Mystery Girl (Fall 2009)
Vinny de Paglia; December 2, 2009
Okay, so Jackson has Eidetic Memory. He and I had spoken before the end of game about setting him down in front of a law enforcement sketch artist. I imagine I could probably rent such an artist for the amount of time needed. Please let me know if that is, in fact, possible. Overall, I'm looking to be able to have a really good image of at least one of the guys responsible.
That effort is, of course, combined with the attempted data retrieval off of the stolen security hard drives from the hotel.
Any information that I am able to get, I send off into ShreckNET both to get the word out and also see what people may have to say about these guys.
In general, I'm keeping my eye on the news and looking for any sign of more of these Federal type gentleman.
What I believe Jackson meant to say, is that he has Eidetic Memory, and he then had a guy talk to another guy, who in turn relayed seeing this 5'8" blond gentleman back to the first guy and then back to him... losing a lot of eideticness in the process. However, as I'm feeling generous right now, I'm going to arrange it such in UnMasqued-space such as that Samuel Johnson can talk to guy #1 again, who can then talk to guy #2, who will in turn be willing to chill with a sketch artist you hire for a clean $50 an hour.
You get a mostly okay shot of your blond mystery man and post it to the dark recesses of SchrekNET with a brief description of shennanagins, making sure to hit up your Kindred Allies who actually jive with what you're trying to do most of the time and don't just post the word "DESU" repeatedly to your newfagish requests. While alienoid8762 is still sore about the terminal that burned out in the game of hack/counter-hack a few Fridays back, he passes the image and the story to a guy who knows a kid in DC who claims to have dealt with this sort of thing before. The anonymity of the vampire Internet, however, makes it hard to verify his claims.
"Shit man! If you're dealing with blacksuits, don't waste your time going after the ones you can see. This man = nobody. The real deal is probably back out several blocks on radio. Probably on the radio with some other guy on the radio a city away. Some fucktard who better be rotting in Uncle Sam's security vaults wised them up in the 90s to some mindtricks that the night people can play and they aren't going to waste the inexpendables on punks like you."
"If you're alive, they probably aren't out for blood yet. If you find this fuckface he'll probably tell you as much. (Also if you find this fuckface can you kick him in the nads for me?) The trick is to lay low in the mud until they bag whoever they're after.... and isn't that always the way with us? Shit. I learned this the hard way back in '06, and I have a dead broodmate to show for it. Change positions. Keep low. Don't try to fight back unless there's a black bag inches from your skull. These fuckers are "reasonable" if you're willing to play their version of the Masquerade game and not holler too loud about how they used your habeas corpus as toilet paper.
You get a lot of random hits from the trolls claiming that this man is a proud member of the Lemon Party or that they saw him with your mother the other night in an act of allegedly humorous fornication. The picture's generic enough, though, that you wind up getting an e-mail box full of tips that could possibly be reasonable, but that you don't have time to follow up on. Maybe he's a political pawn of the Sheriff of Philly? Maybe he's some stooge that runs a crooked narc operation out in San Antonio? Maybe he's a Malkavian ghoul named Teddy from out in East Las Vegas who just pretends to be an FBI agent.
You suspect that you don't get a lot of people who have current information on this guy, as this guy is in New York, and as most of your homeboys in New York don't go topside frequently enough to see the friendly FBI men wandering about. You stow away 6N0t@nUm3R6's insight on the issue somewhere in the "Not Entirely Fucking Useless... Maybe" file for the time being, however.
As for the tapes you meet with some immediate frustration in reviewing them. It appears somebody already did a bit of freelance editing on the hotel records. It's quick. It's sloppy. But it leaves you with a lot of blackspace and very few shots of the enigmatic men in black you're after.
You post it to your friends on SchreckNET, however and manage to find a guru named chixdiggit who's mad at the editing. He manages to find the two frames that stuck around at the edge of the biggest blank and magnifies, clarifies and polishes up a pretty good set of .PNGs for you.
Two guys. Black suits. Black shades. Exceptionally non-descript boring corporate hair. One has a beard. And they're escorting a buzz-cut sporting pale chick who looks like she stumbled out of the Age of Aquarius. (Long flowing linen robes. Weird pendant of some sort.) Even in the two stills you have, she appears to carry herself with a VIP sort of flair.
You lean on your sketch artist again to better clarify the faces of beardy-in-a-suit and not-beardy-in-a-suit and then pay him overtime to do a masterful job on the obvious girl of the hour. You repost for more results and find that the two suits get about the same results as blond-and-5'8"-in-a-suit, somewhat unsurprisingly. You're smart enough to figure that they aren't the main prize, however.
A few evenings before Elysium you get what seems to be something solid on the girl for once. Something that doesn't reference her participation with another girl in sundry adventures involving "1 cup" and that seems like the enigmatic sort of wack-job hint that might for some reason begin to point you in the right direction. It's anonymous and comes from an IP that Czkerz3t13 tells you got routed through China to mask it's origin.
"Star Council. 70 dead. 5 miles outside Bucharest. Don't fuck with her. You won't live it down."
Trolls don't make shit like that up off the cuff. You file it under 'Probably useless... but worth a fucking try."