[Delta Green] Operas and Avatars: Convergence

[Maerdwyn]

Solomon thinks for a moment, and nods. "Okay. Follow my lead," he says. The two of them walk our to Rook's car. If Rook is outside the car, fine, if he's inside, Solomon leans down to the window, hand on the window frame (knocking for Rook to roll it down if it's not already). When he speaks, it's level and matter-of-fact.

"All right Mr. Rook. We don't know what you think you know - but you obviously know that we don't want to have your sepculations making the evening news.

"So you have a choice to make, Mr. Rook. The truth is out there. Your choice right now determines whether or not you want to ever have a hope of getting any closer to it than you are right now, or whether you want to go back to working the drunks and frauds beat. You cooperate with us - fully - and you can help us find out the truth of what's going on here, and we can try to stop it. But what you learn is for you and you alone. Not a paper, not your editor, not your lawyer, not your camera: no one. 'Cause if that ever changes, we won't be able to protect you - we've tried before with others and failed."

"You agree to that condition, and to do what we say, and we're cool. We'll use whatever help you can provide, and you learn things that'll make you wish someone would pull the wool back over your eyes. ...But at least you'll know."

"If say no, or if you try to bargain for the right to tell the story afterwards, or give us any reason at all to think you can't be relied upon, that's fine. No hard feelings, and we don't charge you with anything. But we give you a ride back to Knoxville and a plane ticket from there to anywhere in the country you want to go, and you leave Groversville the *CED* behind you with only memories of poor, dismembered, unexplained Fido to keep you warm. You'll never hear from us again."

"So, Jake, what d'ya say?" Solomon's eyes search Jacob's for a read on the guy.

 

[Rhialto]

Jacob looks Agent Brown levelly in the eye. "When I was in England researching Loch Ness, back in the 90s, I made an interesting discovery--there wasn't anything there. There were a lot of tourists showing up, there were a lot of nutters seeing things, but there was NOTHING that justified all the hype. Hype that the British government had encouraged. So I dug a little deeper. Turns out virtually every lake in Great Britain has some legendary monster in it. Most are about shaky as Nessie--but a few--if people were looking for them, they'd realize how well-documented these cases are. But instead they go over to Loch Ness, to scream 'Nessie' every time they see a deer or the water ripple. I went to a few of them--saw some pretty strange things. Eventually, I wound up at this little lake on the Severn River. I didn't see anything there. Not exactly. But I planned on staying a week--and wound up staying a month. Just because. It wasn't that the scenery was nice, or that I was overcome by the charming locale--it wasn't nice, and it wasn't charming. I just--kept puting off leaving. After a month, I realized--I was getting worse. Going to stay by the lake for--long hours. Actively avoiding leaving the region to do little things like getting groceries, and when I managed to do that, keeping it as short as possible. So, I packed my bags, and I left."

He takes a deep breath. "First thing I got was a splitting headache. Next, I broke out into a cold sweat. I wound up in bed for a couple weeks, going through what an outside observer would have confused with heroin withdrawal. And the whole time, I had to fight an urge to go back to that CEDing lake! As soon as I was out of bed, I got a plane and put as much water between me and freaking England as possible. And then I wrote a book about what I learnt. But I did not put that lake in it. Because then people would go to the lake, and whatever there is about that place that makes you stay there would hit them." Jacob frowns. "Understand something, Mr. Brown--I'm not one those spaceheads babbling about transendence, and wishing for the holy aliens to wisk them away. My researches have taught me one thing--there is something out there, and it is old, and it HATES US. Or at the very least, it stomps on us without giving a damn. And if you think I'd do something to send hundreds of wooly-headed twits to this place, this bad place, where they'd run around screaming to have something nasty happen to it--then you don't know me. I believe the public should be warned what's out there--but not given a CEDing map so they can catch a ride." He offers his hand. "So, yes, your offer is acceptable. If you mean it."

 

[taitzu52]

"So what are you telling us, Mr. Rook?" Andrews asks, "About your writing that is. I think that agent Brown made it clear what you'd be up against. And I can safely say, that I don't want that paper trail leading back anywhere near me." He takes a drag from his cigarette, and flashes that fake shark-like smile of his, "Call me selfish." he says, looking back over his shoulder to make sure he a safe distance from the Sheriff and his deputy.

 

[Rhialto]

Rook glares at the man who has, while no doubt trying to 'keep his cover', blown it by repeatedly threatening to kill him. "What I mean, Crockett, is that I know how to keep secrets when there's danger involved, and this place has a giant 'Radioactive' sign on it. It's started something here, and I suspect anyone that get's caught in its path is going to wind up just GONE if they aren't careful."

 

[Maerdwyn]

Solomon sighs heavily, hoping to get these two separated as soon as he can, and straightening up from leaning on the car window. "All right - here's how we're going to run it," He says as he hands rook his card and cell number. "Nothing of significance said over the phones - this place is small enough that we can meet face to face on short notice if we need to. Regardless, we meet up every night to campare notes and plan the next day - more often if we need it. Andrews and I are going to finish up here, with forensics on the way. You want some names to start working on, or do you want to start tomorrow?"

ooc: what time is it?

 

[taitzu52]

"Good." Andrews says to Rook, "That's the attitude that'll keep you healthy. Now go and ask the Sheriff for your gun. And by the way, the name's Andrews." He was beginning to become insulted, but realizing that he hadn't identified himself, it may as well be Kojak.

As Rook goes for his gun like a junky on Heroin Christmas, Andrews takes the opportunity to talk to Brown, saying, "We'll talk to Allen at the hospital, that hand looks like *CED*. Lemme know if you need me to get you another piece." He looks back over at the Hawaiian shirt talking to the mirrored glasses.

Andrews looks around the parking lot, still making sure that the rooms are undisturbed. "The hell's taking forensics so long?" he says, just like he does at every other scene he's been on.

 

[Rhialto]

Jacob glances at the two Federal agents. "Could one of you come with me on this? I'd like the Sherriff to know that this was all a big misunderstanding, and I don't think he'll just take my word for it..."

 

[taitzu52]

"Well now, Mr. Rook," says Andrews, "I thought you knew your rights like the back of your hand." He turns to Brown and chuckles. "We haven't instructed him to press charges," he says, "as long as you're in line with local ordinances, you're OK." He lets Rook out of the car and gives a nod to the sheriff.

 

[Rhialto]

Jacob calmly gets out of the car. "I know my rights fine, Mr. Andrews. But I also know having official approval makes things go a lot smoother, and right now, I want things going as smooth as possible."

 

[Maerdwyn]

Solomon looks down the road for forensics which still hasn't arrived, and then back at Rook. Whatever, he thinks. "All right, let's go," he says to the man. When they get back to the Sherriff, Solomon says, "Sherriff Oakley, Mr. Rook here has satisfied us that he has nothing to o with any crimes committed here. We don't have a problem with him. Did his gun license check out?" he asks the man. Assuming an answer in the affirmative, Solomon says, "All right - he's okay on our end then." He glances down at his own hand. "As you can see, my gun didn't react too well when I slipped on the floor over there - I'm going to need another piece while we finish up here in town - does the Sheriiff's Office have something they can laon to me for the duration - I'd sure appreciate it."