The hunt begins
It's been one of those days.
Dinah's out in the field. Hasaragua to be exact. She'd gotten a tip about left-over Soviet military gear (and who knew there was still any of that around) stored in an abandoned military facility. Normally she'd check into it and alert someone else to take care of it, but her informant had also told her that some ( Read more... )
Dinah's out in the field. Hasaragua to be exact. She'd gotten a tip about left-over Soviet military gear (and who knew there was still any of that around) stored in an abandoned military facility. Normally she'd check into it and alert someone else to take care of it, but her informant had also told her that some ( Read more... )
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Dinah woke up safe and comfortable in the JSA headquarters, only to be informed by her best friend in the entire world - a best friend, incidentally, whose name she doesn't know and who she's never actually met - that she was going to catch the next plane to Hasaragua.
She'd crept through the jungle, risking tree-related scratches on her bare legs that in her old costume would simply have nicked the fishnet. She'd tracked down one of the trucks carrying goods to this promised arms fair. She'd stumbled into the armed goons guarding the goods.
She'd dealt with them so quickly she almost felt embarrassed for them. Especially when she had to fake snoring so their colleagues don't realise they've been knocked unconscious.
It's not until the truck comes to a complete rest at its final destination that she realises there's been no style-cramping orders coming from her earpiece in a while now.
"Oracle? You listening?"
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"Oh. Hey. Yeah." She's waving for Tim and Ted behind her to be quiet.
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...was that another voice. Was that a male voice?
"I heard voices. Is someone there with you, Oracle?"
And is Dinah going to be filled in with all the vagueries later?
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"Is this important?" As if Dinah would call if it weren't.
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