(Evie - Security Walkdown, Monday Morning)
"All right, let's get started," the Chief says. "This is Agent Moss, with the Secret Service. We'll be doing a walk-down of the property, securing areas and identifying other concerns. If there's something you think is getting overlooked, speak up."
The Chief beams. "Moss, these are my best people. Detective Evie Cartwright is one of our best investigators. Officers Carson, Patterson, and Anderson are patrol officers I'd put up against the best in any city."
"Good Morning," Moss says. "We have blueprints of the building, of course, and we'll point out areas that are no-go or which should be locked up tight. All of you will be extra sets of eyes for tomorrow. So, we'll have uniformed Secret Service officers using detector wands on guests. If someone trips those off, we'll move them to one side and do a more thorough check ..."
"Hey," Saul smiles, elbowing you gently. "You need help cleaning up your place, holler, 'kay?"
As Moss moves on towards another part of the tour, his speech temporarily ended until they reach their next destination within the Club, Evie smiles and whispers quietly, "I'll definitely need you to help me with sofa shopping. They did a number on Ol' Gaudy. I don't think re-upholstering will save him."
Saul nods in mock seriousness, "He was a good sofa. We shall keep a pillow in memory!"
Any further talk between the two subsides, though, as Moss leads the group into the main hall where the president will be giving his speech. The agent moves through the routine, pointing out checkpoints and where security will be stationed and giving everyone a rundown of how the president will be moved from one place to the next.
As they walk, Evie is looking for any windows that would allow for a good shot to be placed, someplace that the Secret Service might not immediately peg as a danger. After all, history seems to indicate that most shootings would happen during the speech or as the president is entering or leaving the building. But, she's not counting on Fenris to do the usual. No. He wants to make sure this thing is done. If that means picking off the president while he's walking down a hall, then that's what he'll do.
It would have to be a window with a clear, unobstructed shot along a path that they know the president will take, if such a thing exists*.
*It may well be that he'll be using fully interior hallways, so it might not be an issue.
he President's appearance will be in the main dining room, overlooking the golf course. The club manager explains that the President's helicopter will land on the expanse of lawn between the clubhouse and the greens, a nice open area not unlike the lawn of the White House. The buildings on the Strip are on the wrong side, and the treeline bordering the course can be secured by patrols. Not to mention there's the fence line on the extreme edges of the property.
Agent Moss outlines procedures, showing you how President Warner will enter and depart the building, as well as an alternative egress in case of emergency - out through the kitchens and to a waiting armored Chevy Suburban and escort.
It all seems perfectly routine and ship-shape, except for the President standing at a podium within sight of the treeline. A long shot, perhaps, but one didn't become the top World War II sniper by phoning it in.
Once the tour is over, Moss hands over blueprints of the facility, "That's about it. You know the drill. Take a look around, see if you spot anything that looks amiss. If you find something, you report back to me. Clear?"
"Yes, sir," Evie says as she accepts a copy of the blueprint.
Chief nods and turns to his team, "Alright, folks. You know what to do. I'll see you all back at HQ." Trusting his team to do their job, the Chief leaves to get back to sorting through all the tasks that have undoubtedly been building up on his desk while he was away.
"You heard the Chief. Let's start poking our noses into stuff," Evie hands out copies of the blueprints. 'Now, my first concern is that podium. It's right within sight of the tree line. I know, I know...someone would have to be a crack shot to make that. But, we don't take chances. I'll walk the treeline and make sure nothing looks funky."
"The rest of you, poke around. I'll be doing the same thing after I check outside. Wheeee, looking for strange stuff!" she chuckles. She doesn't feel the need to list out all the things that they should be checking. These are people she's worked with for a long time and trusts. They know their jobs.
In regards to the podium, Moss nods. "I agree ... but this is one of those things where politics wins out over common sense. If we move the podium, either the President is back-lit and hard to see, or he's staring out the window into the sun and squinting, which the press office hates."
On your way outside, you examine the glass. It's standard plate glass with an anti-glare film on it. A single shot would go right through it, unlike a botched hostage rescue in Sacramento, California where the thick glass doors starred but did not shatter, causing the bad guys to execute several of their hostages.*
You drop a pin on your smartphone's map before realizing you won't need it. Thanks to the All-Father, you have an intuitive grasp of the distances involved.
You note the expanse of lawn where Marine One will land. Someone should go over the ground with a rake, just in case someone's tucked a surprise under the sod. You commandeer a golf cart and ride out to the tree line.
It's a sniper's paradise. Plenty of cover, and a direct line of sight to the clubhouse. The closest point is not the best angle, however, and you make a note of a better spot. You can explain it without having to say anything about paranormal Nazis and Norse legend - just your experience in law enforcement, and hoping Agent Moss agrees with you.
But there's something else. With everything riding on this moment in time and space, you're certain that you wouldn't stake it all on a single shot. You'd have a backup plan ...
Evie returns from her search and reports to Moss, giving him the coordinates of the spots where she feels that any attack would most likely originate.
After that, she decides to take a leisurely stroll through the club house itself...and to check the podium, specifically. It's one point here where it is guaranteed that the president will be that she can access. If she were going to store a surprise, that's where she would put it.
However, she's not limiting herself to that. She plans on checking every nook and cranny, even if it means taking all day. She'll not ask her fellow officers to stay beyond their allotted time but, she will, if necessary.
The podium is of a free-standing design that leaves no opportunities for 'surprises', although you trace the microphone lines to the house sound system, even checking the mats laid over the cords. Nothing.
You check every room, every nook along the secondary egress, following it out through the kitchen. There's a neatly printed note taped to several spots, reminding kitchen staff that this specific area will be cordoned off and inaccessible for the duration of the President's visit.
And then you see the boy. Jeans, short-sleeved cotton shirt, tennis shoes. He's looking at you, quizzically, and points towards one of the rooms along the corridor ...
A kid? What's he doing here? Evie thinks for a moment. Then, she remembers...two boys disappeared. Could this be one of them in some form or another?
She moves to where the boy stands and glances down the hallway, making sure that she is alone. Very softly, she asks, "Hey. What's your name?"
However, she doesn't stand long. Instead, she moves to the room the boy indicates, hoping that he'll follow along. She tries the door...
The door is open. It's a small interview room with a table and several chairs, but little else.
"I'm Jacob Warner," the boy says. "You can see me! I knew you were special! You don't work here. Are you a Secret Service agent?"
Evie steps into the room and makes a small head gesture to Jacob, indicating he should follow her in. As his small body slips past her, she shuts the door to give them some privacy. If she keeps her voice low, perhaps anyone who does notice her speaking will think she's just mumbling to herself.
"No, I'm not Secret Service. I'm a police detective. My name's Evie and it's pleasure to meet you, Jacob," she smiles at the boy, assuming that he must be a ghost rather than a bleed-over from some other reality. If he's familiar with the staff, it would mean that he's been here a long time. And the invisibility thing. That would be a big hint, too.
"What happened to you?" she asks. Even as she speaks, her eyes are flitting about the room and she keeps an ear open for other people moving about in the hallway.
"Troll," Jacob says, looking down at the floor. "I was walking home, it was summer, so we were allowed to go out and play after dinner. It grabbed me and brought me out here, tossed me in a ditch. I knew things had broken, but then ... then he started shoveling dirt on top of me."
"So I can show up here, and show up at home, but no one can see me. Until you came along. You glow. Like some of the others, but not the same way, I guess. There's a blonde lady who shows up a lot, and one time she was with another guy. Some kind of business thing. Oh, and Justin. He's like me."
"A troll? Yeah, one of those got a cousin of mine, as well. They're a nasty lot," she gives Jacob a sympathetic smile.
She gives the boy a serious, appraising look, as though she is considering his abilities, "There's something bad that's going to happen here, tomorrow, and I'm going to try to stop it. That blonde lady who glows and the man she was with? They're going to try to kill the president and that's going to cause a whole chain of terrible things if they aren't stopped. Do you think that you could help me? I need someone here that no one else will notice to watch what happens. Warn me when the bad guys show up. Do you think you guys could do that?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" the youthful phantom says. He may be aware of the changing times, but the manners learned in his 1950's childhood shine bright. "There are a couple of guys in the kitchen who don't look right. They don't glow, but they ... don't feel right."
"I think it's where I'm buried, Ma'am," he says quietly. "Not that you could get to me without digging way down."
"Ah," Evie sighs softly. "I'll make sure that we find your body. Not sure how I'll justify digging this place up, but I'll get it done. I'll do the same for Justin. I should find him and talk to him, too, to find out where his body is."
She knows that this child has been alone for so very long and she should just be talking to him about...stuff. Being a friend while he waits to see if Evie and the team can free him. Hell, maybe even bring a board game and play something. She could move his pieces for him. On any other given day, she would do just that. But, not today. There's too much at stake and not a lot of time to prepare.
"Jacob, what about the men you saw in the kitchen? Do you know their names? Are they new to the club?" she asks.
"Frank and Johnny, but they're not from Chicago, if you take my meaning, Ma'am. It's like the movies - if you ask them who won the World Series four years ago, they're not going to know, because they're Nazi spies or something," Jacob says. "They've been here two, maybe three months. But I know something's fishy, because they don't look right. They don't glow like you and the other woman, almost the opposite."
"Einjehar," she says grimly. "They're dead warriors who have been summoned to help the other side. They're like tools, though...they're not good or bad. They just fight for whoever performs the proper rituals."
She gives a short snerk of amusement, "If they've been relegated to kitchen duty, I'm sure that's rankling for them, though. But...I'm sure they've been cooking up more than pastries and muffins. Let's go check the kitchen to see what's what. Maybe we'll run into Justin along the way."
"Oh," she turns to Jacob as she lays a hand on the doorknob, "I'm sure you know this already, but I'm not going to talk to you if people are around. I'm afraid they would just think I was nuts since they can't see you. But, I'm watching and listening, okay?"
"Okay. It's a secret!" Jacob smiles. He's a good kid, and a reminder of what's at stake in the battle to prevent Ragnarok. "They're not cooks or wait staff. They bus tables and do dishes. I bet Justin is in the dining room. He likes to read the newspaper over people's shoulders."
Jacob waggles his fingers to explain why the boy would be shoulder surfing.
Evie can't help but laugh at that. The little scamp! No doubt there have been plenty of people coming through the club who, unbeknownst to them, were just a teensy-weensy, slight bit sensitive to the spirit realm. And those people get to experience heebie-jeebies as Justin merrily hovers over their shoulders.
"If we see Justin, tell him to follow along and I'll talk to him when we are alone," Evie finds herself still chuckling softly at the idea of Justin and his harmless prank.
The detective makes her way down the hallway and to the dining room, intent upon going to the kitchen and looking around. However, she will also check the dining area. After all, if the einjehar have been busing tables, they've had plenty of opportunity to set something...she doesn't know what, yet...up in that area.
It's so blatant that it's like a punch in the face. The two Einjehar might as well be wearing signs, though to all appearances, they are diligently attending to their assigned duties. As Jacob described, there is something 'off' about them, like a haze making them seem indistinct, even though regular spirits - even Edward McCain - have appeared to you normally.
It doesn't make sense that they would be there to slip something beneath a table. But if the sniper's shot were to go awry, the President would take the alternate route ... through the kitchen, and into an ambush. Fenris is stacking the deck.
You ponder what to tell Agent Moss, if anything.
Huh. Well, what do I do about this? I can't very well tell Moss about the sniper or these guys. How would I have any information about a sniper? If I said anything, I'd just wind up in detention which would keep me away, tomorrow. And, my saying something wouldn't even guarantee that he would act on it before confirming it. With the DA involved, there would be no confirmation of it, either.
I can't just point out the busboys and say, 'Believe me, they are bad spirits.' And, it's not like they have done anything wrong. I have no reason to investigate them.
As she thinks, Evie wanders into the kitchen, intent on looking the place over for anything else amiss. Hopefully, the einjehar will simply go about their tasks, for now. She can't imagine that they would jeopardize their position by attacking her, at this point.
Is there some excuse I could manufacture to convince Moss to have the kitchen and dining staff replaced with his own people? she muses as she opens cabinets and peers inside. Eh, he'd never agree to it. It would take too much time and money to ship down staff from DC. And, with the fund-raiser happening, they are going to have to have civilians to serve food and drink.
Shoot. I think this one may just be something for Team Scion, she frowns, unable to think of a good way to manipulate Moss into adjusting security. Any problem she suggests will be considered too unlikely or too expensive/inconvenient to warrant moving on.
With me being part of security, I can probably finagle being close to the president during his speech. Since I know the attack is coming and where the attack is likely to come from, hopefully I can intercept the bullet, inwardly, she winces at that thought. Alex would be a better fit for that since he can heal himself, but there's no way he's getting close enough. There's no evidence she can heal but...you do what you have to do.
Maybe we can put a couple of the Furies on patrol around the tree line. And, if Lya and Alex are in the dining room, hopefully they can handle those weird einjehar, she makes a mental note to mention them to Lya and Alex. Perhaps they have some explanation for why they appear different.
And, I have the added advantage of an invisible spy. Well, unless the einjehar can see Jacob...which they might, being dead themselves. But they don't know that I can see them. Perhaps with Jacob and Justin running lookout at the tree line and the kitchen, we'll have forewarning.
"Justin? Justin! Hey, Squirt, where are you?" Jacob calls out.
"Over here, Jake," calls a younger voice, but there's confidence and knowledge behind it.
You see a smaller boy, dressed in his Sunday best, waving to you from the dining room entrance.
"You're Detective Cartwright, Ma'am?" he asks. "I was hiding under the table and listening in. The President! That's cool!"
Evie moves toward Justin and gives him a wink as she passes. If he was hiding, then he also knows about their secret, that she won't speak while in the open. She walks down the hallway and back towards the empty meeting room. Opening the door, she finds it still vacant. But, she expected that. Today being what it is, not many people would be using the club while the secret service secures everything.
Once both boys have entered the room, she smiles at Justin and says, "Yes, I'm Detective Cartwright. And, it actually is pretty darned cool, I agree."
She chuckles and continues, speaking quietly, "So, if you were listening then you already know everything I told Jacob. I've looked over everything and there's no hard evidence that anything will happen out of ordinary, tomorrow. While I know what is going to happen, there's nothing I can tell the secret service that they are going to believe. So, it's all going to come down to a secret team...that you are now part of."
Evie looks between the two boys and continues, "There will be two other people here, tomorrow, who are like me. They'll glow. One is a man named Alex. He has light brown hair, is a smidge taller than me and will be wearing a black scarf. The other is a woman named Lya. She's much shorter than me, with black hair that has a white streak and she has grapevine tattoos. Now, Alex will be able to see you, but Lya won't."
"I need you two to be extra eyes and ears, letting us know when you see things that are strange. Now, I know that there will be a sniper out in the trees, tomorrow. Can either of you go as far as the trees?"
"I think so," Jacob says. "Let me check. Come on, Justin." Both boys blink out of sight. A moment later, they reappear.
"We can, but ... it's the edge of the property, and it feels weird," Jacob says. "I think we do better closer to where we died."
"Yeah, but it's the President, Jake!" Justin says. "What's a sniper?"
"It's like going hunting," Jacob tells the other boy.
"Oh. That's bad," Justin frowns.
"When do you want us out there, Ma'am?" Jacob asks.
"I just need one of you there and not for the whole time. You don't even have to be all the way out there. You just have to be able to see the treeline well."
"I need to know when the bad guy with the gun shows up. You would only be there when the president goes out on the lawn for his speech and then come to me immediately when you see the bad guy," Evie says. "I know it feels weird and I wouldn't ask you to do it if it wasn't important. I just need to be able to narrow down when I'll have to act. I'm going to be trying to move faster than a bullet, after all."
"I need whoever stays here to watch the kitchen and dining room. If you see anything weird at all, go talk to Alex. I'll tell him about you, tonight, so that he knows who you are and will expect to see you. But, just like now, he probably won't be able to talk out in the open. Just tell him what you see."
She gives the boys a gentle, grateful smile, "You two have no idea how much you are going to help and how much I appreciate it. If I could hug you, right now, I would!"
The boys nod.
"This is neat!" Justin says.
"Uh-huh," Jacob tells him. "It's just like Dragnet."
They wave, and then run off. They pass through several people on the way out.
Oh, well, Evie thinks with exasperated amusement. She had been going to ask Justin where he was buried, but that can wait. The two may have been dead for several decades, but they were still boys.
Refocusing, Evie moves to trace out the alternate escape route, looking for anything else that may be amiss. More than likely, there won't be any physical evidence, at all. After all, Fenris has a Nazi sniper set up outside and strange einjehar waiting inside. He probably figures that is enough without leaving something for the Secret Service to find. Still, Evie checks. Because...Evie.
As she pokes around, she rolls options over in her mind, Trying to block a bullet after the shot is going to be nigh impossible*. Maybe if I see the flash, that will give me enough warning but...highly doubtful. Maybe I should walk the perimeter, tomorrow? I know where the most likely places he'll set up are. But, there's still no guarantee that I'll get to him before he places the shot. I can only be in one place at a time. If I set up at one spot, he'll just move to another. And, I sure as hell am not going to ask other officers to make this walk with me. I'd just end up with dead friends...
I'll talk to Lya and Alex, tonight. Maybe they'll have some ideas.
After an hour or so of poking about the property, Moss seems satisfied.
"Well, then. We'll see all of you tomorrow morning," he smiles. He nods. "I know. If you're new to this, your head may be spinning with what-ifs and maybes. There's a lot we can rule out simply because we're on the ground in numbers, and that raises the bar for the bad guys. Every nut and kook who flaps their gums on social media, or who goes on a mad shopping spree helps us identify risk factors and establish strategies.
"Our people will be vetting media starting at 6AM. We'll muster at 8AM, have a quick chalk talk. Staff members arrive no later than 9AM, doors open at 10:30. President arrives at 11:30, lunch, some brief remarks, and we're done."
Evie sighs inwardly. Normally, Moss would be right. But, this time...not so much. She wishes that she could share what she knows but she simply can't think of a way to frame the information that won't get her detained or wind up sounding crazy. Oh, well...
She makes note of the schedule for tomorrow. Though she technically doesn't need to be here until 8AM, she decides that she'll probably show up at 6AM. Can't hurt to be early and prepared.
The rest of the team starts to leave the club house, probably all headed to lunch before continuing the rest of their day patrolling. Evie waves and calls good-byes to her fellow officers as they disperse in the parking lot. All except for Saul, who still walks by her side, escorting her to her car.
"So, what do you think about tomorrow?" he asks.
"Well," Evie answers carefully. "No one found anything strange. You and the boys did a bang up job of making sure everything is secure. If something goes wrong, it won't be because we slipped up, I can tell you that." She shakes her head and laughs, continuing "But, yeah...it's going to be a circus. These things always are."
"Ain't that the truth," Saul chuckles and turns slightly, so that he is walking backwards while he talks to Evie. "You want to head out for lunch?"
"I'd love to, but I need to do some research for a case," Evie counters with a smile.
"Oh, come on! You're off duty until tomorrow. We can hit that new Mongolian barbecue place," he stops and gently grabs Evie's head in his hands. He leans in close to her and says, "Stop. Working. For like...10 minutes. Come eat with me."
"I'd love to, Saul! I really, really would! But, I think this is probably the best time of the day for me to do it. If I wait until later, then my resources are going to be unavailable," she replies.
As he lets go of her head and sighs in exasperation, Evie reaches out to rest a hand softly on his chest, an idea occurring to her, "But...I think I might be around for dinner. How about we get take out and you come over to the Westview with me? We can sit in a posh bed, eat, and watch Sharknado 3."
"The Westview?" Saul raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Evie laughs. "It helps that I'm friends with the CEO. Since my apartment is a mess, she's putting me up until it gets sorted. What do you say?"
"I do believe, ma'am, that we can call that a date!" Saul takes her hand in his briefly, giving it a squeeze. "I'll see you, tonight, then."
He lets go and starts to stride off towards his cruiser. As Evie opens her car door, she hears him call out from a couple rows over, "Hey! Evie! Evie, Evie, Evie!"
"What?" she laughs.
"I've got a joke for ya."
"Oh gawds...okay, what is it?" she laughs and leans against the car.
"Why do you never hear a pteradactyl go to the bathroom?" Saul asks, his face split in a goofy grin.
"Why?" she asks, amused.
"Because the "p" is silent! Hah!" Saul immediately starts laughing at his own joke, the color high upon his cheeks. The sound is like music to Evie.
"That's awful!" she calls back, though she, too, is laughing. Giggling, she waves at him, "Just go, you! Get out of here. The p is silent...pfft!"