So the cops in the Paracrime unit finally found the bug I planted.
You may recall that during my last altercation with the Paracrime Unit, Evergreen City’s own jack-booted anti-parahuman squad, I planted a needle-sized listening device called a KOMA probe on the flak vest of one of their troopers. (see posts Paracrime in your face Part One and Part Two, 2/23/05) Any audio feed from the bug got converted to an MP3 file which I could listen to at my leisure in the Secret Chamber. Most of the feed from the bug was garbage, but I’d occasionally glean some useful intelligence from it; enough to keep me from stumbling into anymore police dragnets anyway.
Well, those days are over. Tonight after work I’m kicking it in the Secret Chamber, listening to the latest feed from the bug while I surf the Web, and I hear the following exchange:
COP: Captain. Captain, take a look at this.
(Then a voice I recognize as Capt. Solomon Sledge comes on.)
SLEDGE: What’s up, Sergeant?
COP: I did that counter-surveillance sweep like you asked and I found this on Lucas’ vest.
SLEDGE: Let’s see… What the hell? This a bug or something?
COP: Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. I think it’s KOMA technology, powers itself by absorbing ambient heat. It’s very high end – NSA uses them.
SLEDGE: It transmitting right now?
COP: Uh, yeah, I don’t see why it wouldn’t be.
SLEDGE: That son of a bitch… The Velvet Marauder must have planted this on Lucas at the Masonic Temple. That was in – shit, that was the end of February.
COP: So he’s been listening in on us the whole time?
SLEDGE: Tag it. I want the lab to look at this, Bobby.
COP: No problem, Captain.
SLEDGE: Wait a second.
(Then I hear Sledge’s voice very loud and close to the probe. He’s talking to me now.)
SLEDGE: Okay, Marauder. You’ve had your fun. But know this: play time is over. Don’t doubt for a second that we are going to run your ass down, because we will. And I’m going to be smiling when I ship your ass off to The Catacombs.
And that’s it. Oh well, it was good while it lasted. Now I have to go back to looking over my shoulder every time I patrol at night.
“Play time is over?” He’s got the tough guy clichés down pat, doesn’t he?