An Apartment in Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, Saturday Afternoon
If there was a picnic happening in Fandom, then Peter didn't know about it, nor did he care to. The last few weeks had been busy: busier, even, than the weeks that had come before them. He simply hadn't had the time to as much as think of the school, let alone the people in it.
That had lasted for quite a while. Until now, anyway. There was intel he needed, and the likelihood of one of his sources ferretting it out for him was small-- never mind that Bean would probably be alarmed and wind up sending him very irritating emails if he found out Peter was letting go of any information about his whereabouts.
To: Topher Brink
From: P. Wiggin
Subj: A Job For You
Brink, I need your hacking skills. Mail me back to confirm that this is still your email address.
Peter.
He sat back, ran a hand through his hair - it was getting long - and got back to other avenues of work.
[[ the post, however, is open to phone calls and emails from all ]]
That had lasted for quite a while. Until now, anyway. There was intel he needed, and the likelihood of one of his sources ferretting it out for him was small-- never mind that Bean would probably be alarmed and wind up sending him very irritating emails if he found out Peter was letting go of any information about his whereabouts.
To: Topher Brink
From: P. Wiggin
Subj: A Job For You
Brink, I need your hacking skills. Mail me back to confirm that this is still your email address.
Peter.
He sat back, ran a hand through his hair - it was getting long - and got back to other avenues of work.
[[ the post, however, is open to phone calls and emails from all ]]