What the hell did she do last night? Or who? Brigitte woke up feeling fuzzy and sore, but with her clothes still intact, although the ugly blank in her memory hinted at Rohypnol or worse. Cursing, she staggered to her feet, and checked the clock, furious but focused on her job. Just enough time to track down Jeffries. Good. Then she'd backtrack ( Read more... )

Ring.

Please ring.

Ring, damn you!

Thinking hard at the phone doesn't make it ring any faster. Especially about certain plans that might be in effect. In case anyone was wondering. Parker couldn't seem to stop herself, though.

[for a very specific set of guys, then open!]

Parker was currently communicating with Dr. Marc Jeffries. She'd been e-mailing him all day long, and he'd finally checked his damn e-mail, and she'd been able to convince him to meet her on AIM.

( IM conversation between an incognito investigator and a skeptical microbiologist. )

Parker returned Jarod's phone call as soon as she was back in her room. It gave her a little space to not-think, and try not to replay the events of the afternoon in her head.

( Then she wrote to Angelo. )

Two identical e-mails were sent. Angelo didn't CC: either party, for reasons too complicated for him to verbalize.

TO: [catchmeifyoucan@yahoo.com] [eric.weiss@fandomhigh.edu]
FROM: demonico@thecentre.net
SUBJECT: Parker

Stop Parker. Baltimore. Today.

Rumor bad!

Nightmares bad.

NOW.

Angelo

One last check to make sure she had everything. Gun. Protective shield from Irulan. Mask from Spy Tech class, as well as a longer-haired wig-- Sam's words at the spa about DNA testing having sunk in, hard. Cellphone, in case, in case....

Her hands were shaking. They always did, when she was this keyed up.

Parker considered taking her own advice ( Read more... )