Ten minutes later – I give you chapter two!
Told you I was quick, didn't I?
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Unexpected Diversions
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Chapter 2
Someone
Near was on the cold floor of his warehouse, sprawled out like an octopus missing four of it's arms, dissatisfied and moody with the investigation, or more precisely, the lack of investigation.
Nothing surrounded him, save for three computers and accompanying equipment, a thoroughly deflated mattress and a stack of cards, which had arranged themselves into a haphazard mess to the left of his sock-clad foot.
At present, he had no desire to sort them, let alone construct an eighteen-story-high Taj Mahal with them, like he might have done on any other occasion. This state of gloom could vanish in mere minutes, of course. Nonetheless, this fact did nothing to the apparent truth that at present, Near; eighteen-year-old genius extraordinaire, was too listless to attempt a game of cards. It is this sad truth that is the result of lack of progress in any investigation.
However, he was not the reason this investigation had taken such a horrible turn.
He was the reason it was still being investigated.
He was the one who had come only seconds away from cracking it.
He was the one who had to pick up the pieces of an officer's foolish move; an officer who had been under his control, yet had gone completely against his assigned orders.
And now, their cover had been blown. It would be foolish to resume investigations so soon – such a move would only land them in deeper suspicion. So now, all he could do was wait for time to cover his – no, not his – his pawn's brutal mis-footing.
And all this waiting, this lack of investigation, was driving Near to absolute boredom.
What he needed was an insider.
Someone not under any suspicion – who had no recorded affiliation with the line of Wammy's House, or any other private investigation organization.
Someone who could sneak around without actually calling attention to themselves, or more importantly, Near himself.
The question was, who was going to be that someone?
It was true, he had many people working under him, all of whom would raise their hand at such an opportunity, all of whom would willingly put their life on the line to complete such a vital task. All of whom, unfortunately, were under suspicion by the very people they themselves were investigating.
No, Near thought idly as he went in search of his finger puppets, someone from the outside.
He found them, to his delight, discreetly hiding under the corner of his mattress, which groaned in protest as he reached under it and carefully saved them from their solitude. Sitting himself on the cold, concrete floor, cross-legged and hunched over, he slowly, precisely, began to stand them upright in front of him, all an equal amount of space apart, otherwise it wouldn't count, of course.
A tiny Near stood to the left, his carefully drawn face obscured after many years of repetitive use. Next to him stood a puppet clad in black – formerly Mello, but adjusted to be a representation of the body of men and women working under him – the expression on the face a little confused, which suited the character perfectly, Near thought tiredly.
Opposite Near and his force stood another two puppets, facing each other as if ready for combat. One of the puppets Near had victimized to a series of fatal deaths; be it long falls from dangerous Lego towers to being run over by an unsuspecting fire-engine. This was the enemy. His black business suit shone and his smile remained unfazed, despite his numerous deaths.
Facing him was an unmarked puppet, blank – ready to be assigned. This was Someone. Someone would be their secret weapon; the ace up their sleeve, figuratively in the police force's case, literally in Near's.
Now he was no longer bored. Now he could get somewhere with this investigation again.
And he knew what the first thing he was going to do was.
He was going to find Someone.
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The stack of files were huge.
No, they were gigantic.
Near wondered if he could ever build a tower that high. With Lego? Not likely; the pieces were too small, and it was hard to achieve equal weight-distribution due to their rectangular shape, meaning he could only build a tower up to half the size of the papers before it crumbled. With building blocks it was far more likely; though they lacked the direct locking mechanisms Lego had when you connected each piece, if it was well-built, he could build a tower as high as he wanted to, as long as he had control over the surrounding variables.
But that was beside the point.
The main concern here was that he was 3% sure he had twenty-eight hours to sort through the myriads of files to select one person with adequate – no, not adequate - with exceptional intelligence, skill, experience, talent, resourcefulness, and who was utterly trust-worthy to perform this role. This, he deduced masterfully, did not give him that much time, as he made a point to go through each and every file on his own. Because this needed to be his selection – he could not afford any more mistakes from their part.
Besides, if you want something done well, you must do it yourself.
Sighing only slightly, Near began at the best place to begin – the start. He scooped up the file on top and opened it with a quick flick. He scanned it quickly, picking and pulling at the essential information.
Newly recruited officer? He read.
No.
And he was one to the next file, only bothering to read through thoroughly if all major essentials were fulfilled.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
Mother of six? There was no way he could afford such potential distractions.
No.
No.
No.
No.
Eight years experience, recommended by all his former employers, Near read.
Possible.
He threw this file to his right, starting a new pile he hoped would grow.
No.
No.
No.
No.
And so Near continued unblinking.
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"I have narrowed down our options to four," Near spoke into the speaker connected to his buzzing computer, his voice twisted and manipulated as it was fed through the wires. "I thought it would only be fair to show you the options we have before us, even if you yourselves have no authority in the final decision. Your opinions are, of course, welcomed and encouraged, though."
The five men and one woman on the other end of the line shared uneasy glances amongst themselves. When it came to L, they were never 100% sure of his sincerity - at the best of times they felt he was only incorporating them in his schemes out of pure formality.
"Thank you, L," the Chief of the elite group spoke in return into the microphone, his voice undisguised and rough through many years of use, "please send through the files."
"I already have, you'll find them arriving shortly, I imagine," Near told them, the slightest smile in his voice.
And they did arrive. Four documents opened up and enlarged themselves on the wide screens simultaneously; two male and two female. The notes typed about each individual were extensive, far longer than the versions that had been sent out, which the Chief presumed could have only meant L had added some of his own thoughts to the files.
"Allow me to introduce Connor Yip, Kevin Hashram, Lorna Sentill and Kathy Ha. These are the four men and women I have found most suitable for the job," L's voice echoed through the small, private room, "please; your thoughts, if you will."
Silence was what greeted him at first, until the lone woman, Detective Sherry Stevenson, aged fifty-three, spoke up boldly.
"Not Connor Yip or Kevin Hashram," she spoke loud enough for the microphone to catch her low voice.
The was a brief pause. "I agree," L announced calmly, just as the group had began to suspect Sherry had contradicted his opinion. "But tell me, why did you come to this conclusion?"
Sherry glanced at the detailed profiles of the two men blaring on the screen before answering.
"I believe from what we've learned about the...nature of the suspected, these two men will not be suitable."
Another pause. "Why, Detective?"
"He's a rapist," she blurted.
A fellow worker gaper at her in horror, his chin threatening a dual with the floor. "So you think we should send a woman straight into his clutches? Just because he'll be able to think of an alternate agenda? Are you serious?"
"We should go with either of the men," the Chief protested, "it might take longer for them to gain his trust, but at least no one will be in danger."
"Chief," L interrupted before he could go any further, "I believe whoever we choose will be in danger, no matter what gender they may be."
He paused before continuing. "As I stated earlier, I agree with Detective Sherry. Though I wouldn't have exactly expressed it in such terms, I do believe that due to our suspect's history, he will not feel as threatened by a woman. We know him to think them inferior – he will be less likely to bother acting, even if he does suspect she is working undercover."
A furious nod met this statement from Sherry, whose face had been scrunching up tighter and tighter as he continued.
"That scum!" She spat. "We'll show him."
The Chief sighed in defeat, carefully avoiding Sherry's line of anger. "I guess then it's either Lorna Sentill or Kathy Ha."
"Lorna Sentill, aged forty-three, working undercover for twenty years. Kathy Ha, aged thirty-seven, recommendations and colorful awards for her abilities and ..." here Matsuda trailed off, realizing the exact same information could be seen from the screen. He tried to cover his error with a series of sharp coughs.
"Hard to say," the Chief admitted, chewing a toothpick between his teeth that he had found on the bench. "Experience or flair?"
"Experience," Sherry decided forcefully.
"Flair," Matsuda suggested at the exact same time. He earned a harsh glare from his opposer.
"Experience is required in an assignment as delicate as this," Sherry explained, using her hands to prove just how essential is was.
"No," a high-ranking police officer contradicted from a corner, where he had been watching the debate with an amused smile on his face. "Flair; we need someone who'll simply get the job done – in and out. Then it'll be over. Nice and quick."
"Experience," Sherry unenunciated each syllable between gritted teeth, her fists curled at her sides.
"Flair," The officer mimicked in turn, the amused smile plastered to his face.
"May I remind you," Near cut in, "that it is I who will make the final decision. Thank you all for your thoughts. They will all be considered as I make this decision. We'll make contact again soon."
And with a click, he was gone.
"Flair," the officer snickered under his breath, being rewarded with a smack on the head from the dominating Detective Sherry.
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HaHa! You guys thought SHE was going to be in one of those files didn't you? Didn't you?
*evil laughter*
eh, sorry about that
fact of the day: writing a character created from thin air is one of the hardest things you can do in fanfiction; I hope you guys will like her, or at the very least, tolerate her.
I happen to like her. *hint hint*
Traditional bribery: I am sure no one has reviewed so far...yet it would be a pleasant surprise, don't you think? (suggestive winking)
