor John Bernstein, it’s a pleasure to meet the two of you.” He says.

>Is Sheriff Sommers in?
>We’d like to get started on the investigation, Sir.
>Can you tell me anything about the disappearances?

>>1634573
>>Is Sheriff Sommers in?
Time to talk to someone useful. Fuck this guy.

>>1634573
>We’d like to get started on the investigation, Sir.
>Is Sheriff Sommers in?
Don't see that the two statements can't be used together. The former establishes a level of professionalism, brushes him off somewhat politely, and leads in nicely to the latter.

>>1634573
>>Is Sheriff Sommers in?

File: The Sheriff.jpg (47KB, 630x420px) Image search: [Google]

47KB, 630x420px

“We’d like to get started on the investigation, Sir. Is Sheriff Sommers in?” You ask.

You simply want to get this guy out of the picture. You’re sure he’d do more harm than good right now.

“Oh yes, yes she is! She’s in her office. I’ll leave this to her. If you need me for anything just let my secretary know!” He says, what sounds like a forced chuckle following it.

“We’ll let you know if we need anything, Sir.”

“Alright! I’ve got something to attend to, so I can’t join you right now, but like I said; if you need anything just let us know!”

He leaves just as quickly as he appeared, down the hall and out of sight, leaving you alone in the hall until someone sticks their head out of the office.

“I’m guessing that you just met the mayor?” The woman asks.

“Yep. He seems like quite the charmer.” You say, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

She smirks at that as she goes to shake your hand.

“You don’t know the half of it. I’m Sheriff Sommers. I’m guessing that you’re the Special Agents?” She asks.

“Yep. Special Agents Michael Angier and Hudon Malkinor, at your service.” You answer.

“You don’t know just how happy I am to see you two. Whatever this thing is, it’s got us stumped.”

She waves you into her office, a cramped and cluttered space, with a computer on one end of the desk and a pile of reports on the other. On one wall is a map of the surrounding area pinned to a corkboard, with a multitude of little red pins stuck in various places throughout the forest.

In all honesty, it reminds you of the chief’s desk back at the precinct. That man almost never seemed to rest. It got to the point that people started referring to him as “The Robot”. Not to his face, obviously. Any chance of that stopped when a rookie made the mistake of calling him that. You’ve never seen someone be chewed out as badly as he was.

>Do you have anything new you can tell us?
>Do you know who it was who took the footage we were shown?
>Can you go about showing us where the latest victim was last seen?

>>1634649
>>Can you go about showing us where the latest victim was last seen?
Get the lay of the land.

>>1634649
>Do you have anything new you can tell us?
First off, this. We need to be brought up to speed, if there's anything to be brought up on, before making any decisions.

“Is there anything new that you can tell us? I’m guessing that you weren’t just waiting around for us to show up.” You ask.

She nods in response before typing something into her PC. After a bit, she pulls up a set of files and begins reading.

“There was another disappearance last night. It’s a local, too. A group of teens decided it’d be fun to see if they could get a look at the whatever it is that’s taking people. They split into groups and decided to look around. Well, one of them must’ve found something, cause one of em’ got knocked over the head by something and his buddy got dragged off. The bad news? Whatever it was took his phone and smashed it. They smashed it good too. We couldn’t recover anything from it.” Sommers explains.

“One of my officers filed this report. He’s not here, but we know where the location is. The other boy is in the local hospital, too. He’s took a bad blow to the head. They already asked him about everything he knows. He doesn’t know anymore than we do. Stupid kids, they shouldn’t have been out that late, especially in the fucking forest...” She says.

You look at Hudon, who looks back at you.

“Any ideas?” You ask.

“We could check out the site, see if we can see anything they didn't. That’s my first guess. Only other options would be to, I don’t know... call a town meeting or something later, see if anyone who knows something hasn’t come forth, or maybe visit one of the campsites that got ransacked.” He says.

>Visit a campsite.
>Visit the site of the attack.
>Call a town meeting.
>Write-in?

>>1634777
>>Visit the site of the attack.

“How about we visit the site of the attack? Like Agent Malkinor said, we might see something you didn’t.” You suggest.

“We can and we will. You two can just follow me to the trail.” She explains.

I don't mean to be a spoilsport, but it's getting late and I need to get some rest. I'll be back tomorrow. I don't exactly know when though. A lot of things are happening this holiday weekend for me. I'll try to be back as soon as I can though!

Oh darn it, I missed a good chunk of stuff.