by TheTimeTrust
Pete "the Chimp" Glover left his apartment and shambled off to the main office, looking around as he went and calling, "Li'l Jooooo... Li'l Jooooooooo... where ya at, Li'l Jo?"
"Mreow!" mewed Li'l Jo as he ran out from under Shirley's desk, almost immediately rubbing himself against his pants legs, marking his territory.
"Hey, Jo. I gots some grub in one'o muh pockets, bud."
At that, Pete started scrambling through all the pockets he had, his pants pockets, shirt pocket, and overcoat pockets, tossing everything onto the rug in front of Shirley's desk: an empty cigarette pack, a few Mandelovian coins, a few wads of string, an empty aspirin bottle with no cap, a nail-clipper, a comb with most of its teeth missing, wrinkled boxer shorts, a few nutshells, a couple of rolled-up wads of fifty U.S. dollar bills, some gum, and finally a handful of Whiskas Cat Food.
"Here y'go," he said as he tossed it on the ground. Li'l Jo, the one-time alley cat, began purring as he devoured the dry cat food pieces. "Found it in the food locker."
Pete looked up to see his boxer shorts walking toward him with mechanical-looking legs. "Hello, whut's all this, huh?" He took his boxer shorts, stuffing them back in his pocket, and saw there a small mechanical dog.
"Hello, I am T5 and I need--"
"Ho, a talkin' dog! I read 'bout those things. Hey, ya wants some dog chow? I think I have some in m'apartment. I kin go gets it if'n ya want."
"I'm pretty sure that would be bad for this body, but thanks anyways."
"Ya sounds pretty smart fer a talkin' dog. You go to college, b'y?"
"Uh... no. Anyways, I'm here about a problem..."
"Problem, b'y? Well, ya cames ta the right place, then. Here, le's go ta my office," Pete said, leading T5 toward the maintenance room.
Shirley Francis came back from her bathroom break and walked over to her desk. Then she looked up... and down at the rug... at the mess... on the rug... HER rug... her BRAND NEW RUG THAT WAS JUST DELIVERED AN HOUR AGO... in front of HER desk.
Li'l Jo continued to purr contentedly as he looked up at the MBL Consulting secretary.
A vein seemed to be growing on her forehead as her face went red and threatened to pop at any second. "PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTTE!"
From: travesty47@yahoo.co.uk
Date: June 9, 2002 12:47 PM
To: Croup, Vandemar and Mayhew
Subject: Re: Progress Report
--- Croup, Vandemar and Mayhew <no5not86@email.com> wrote:
> Your last report was somewhat lacking in concrete
> information on our targets. Please do try and
> infiltrate the zone ASAP. But under no circumstances
> should you be caught. If worse comes to worse, you
> never knew us. Your Cayman Island bank account will
> be
> waiting for you.
>
> Frankly, our patience is beginning to run out. We
> will
> expect a detailed report from you within 24 hours.
>
> James Vandemar
>
>
Dear sirs,
A tall stranger wearing a robe stepped inside this morning as I began my seventh day of observation. He has not left as yet; it is possible that he came here to find employment, although this is pure speculation on my part.
The target known as Tobias Christopher or "T.C." re-entered the building shortly afterwards. The motion detectors I placed along the far end of the island placed his velocity in the realm of 700 kilometres per hour, though I believe he is capable of much greater speeds, given preferable conditions.
A second stranger, this one appearing to be no more than a mechanical toy dog, also stepped inside the target zone. It is not yet known whether this toy is being remote-controlled or whether there is some manner of intelligence inhabiting it. Further details will follow as I glean them.
The targets are preparing themselves for a bit of an outing, as there has been a great deal of excitement following a telephone call from an Uruguayan mining company. I expect most of them to have left by late afternoon, at which time infiltration shall commence. The fat one and the woman will, of course, remain behind, but they pose no problem.
Regards,
~Griffin~
WHOOSH!
"HeyguysI'mgoingtothestoreyouwantmetopickyouupanything?"
It took a few moments to register what Tobias Christopher had said, but Danny Hearn and Mick Harrison finally said, "No, thanks."
"OkayseeyasoonguysI'mlookingforwardtothis!"
WHOOSH!
"This is strange," said Danny.
"What's strange?"
"Mick, have you noticed how cheerful Tobias has been lately?"
"Not really, but I'm glad to hear it. Sure a lot better than him brooding all the time. Remember at Christmas how he told us about that little kid he knew when he lived on the streets was murdered on Christmas Day, and that Christmas was, like, the worst day of the year for him or something? God, he could be depressing."
"His personality really has changed since we first met him." Daniel Hearn frowned as he stared at the open doorway through which Tobias Christopher had left.
Mick laughed. "Yeah, for the better."
"I don't know about that," said Danny thoughtfully. "Remember how he came to join up with us? A couple of government agents raped and murdered his girlfriend Rebecca. That's not something you get over all that quickly."
"I dunno. Maybe he's just finally come to terms with his loss."
"Hmm. Maybe. I just hope that's the case. Hate to see what happens if T.C. represses his true feelings for too long. Could lead to something virtually devastating. As it is, he's seemed sort of absent lately, like he's running on auto."
"I wouldn't worry about it," said Mick, shrugging. "He's probably just found himself a new girlfriend."
Danny didn't answer, but continued thinking about it. Perhaps the Caribbean climate and easy living really had had a good effect on Tobias, who had grown up in poverty all his life. But somehow he couldn't leave it at that. He decided to keep a close eye on Tobias. Right now he needed a friend, whether he knew it or not.