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Trev

"Do I even want to know the damage- good God, what did you do to the bellhop?" the man was swamped by boxes of various sizes.

"I also got a massage," she informed me, "You should get one."

I stood in shock as no less than four bellhops came in, carrying boxes of various designer brands. Only the last one came in carrying the stuff I needed, "I think it would have been cheaper if you bought the mall itself."

They were so exhausted they didn't lookup as I handed them fifties for a tip. I felt like I was shorting them for the amount of stuff they carried.

She pulled out dress and held it to her body, "What do you think?"

"I think my brother wore more cloth at one time," I answered.

She looked confused, "Oh... kay."

"Of course, he was my little brother and in diapers at the time," I remember exactly how much cloth goes into a dirty diaper.

"Very funny," she scoffed.

"I didn't say 'don't wear it'."

"Pig," she shot back, a slight smile on her face.

"Right, help me set this up. I don't want to unleash the bubonic plague on Miami," I said.

Ten minutes later...

I can't believe it. We built a functional(at least, as secure as we could get) air-tight specimen chamber out of black tarpaulin, duct tape, rubber gloves I stole from a maid, and the glass table in the room. Even then, all I did was duct tape the plastic to the underside of the table to create a view glass, punch two holes for the rubber gloves and duct tape them closed, and two smaller holes for the microscope lenses.

While I did that , Lyn air-tightened the room. No sense in letting half of Miami die if we fuck up.

"This might take me awhile," I said, "See if you can get a bug into that homicide detective's office, maybe even the CSI lab. I don't wanna be hit by a curve ball."

"You think they can get something?"

"CSIs are like Intel weenies," I explained, "They can do a lot with a pile of dirt," I should know. I spent around a month living in one of the most advanced crime labs in the country. Thankfully these guys aren't as good as the Squint Squad.

She shrugged, "Okay, not like I have anything better to do," she grabbed her purse and headed out the door. I secretly admired the view of her ass, cursing myself at not being able to do anything about it.

I grumbled as I took a swab of the Petri dish in the chamber and placed it on a slide, and slid it under the microscope.

"Well this just gets weirder and weirder."


Lyn

I once questioned the amount of contacts Trev has in Miami. His answer was to begin counting on his fingers and toes.

When he ran out, he used mine. He still ran out.

Well, these guys are good, cause I just called one of them, and he gave me a couple of small bugs the size of quarters, plus a transmitter that repackaged the data and sent it to an IP address. Now if only he would brush his teeth.

Breaking into a police building is an embarrassingly easy thing to do. Mostly because they're built more on keeping specific people in than out. You just have to not be one of those people.

A printer, plastic covering, and janitor overalls is an all access pass. Just leave the gun in the car.

I kept my head down and below a red ball cap, using my hair to frame my face. I looked like a another faceless janitor pushing around a cart. Which was exactly what I wanted.

Bugging the homicide detectives office was easy. He was talking on the phone when I did it.

"So, wait, he got knocked out, woke up, sneezed, and then he died?" hmm, apparently Trev didn't kill that guard.

I just stooped down, planted the bug, dumped his trash, and then went on to take all the trash from all the detectives to maintain cover.

He was the only one to say thanks. Man, janitors have it bad.

I made my way up to the CSI lab for a repeat.

When I got there, I was slightly appalled by what my tax dollars were going to.

For one thing, since it was all glass where the hell am I going to put this bug? Secondly, how the hell did they get all this past tacky American bureaucracy? NCIS HAS ORANGE FREAKING WALLS!

I grumbled and just pushed my cart, looking for a place to plant the bug.


"Wow, the British sure are persnickety," Ryan thought as he flipped through the file that recently arrived from the British consulate, "They got ballistic reports, trace evidence reports."

"Seems the Germans aren't the only thorough people," Natalia laughed. When Ryan and Erick looked at her funny, she quickly explained, "Inside joke, between me and Calleigh."

"Oh... Kay..." Ryan said, "Now, this happened in Bristol, which is in south-west England. The victim was a Jonathan Fogley. He was a real estate developer with suspected ties to drug families in Italy. His car was hit by a projectile like the one Calleigh recovered and he was killed by a gunman with an automatic weapon. Here's the picture recovered from a traffic camera."

"We're looking for a murderous Hello Kitty," Natalia quipped, in observation of the mask the suspect was wearing. She passed it to Erick.

"It's... It's eyes," Erick held the image at a different angle, "They look..."

"Evil?" Natalia offered.

"Very," Erick agreed.

"The weapons used by this guy was different," Ryan noted, "The weapon used in Bristol was a 9mm submachine gun. The slugs recovered from H's car were 7.62mm NATOs."

"Different weapons," Erick stated, "But they both had a 40mm underslung grenade launcher, which was used both times."

"They even did a psych profile on the guy," Ryan read from the file, ignoring the janitor dumping the trash, "Let's see, 'Addicted to violence, methodical, college educated, intelligent, calm under pressure, regimented, probably has abandonment issues, military experience'."

"Sounds like a recipe for success."

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