being able to help others do the same.
"Finally," Duane said, "this is the exact same shit we've been trying to get through to you guys this whole time." Rachel nodded in agreement with her partner.
"Now, if you would all please pay attention," she noted crisply, producing her signature notepad from a pocket. "Duane and I performed some basic reconnaissance of the area while you all were 'discussing' our options." She flipped a page. "Paul's Pub is a local establishment with a colorful reputation. I believe you would commonly call it a 'dive'." She actually made the air quotes for emphasis.
"It is part of a block of older businesses in the heart of Downtown. The owner, Paul Blanchard, lives in the rooms over the bar and has a history of being a sympathizer to various 'White Power' hate groups."
"In other words, the guy's a classic profile for a Hog, either a member or someone willing to help them out," Duane noted with a look of disgust. "That's not ironclad proof though."
"The curious thing is that, last week sometime, Paul's hours of operation changed," Choi read off from another page of her book. "Formerly opening at 1 pm in the afternoon and staying open until 2 am, the establishment now opens at 7 pm and is open all night, closing at 5 am."
"Verily, that dost show the nocturnal proclivities of these monsters we hunt," Archer noted. "Is that not cause sufficient to swoop in like the hawks of justice that we are?" It was no surprise that Extinguisher was the first to answer that.
"No, it's not," he was quick to point out. "It might be in your neck of the woods, but in this town, law and order are still important concepts."
"Shush, the both of you," I interjected. I looked to Rachel and Duane. "You passed all of this along to PART, right?" The Pushed Action Response Team was the Atlanta Police Department's hastily assembled answer to the Push problem. They were well-meaning but hopelessly out-matched and under-funded, but that didn't mean ignoring PART was the best move. Sometimes just having official backing could make something go easy instead of hard.
"The boys in blue are setting up an observation on the place but I don't think we can expect any real back-up on this," Duane noted. "We do have the official nod to keep looking into it on our own, though."
"Well, boysss and girlsss, if Mind'sss Eye'sss third eye can't get a clear look insside, then sssomeone hass to go in, right?" Medusa said. "We don't have that many choicesss as to who play'sss that role."
"Very true," Rachel nodded. "The five of you are obviously out. Even if you weren't locally famous, you're still quite obviously Pushed."
"I could remove mine armor and cleave into this den of iniquity undiscovered, Ms. Choi," Archer suggested, tapping his helmet. "None outside my compatriots in the Crusaders know the face behind this helmet."
"Assuming you could stop the Renn Fest speech for a bit," Extinguisher couldn't help but point out. Before Archer could take affront, I interjected.
"That's not even an issue," I corrected. "The Pulse would make you before anyone gave a crap about your voice." Rachel nodded in agreement.
"Indomitable is absolutely correct, Mr. Archer," she said. "I am certain you could pass as 'normal' visually without your Pushtech, but it remains that you are, elementally, Pushed and therefore a transmitter of the Pulse." She flipped to an early part of her notepad. "As we have seen many times in the past few months, the impact of the Pulse cannot be hidden and it cannot be controlled." The Crusader let out a brief sigh of disappointment and settled in his chair.
"Very well," he said. "I will simply remain content keeping a watchful vigil from the skies. Mine sensory gear can keep sharp watch on any brewing danger from within the public house."
Duane looked at Rachel a moment. She nodded at him in response to some unspoken communication, which caused him to
"Finally," Duane said, "this is the exact same shit we've been trying to get through to you guys this whole time." Rachel nodded in agreement with her partner.
"Now, if you would all please pay attention," she noted crisply, producing her signature notepad from a pocket. "Duane and I performed some basic reconnaissance of the area while you all were 'discussing' our options." She flipped a page. "Paul's Pub is a local establishment with a colorful reputation. I believe you would commonly call it a 'dive'." She actually made the air quotes for emphasis.
"It is part of a block of older businesses in the heart of Downtown. The owner, Paul Blanchard, lives in the rooms over the bar and has a history of being a sympathizer to various 'White Power' hate groups."
"In other words, the guy's a classic profile for a Hog, either a member or someone willing to help them out," Duane noted with a look of disgust. "That's not ironclad proof though."
"The curious thing is that, last week sometime, Paul's hours of operation changed," Choi read off from another page of her book. "Formerly opening at 1 pm in the afternoon and staying open until 2 am, the establishment now opens at 7 pm and is open all night, closing at 5 am."
"Verily, that dost show the nocturnal proclivities of these monsters we hunt," Archer noted. "Is that not cause sufficient to swoop in like the hawks of justice that we are?" It was no surprise that Extinguisher was the first to answer that.
"No, it's not," he was quick to point out. "It might be in your neck of the woods, but in this town, law and order are still important concepts."
"Shush, the both of you," I interjected. I looked to Rachel and Duane. "You passed all of this along to PART, right?" The Pushed Action Response Team was the Atlanta Police Department's hastily assembled answer to the Push problem. They were well-meaning but hopelessly out-matched and under-funded, but that didn't mean ignoring PART was the best move. Sometimes just having official backing could make something go easy instead of hard.
"The boys in blue are setting up an observation on the place but I don't think we can expect any real back-up on this," Duane noted. "We do have the official nod to keep looking into it on our own, though."
"Well, boysss and girlsss, if Mind'sss Eye'sss third eye can't get a clear look insside, then sssomeone hass to go in, right?" Medusa said. "We don't have that many choicesss as to who play'sss that role."
"Very true," Rachel nodded. "The five of you are obviously out. Even if you weren't locally famous, you're still quite obviously Pushed."
"I could remove mine armor and cleave into this den of iniquity undiscovered, Ms. Choi," Archer suggested, tapping his helmet. "None outside my compatriots in the Crusaders know the face behind this helmet."
"Assuming you could stop the Renn Fest speech for a bit," Extinguisher couldn't help but point out. Before Archer could take affront, I interjected.
"That's not even an issue," I corrected. "The Pulse would make you before anyone gave a crap about your voice." Rachel nodded in agreement.
"Indomitable is absolutely correct, Mr. Archer," she said. "I am certain you could pass as 'normal' visually without your Pushtech, but it remains that you are, elementally, Pushed and therefore a transmitter of the Pulse." She flipped to an early part of her notepad. "As we have seen many times in the past few months, the impact of the Pulse cannot be hidden and it cannot be controlled." The Crusader let out a brief sigh of disappointment and settled in his chair.
"Very well," he said. "I will simply remain content keeping a watchful vigil from the skies. Mine sensory gear can keep sharp watch on any brewing danger from within the public house."
Duane looked at Rachel a moment. She nodded at him in response to some unspoken communication, which caused him to
Similar Books
