[TM] Moving On...
Lauren had left the small confines of the Courtyard Marriot in Connecticut a month ago. She waited until midnight for Julian to return, and when he didn't she simply assumed that his mind was still distracted elsewhere. She had more than a slight inclination as to what exactly he was distracted by, and she wasn't about to play second to another woman again. It only took her a few days to clear her apartment out completely, and place most of it back into storage. She had two years of planning behind her and a single setback wasn't going to phase her in the least.
She had another apartment across down in lower Manhattan that was already prepared for her to simply move in. Sliding the key in the door and shifting her bag again over her shoulder she sighed lightly shutting the door behind her. It seemed almost as if her life had returned to normal, or at least as normal as it had been after her death. Julian it appeared was merely a blip on the radar, and she didn't want to let her past haunt her anymore.
Walking into the apartment she heard the sole of her shoe brush against paper, glancing down she saw an envelope simply with the letters A-84 written by hand. Setting her bag on the couch that she had rented for the six month lease along with the apartment she returned to the floor and picked up the envelope. It felt thin, but she knew that not everything was all encompassing in her line of work. Sometimes all you needed was the smallest detail.
Tearing the edge of the envelope she lightly blew into it watching the small slip of paper rattle a bit before she let it drop into her palm. The paper had a series of numbers along with cooridates and possibly an access code to something that she wasn't yet sure of. Taking the paper over toward her office she wiped the thin layer of dust off the desk and laptop and popped it open watching it flicker to life.
Most everything was on a ghosted hard drive that was locked behind a private firewall, so even if someone had checked in on Miranda House's apartment they would have simply found an art dealer's home, complete with all her recent acquisitions and sales. Most of them actually brokered by the real Miranda House. A few keystrokes though and Lauren Reed accessed her hidden data and started to try and make sense of the slip of paper that had been discreetly sent her way.
She knew that only two people knew of her difference residences, and only one of them actually had the mental capacity to guess where she was headed next. She had to assume that the same note had been left at several addresses because Julian... Julian wouldn't have known she was gone yet. This was purely the work of a man that had not a single notion of where she was headed, and McKenas was at least consistent.
The series of numbers referrenced an old DSR file. Pulling it up, it seemed that regardless of Rambaldi's great Prophecy there were still a few parts left over at the end of it all. Like stray nuts and bolts left over after you build anything. This was referencing an artifact that was part of a private collection. The reference didn't pull up exactly what the artifact did, or if it was part of a larger puzzle, but that was mostly due to the owners unwillingness to part with it.
It was part of a private museum within the Wayne Manor, which was actually a fairly well known collection of antiquities and the like. Sighing Lauren entered in the final series of numbers accessing an off shore account that undoubtedly had her payment waiting for her once she got the artifact. The amount wasn't something to laugh at, so she sent a simple text verification over the wire and accepted the job.
Gotham City wasn't too far from Manhattan and she had been wanting to get out of the house and have some real fun anyway.
She had another apartment across down in lower Manhattan that was already prepared for her to simply move in. Sliding the key in the door and shifting her bag again over her shoulder she sighed lightly shutting the door behind her. It seemed almost as if her life had returned to normal, or at least as normal as it had been after her death. Julian it appeared was merely a blip on the radar, and she didn't want to let her past haunt her anymore.
Walking into the apartment she heard the sole of her shoe brush against paper, glancing down she saw an envelope simply with the letters A-84 written by hand. Setting her bag on the couch that she had rented for the six month lease along with the apartment she returned to the floor and picked up the envelope. It felt thin, but she knew that not everything was all encompassing in her line of work. Sometimes all you needed was the smallest detail.
Tearing the edge of the envelope she lightly blew into it watching the small slip of paper rattle a bit before she let it drop into her palm. The paper had a series of numbers along with cooridates and possibly an access code to something that she wasn't yet sure of. Taking the paper over toward her office she wiped the thin layer of dust off the desk and laptop and popped it open watching it flicker to life.
Most everything was on a ghosted hard drive that was locked behind a private firewall, so even if someone had checked in on Miranda House's apartment they would have simply found an art dealer's home, complete with all her recent acquisitions and sales. Most of them actually brokered by the real Miranda House. A few keystrokes though and Lauren Reed accessed her hidden data and started to try and make sense of the slip of paper that had been discreetly sent her way.
She knew that only two people knew of her difference residences, and only one of them actually had the mental capacity to guess where she was headed next. She had to assume that the same note had been left at several addresses because Julian... Julian wouldn't have known she was gone yet. This was purely the work of a man that had not a single notion of where she was headed, and McKenas was at least consistent.
The series of numbers referrenced an old DSR file. Pulling it up, it seemed that regardless of Rambaldi's great Prophecy there were still a few parts left over at the end of it all. Like stray nuts and bolts left over after you build anything. This was referencing an artifact that was part of a private collection. The reference didn't pull up exactly what the artifact did, or if it was part of a larger puzzle, but that was mostly due to the owners unwillingness to part with it.
It was part of a private museum within the Wayne Manor, which was actually a fairly well known collection of antiquities and the like. Sighing Lauren entered in the final series of numbers accessing an off shore account that undoubtedly had her payment waiting for her once she got the artifact. The amount wasn't something to laugh at, so she sent a simple text verification over the wire and accepted the job.
Gotham City wasn't too far from Manhattan and she had been wanting to get out of the house and have some real fun anyway.