InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Not my daughter, bitch!"

the inestimable irene adler . iris thorpe (nightmrholmes) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-02-28 23:17:00

Entry tags:

irene adler, jim hawkins

Who: Russell and Iris
What: Nefarious doings. Also known as talking.
Where: Russell's apartment, #705
When: Before Micah's most recent post, and before Iris went to work that day, so probably about noon.
Warnings: None, I promise.

The situation with the tracker was becoming a serious liability, even after Shane so politely returned it. It was, obviously, impossible for her to simply abandon it in a gutter or flush it down her toilet, but she needed to deal with it in some way. Having it weighing down her purse was only slightly better than having it attached to her ankle, she resented its existence. Fortunately, she knew of one personage who might be of help to her.

Russell didn't know Iris was in the building. Russell didn't know what Iris looked like, since in their previous face-to-face meetings (three, no, four) she had taken the time to change her appearance so drastically that he didn't even know what her height and weight was. This time she wasn't bothering with disguises, since his confusion would be considerable enough when she showed up at his door. She'd known he was in the building before she even moved in, and he was hardly subtle unless he was doing something illegal.

She wondered if he was going to actually get off his computer chair long enough to answer the door. He'd better. Her ankle hurt and all she'd done is hobble down the hall and get in the elevator.

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themegazord
2010-03-01 07:57 am UTC (link)

Russell was quite liking his new stint in the wonderful world of this Bellum Letale, regardless of the ups and down every other loser was stuck flailing about over this person and that guy. Even after the landlord was unceremoniously fired, he didn't see a slowing down of anything, not even with rent. Ergo, he decided there was nothing to worry about. As he hadn't had a chance to do anything spectacular online for weeks since he moved in, the itch for a challenge prickled at the back of his neck.

Deep in an intelligent argument about whose cranium was harshly shoved up whose gluteus maximus while engrossed in a game of Modern Warfare 2, the can count was up to three and he was hoping the pizza would get here by the fourth when he heard a knock at the door. "AFK guys one sec one second!" he yelled to both the screen and the door. Clad in jeans and a 'HAN SHOT FIRST' tee, he bounced over to the door and opened it. "Hey I got the mone--WOAH, you aren't who I was expecting," he greeted the pretty woman at the door. His brain fizzled for a moment as he stared at her for a moment before managing to utter, "...uh, pizza?"

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nightmrholmes
2010-03-01 11:04 pm UTC (link)

"Not even close," Iris said, leaning on the single crutch that paired the sleek red tennis shoe with the stocking'd foot held awkwardly off the floor. "Turn off the game, MZ. We need to talk." Iris refused to refer to him by his entire nom de guerre, but sometimes she conceded with the acronym. She had a suspicion that she was probably the only person to do so.

Without bothering to wait for an introduction, she clumped awkwardly in past him, crutch first, the thick all-purpose gray wool coat fluttering after. She always found it amusing that the hacker resembled a befuddled football player more than a retiring, light-shy stick figure; it put something in the way of appearances and why they were not to be trusted.

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themegazord
2010-03-02 03:25 am UTC (link)

MZ. Very few people knew him by that name and he took great care to make it so. Even less would remotely attempt to address him as such to his face, knowing the risks both would be taking. Only one person had the confidence to take said risk. His attention was given to her fully now, though he did need to keep his eyes off her...presence first. Locking the door and shutting off the game, he followed her back to his living room.

He lived modestly despite the amount of cash he owned. Any sense of luxury was to be found in his ramped up computer and flatscreen display. "So Iris, we meet again." Russell gestured to the relatively clean couch for her to relax on. "What's up?" Hopefully a job. He had been so bored.

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nightmrholmes
2010-03-02 04:22 am UTC (link)

Iris took the couch with every evidence of ease, leaning the crutch aside and putting her feet under the table. She could make the conversation captivating enough for him to forget the small detail temporarily. Besides, she had a sleek tight skirt on that stretched in the most interesting places, tantalizing when paired with a tasteful blouse and jacket. She wanted MZ's attention entirely on her, and not on why she was here or why she was hobbling.

Leaning forward without answering, she put the tracker on the table. It was a slim dull black model, palm-sized and shaped in an uninspiring square with one tapering edge. There was a clear place on the backside of it that marked where the attachment had been removed, an attachment that probably secured it to an ankle. There was an unremarkable serial number on the bottom, and as far as appearances went, that was all.

Iris crossed her legs and waited.

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themegazord
2010-03-02 05:07 pm UTC (link)

Like the dumb jock who was really an experienced hacker or the patient con woman masquerading as a cheeky librarian, the simple little box was anything but. Instantly snatching up the offending item, he gave it the quick once over, his eyes scanning over it similar to a computer with a an encrypted file.

"Tracking device," he started, "Correctional Tracking Device, model 573-2x. This is big league stuff, something the local law enforcement couldn't afford to get their hands on if they tried. Too expensive for their meager funding. I'm betting Federal. And if I'm right..." he paused in his assessment, walking over and flipping off the light. He moved it close to one of the now dark walls, a dull red glow from a blinking LED appearing before he flipped the light back on again. "It's still on. Now the only thing I can't figure out from the little box is why you have it," he finished, placing it back on the table.

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nightmrholmes
2010-03-02 05:59 pm UTC (link)

Iris smiled a smile of butter and chocolate. Very impressive, as usual. If the boy couldn't identify what the thing was without some professionalism, she was certainly not going to let him have it, even temporarily. An amateur would probably go at it with a Phillips screwdriver and have grim men in dark suits knocking on her door within a half hour. "That part doesn't matter," she answered to his final assessment, glancing down at the annoying little thing. "What I do want to know is where it's transmitting to--I want a location. It won't be far, probably within five miles. There may be a base and more than one portable device, or not. I need to know how many people I'm dealing with and where they are." She raised an eyebrow. "Without compromising the device, of course." It would certainly be a challenge, and she knew that would be as much of an enticement as anything else.

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themegazord
2010-03-03 05:27 am UTC (link)

Russell wasn't so much a professional at his work as he was a smug bastard with a high IQ, never missing an opportunity to show it off such as now. "It won't be as easy, since I'm assuming you don't want the signal disrupted and then your 'friends' finding out. At best I can give you the location and how many other devices are reading this tracker. The who, well, once I get the location I can see who owns the location and any purchases made from there. My expenses are the same as always and I'll need the tracker itself for one day." He waited for her answer.

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nightmrholmes
2010-03-03 09:38 pm UTC (link)

"I can handle the who once I get the where," Iris said, with casual certainty. She took her arm back from the edge of the couch, sliding it along in a lazy cat-like stretch, uncrossing her legs and stretching them, too, ankles first. "As for your expenses... well. I happen to be under a budget." She smiled, an amused, reassuring smile this time. "Considering our previous," pause, "relationship, and my recommendations thereafter, I was looking for a favor this time, Russell." That was his name, and not the acronym. She rolled it along the outside of her tongue expertly, dropped it between them without special significance. "It's a private matter, and I don't want it all over the blogosphere." She raised an eyebrow.

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themegazord
2010-03-05 06:22 am UTC (link)

Bzuh? Russell was having a hard time concentrating. Iris never failed to earn that Pavlovian response from him, short circuiting his magnificent brain to only hearing a few words: 'relationship, recommendations, favor, Russell.' Everything else sort of disappeared into the magical ether that was a horny boy's attention span. Blinking, it took him a moment to speak. "Uh, yeah sure I can do you a favor, I like favors." What was he thinking again?

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nightmrholmes
2010-03-05 06:49 am UTC (link)

"That's sweet of you," Iris said, softly. She smiled, and that beckoning skirt hitched on one knee as she pulled her legs apart and (with admirable grace, given her condition) she gained standing position, suddenly brisk in her usual style. "I'm not in horrific hurry, but I do need that by morning after next. I'll be by to pick it up, then. Don't rot your brains on that thing, MZ." She nodded at the computer set up as she retrieved her crutch and started hobbling toward the door.

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