[Delta Green] Operas and Avatars: Convergence

[Gomez]

Jacob Rook
Early October, 2005
Southern California


Jacob Rook stood outside his home in a pair of brown shorts and red and white Hawaiian shirt looking at his mailbox. A thick glass with ice and bourbon tinkled in his left hand. His mailbox was unusually full today. Junk mail, bills, and assorted correspondence, and a rectangular package. The package was wrapped in brown construction paper and about the size of a VCR tape. The address is written in a thick black marker. The return address is a P.O. box in Groversville, Tennessee. Groversville? Hmm, isn't that the place that has been a hot bed of UFO activity? But from everything he has seen and heard out of there had been nothing but crackpot ideas and faked videotapes and photographs.

 

[Gomez]

Richard Andrews
Early October, 2005
Washington, DC

It has been almost two months since the Highway 70 case and Agents Richard Andrews hands had just stopped shaking a week ago and those dreams..nightmares really had gone away as well. His body was healed as well just a few faint scars remained.
His partner Agent Solomon Brown and him had been working on a pretty mundane theft and smuggling ring and last weeks arrests had busted the whole operation wide open. Things had returned to normal. "Yeah right!" thought Andrews "When hell freezes over!"
Andrews sat down and lit another cigarette. He began to thumb through today’s mail. "Bill, Bill, Junk, Junk, and...What the *CED*?" Richard stared at a white envelop with just the word Andrews & Brown written on the front in a neat hand written cursive. No address, stamp, nothing!

 

[Gomez]

Solomon Brown
Early October, 2005
Washington DC

Solomon was working out hard at the local gym used by the FBI agents here in Washington. The gym had a contract with the government so it didn't cost Solomon a dime as long as he worked out on a regular bases. For the past half-hour or so he had been eyeing a pretty red head that was running on the treadmills just across the room. She had glanced his way a few times and even smiled once. Suddenly his cell phone rang. It was in is shorts pocket. Dang, I hope it isn't work. He had the day off.

 

[Maerdwyn]

Solomon smiles back, deciding to concentrate on pleasant things unless the phone forces his thoughts back to work. Hell, maybe it's just Mom. Crap what day is it? Her birthday is...okay, no, I got a few days left. Pulling the phone out, the inbound number doesn't look like his mom's, though. His smile wavers just a bit as he flips it open. "Solomon Brown..."

 

[taitzu52]

Indeed it has been back to the old routine. More paperwork, more inane phone calls, more of the glamorous life of an FBI agent that those TV producers never seem to capture in those "real crime" dramas. Only real change is that Andrews has been spending more time at the shooting range, and keeping that service sidearm as clean as a whistle. He considered Jujitsu, but for Christ's *CED*ing sake, that's no game for a guy pushing 50. At least he's getting some sleep these days. That'll all come to an abrupt end, he thinks, the day that.....

He picks up the letter and holds it up to the light, just like Brown would want him to. "*CED*" he says, "here we go." He puts the letter down, and calls Brown on his cel phone. "Showtime, kid. I've got a letter with your name on it. And I'm not at the office. Meet me at the Ruby Tuesday in North Arlington." The banality of his life comes creeping back ever so slightly as he grabs his coat, his cigarettes, and his gun, and heads out the door. And then, with letter in hand, it's gone.

(OOC- Solomon's a popular man today. Did this letter come to my house or the office? I'm assuming that it's my house, smoking, bills, etc.)

 

[Gomez]

Solomon

Solomon hears a series of clicks and then a woman's voice comes over the phone. "Mr. Brown. We have those opera tickets that you requested. I hope you enjoy the show." The line then goes dead.

 

[Gomez]

(OOC- Solomon's a popular man today. Did this letter come to my house or the office? I'm assuming that it's my house, smoking, bills, etc.)

OOC: You are at home. It's a Saturday and you and Solomon are off today. You can give him a call. I bet you will find him at his Gym!

 

[Gomez]

OOC: BTW! Welcome back! I missed you guys!

 

[Rhialto]

Jacob Rook
Early October, 2005
Southern California


Jacob Rook stood outside his home in a pair of brown shorts and red and white Hawaiian shirt looking at his mailbox. A thick glass with ice and bourbon tinkled in his left hand. His mailbox was unusually full today. Junk mail, bills, and assorted correspondence, and a rectangular package. The package was wrapped in brown construction paper and about the size of a VCR tape. The address is written in a thick black marker. The return address is a P.O. box in Groversville, Tennessee. Groversville? Hmm, isn't that the place that has been a hot bed of UFO activity? But from everything he has seen and heard out of there had been nothing but crackpot ideas and faked videotapes and photographs.

Jacob stared at the package uneasily. "So," he announced to no one in particular, "we have a package, about the size of a tape, sent from Groversville, the *CED*ing Loch Ness of America Flying Saucer activity. There are only two reasonable conclusions--assuming you use the same definition of 'reasonable' that I do, which I freely admit is not often the case--A--This is a tape sent to me by one of my legions of fans, which originated in Groversville, or B--This is a bomb, sent to me by one of my legions of nonfans, which they would like me to think originated in Groversville." He picks up the package carefully, then takes it to his car. Assuming it doesn't explode, he drives into town, walks into the local cafe, orders an omelette, and after dousing it liberally with catsup, and eating it, opens the package.

 

[Maerdwyn]

"*CED*," Solomon breathes as he clicks the "End Call" button. With a friendly nod to the redhead if she happens to be looking, he picks up his towel and head to the the locker room wiping his face and head. He goes to call Andrews, but stops in the middle of dialing when the call from his partner comes in at the same time. After listening for a moment, "Okay, Ruby Tuesdays, say, twenty minutes. By the way, I got a call about two minutes ago saying those opera tickets we'd ordered came through; just in case you weren't sure."