cat_icon.gif teo_icon.gif

Scene Title Bugger
Synopsis The hilarity of the pun underlies the terror of the moment.
Date November 8, 2008

Wireless Phonecall

Ringtone or vibrate, Cat's phone taps her incoming an hour into the threshold of Saturday morning, though the sky above remains black around the stark relief of the moon and stars.

She's not yet at home, likely somewhere between the Rapture club and Dorchester Towers. Cat taps the earbud cord on her iPhone to answer the call, coming with a generic ringtone, and states a single word. "Yes?"

"Buona sera, signorina." Even without her gift, Teo's voice would be familiar by now. He's fifteen minutes away from Abigail's apartment, by now. For a young man accustomed to traveling the uglier parts of town, fifteen minutes demarcates a longer distance than it might for others. "Do you speak any languages other than English?"

"Oui," the female voice on her end replies. "Je parle francais. Y yo hablo Espanol. Qu'est ce que c'est, Monsieur?"

Teo hates to be racist, but out of those two, he realizes French is less likely to be overheard and understood. Unceremoniously, he switches tracks in the space it takes to blink, though his own eyes barely do, roving the streets as he walks. "Ah, bon. Nous avons un probleme." He rubs his own nose, sniffs audibly. "<Some stranger Alex asked Abby to heal left an electronic device—>" He doesn't know the colloquialism for 'bug.' "<—in her purse. I don't know what it does, or whether she's being followed. It's still there with her and bloody clothes. I think her apartment needs to be watched tonight. Hel isn't answering.>"

This time when she speaks her voice is more serious, focused and almost harsh. Cat continues in French. "Merde! Be very careful what you say around it, don't let on you found the thing in any way. It could be a voice transmitter, or a locator, or both. We can maybe use it for misinformation, to trap whoever placed it, after we learn some things. I'll need to see a photo of it, so I can research. Meanwhile I'll leave word for Stormy. When do you need a watcher for Abby?"

"<Oui,>" Teo answers. He doesn't sound particularly offended at either her tone or instruction, but he typically lacks a defensive quality. Instead, his words continue to be as soldierly clipped as before. "<We didn't speak while I searched her purse and then shut it in her bathroom. I'm going to try to get in touch with Wireless,>" Hana, "<but Hel can probably do so faster.> Je suis desolee: <No camera. But I got a good look. I'll fire you an E-mail.>" A wind picks up; so do his foosteps. Fucking cold. "<Soon as possible.>"

"I'll see to attention being paid to her place," Cat replies still in French. "It may take some time to arrive there, though. Keep watch until relieved?"

Fortunate for the young woman's ear, Teo doesn't make a disgusting noise of fatigue or impending cold virus. "Bien. <I can make a circle. Though I'm probably being followed too.>" Simple, unkind truth. "<I said I would—>" he doesn't finish. Self-explanatory. He gives an address. Not quite Harlem, but a rough place to be: one can almost picture Abby with a Bible on her bedstand and shotgun equally within reach. Then, "Bon nuit, demoiselle."

"Toi aussi, Monsieur," Cat replies. And the call ends.

November 7th: Killing Business
November 8th: Confession
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