*After he'd hung up the phone, he reached for the papers Ayesha had sat down. Flipping through them, he scowled. Leave it to his recruits to find a case that involved exploding manure. While that was likely incidental, the activity on a whole added up to more.*
0 Comments
Lelani Steele |PF| *Scowling, she pulled into the small parking lot of the headquarters building their GPS units had led them to. Nondescript. In a warehouse type area. Decent coverage of streets and parking. Beside her, Blake was doing the same, inspecting their surroundings and attuning to the area. Since they didn't have badges yet, they couldn't use the parking garage meant for NOLA agents.*
*Sifting through the files in front of him, he let out a heavy sigh. The numbers didn't lie, they'd lost contact with several of their informants, as well as their agents. A few hadn't checked in for over a month now. In normal agencies, that wouldn't be anything to worry extensively about. With his team? Jesus, in a month they could create more mayhem and destruction than the combined agencies of all of Psiforce were able to handle. Scrubbing a tired hand over his face, he shook his head. One more week and he'd have to send out feelers to figure out where the hell his wayward people had gotten off to.*
*This was the part of his job he disliked the most. The constant testing. The checking of his abilities. While he knew it was necessary and would help the soldiers under his command, it was still a time consuming process that took him away from more important endeavors. As he answered the preliminary questions, his mind was further away.*
*Logging out, he ran a tired hand over his face. The thing with psychic abilities is that they tended to come in fits and starts. You'd have a great recruitment one year and then nothing for a decade. This year appeared to be the "great year". They'd just passed one class through basic training. They were being sorted according to their control over their abilities. Any that couldn't hack the job, they'd have a meeting with him. They'd have a choice to make, one he didn't like but needed done. In between that, there'd been another pocket of potential future agents located at a small military academy in Oregon, of all places. He'd dispatched one of the senior agents to assess the situation and keyed in that it was being investigated. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, his last meeting for today.* Sauders, have a seat.
Aryk Larson |PF| *Last night had been another hell night. I normally didn't mind when spirits came to visit me, I just hated when they woke me out of a dead sleep and then just stood there staring. Sighing, I slide out of bed and start heading towards the bathroom when I hear my phone buzz. Odd, usually they don't email me until at least 9:00. Picking up my phone, I frown as I see I have been transferred. It's not unheard of. Due to my powers, I tend to go from one office to another.*
*Sighing heavily, he closed the two manila folders he'd held in his hand. In their line of work, a split second could change everything. Indeed, it almost always changed for the worse.*
*Leaning back, he groaned slightly as he stretched to work the kinks out of his back. He'd been scanning recent reports and checking the underground resources they had. He made a point to go through everything as often as he could. *
Mack Thompson |PF|
*There was no God. He knew this because if there was, he'd have been taken out of his misery long ago. No just God would make a man suffer so. Staring at the envelope like it was poison was simply postponing the inevitable. With a heavy sigh, he sliced open the seal, pulling the contents out to spill across the desk. No accidental deaths so far. Only one small explosion. He could likely spin it as a gas leak, as it was on a yacht in the Mediterranean. They wouldn't ask too many questions. The Israelian prime minister was still breathing, though there were some questions about the "Secret Service" agents' extracurricular activities. Kaleva and Ayesha were taking the new recruits through their paces. They'd soon have a short list for new teams.* Mack Thompson |PF|
*He deftly flipped through the paperwork on the desk in front of him, eyes scanning for the important notes that had been added. They'd received word that something may or may not be set to happen in Reykjavik during a conference on nuclear arms. François Delattre, the current head of security council for the United Nations had moved the thing from the UN building in New York, fearing that many of the Middle Eastern nations wouldn't be willing to come to the country in the current political climate. So they'd settled on Iceland.* |