David Riedmaier (_machiavellian_) wrote in at_the_gates, @ 2011-01-13 01:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | david riedmaier |
Being in love too isn't comfortable but I'm trying my best.
Who: David (_machiavellian_) [Narrative]
What: It's not a competition, but I think they think it is. I cover for you, you cover for me - maybe we'll make it out okay.
Where: A Natural's home.
When: October 2009
Warnings: N/A
What had happened was quite obvious before he even stepped out of the elevator. The door was already ajar and the stifling, eerie silence was offset by the sound of his footsteps resonating down the corridor. They had the decency to come by in the middle of the day when most people were out working, or at school - the Library thought about the disturbances and inconveniences they would cause to the general public in planning their mission, but clearly they had no consideration for the inconveniences they were causing for the Merchants.
It was a valuable asset they had taken away from a mundane existence in a small apartment. It did look like an altercation had taken place, but they came here solely for the person so the place was not ransacked and nothing else was taken.
David was first on the scene. He was usually unofficially first on the scene because he had to be. Because as ironic as it sounds, it was his job to save, or at least try to preserve, a very fragile dream that was continually threatened by the very existence of the dreamers themselves.
He walked through the living space, a keen eye looking over everything that blended in a little too well and stood out in too subtle ways. No photos around so, not a family man. Prescription medicine lying around - presumably for the 'visions' he would have complained to a psychiatrist about - and unopened letters suggested that he might be slightly disorganised, but the number of locks on the door, the fact that he bought his newspapers and magazines instead of subscribing; he was careful. Disorganised but cautious - they were traits that didn't always go hand in hand.
But David was not as interested in the lost asset's leftovers as he was in the Library's leftovers. The dreamer was a Librarian after all, not the target. The latter could always be reacquired or replaced at a later date.
The tips of gentle fingers brushed over and rested on the hole in the wall. A bullet hole, to be precise, and David knew that it would easily be traced back to a certain Beretta M9 - one of the unavoidable cons of making certain modifications to a weapon. He glanced up at the ceiling and looked around, hand still fixed on the damaged portion of the wall.
Concerned members of the public were the ones who dialed the fire department and the police when they saw smoke and flames emerging from the apartment's window. There was too much public attention now and it was a little too late for the Merchants to send someone in. Nothing could be salvaged in this fire.
A black operation, then. But surely not. David had been in his office in Progressive Integrated Solutions headquarters the entire time. In fact, he's on the phone right now - who with doesn't matter; of course it's work-related - if you don't wish to leave a message, you'll have to make an appointment and come back at a later time.