Alec Hardison (alec_hardison) wrote in omega_reality, @ 2011-11-06 07:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | *complete, 2011 11, character: eliot spencer, dead: alec hardison, dead: parker |
RP: Hardison arriving
Who: Hardison, Parker and Eliot.
Where: Boston, then the base and Parker and Eliot's house.
When: Sunday Afternoon.
Summary: Hardison arrives and is reunited with his team.
Boston hadn’t turned over any information on where Parker might be the first second or third time he’d looked so honestly he doubted that the third time would do him any good. But he was here on a simple job, watch the office, track the security, make a visit and clone a security badge. Very simple stuff. But boring and there seemed to be a severe lack of interesting jobs since the team had broken up, but without all of their combined skills there simply wasn’t as much to offer.
So now he was a glorified security guard for the night. But at least he was in his van and had enough orange soda to last almost a lifetime.
He was taunting someone in a chat room about their downright wrong views on the best Star Trek captain when a light flashed in the van. The Internet was gone and the monitor was fuzzy and god damn it. After thirty seconds he still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with his computer or his phone and frustrated he glanced back at the screens. The building looked quiet, which wasn’t right because there should have been a patrol out the front.
Climbing out of the van he glanced around, feeling like maybe he’d been in an enclosed space for way too long because everything looked different. He’d searched the outside of the van for anything to interfere with the signal and he was climbing back into the van when there was sting and he was falling with only Lucille to catch him.
When he woke up the ache in his head informed him Lucille had not done a very good job of saving the day.
The room was empty and Hardison stood up, walking once around the outside. His pockets were empty and his bag was no where to be seen. “What is this? Locked up, no rights, drugged, no phone calls. Is this because I’m black? Because my brothers won’t stand for this treatment, stamping all over the rights!” He called out to the closed door. “Come on, FBI guys, can’t we talk this out?”