by Chewy Walrus, Captain Sammitch and GoozX
The Fish Factory, 10 a.m.:
Rays of light peeked through the draped window of Grissom Montag's room -- an abandoned office in the Fish Factory -- and fell across his eyes, causing him to stir slightly. His mouth opened wide, and a large yawn erupted as he stretched his arms out above his head.
Opening his eyes slowly, he turned to his right, only to be met by the sleeping face of Kat, one of the girls from last night. Glancing behind him, he noticed Maria, Sarah, and another girl named Melanie all resting nude and comfortably. Grissom smiled, remembering his sexual escapades from the night before, and slowly wormed his way out of bed.
Much as he would have loved to stay and see how much more these women would be interested in doing, he had a lot of work to get to. Luckily, Grissom hadn't had enough ales to give him a hangover or a headache last night, or else he'd assuredly be in trouble. Throwing a blanket around his waist, Grissom made his way to the bathroom down the hall. After pissing for a good minute straight and jumping in the shower quickly, Grissom dried himself off and rubbed some styling gel through his hair.
Making his way back to his room with his towel around his waist, Grissom quietly pulled a pair of khaki shorts and a white T-shirt from his duffel bag and put them on in the silence of his room. Kat moaned slightly and rolled over in bed, rubbing the spot where Griss had been lying. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice he was gone, so the man continued to ready himself. He pulled on his tan vest and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders.
Grissom then pulled a pencil and a memo pad out of the old desk that sat in the corner of his room and scribbled a quick note:
Ladies,
Thanks for the great time last night. Hope you enjoyed yourselves. If you want some breakfast, ask the bird guy, Ed or the skull guy, Grimm. I hear they make some mean eggs. Got some work to do, so we'll talk later, I'm sure...
-- Griss
Griss set the note on his pillow and quietly walked out of his room. Phil Smith was probably already en route to Puerta Mibela to work on the headquarters, and Grissom had to go find Charley Montoya and get over there to work.
It was gonna be an eventful day, that he knew for certain.
MBL Headquarters, Puerta Mibela, 1100 hours:
It's a bloody shambles, Grissom Montag lamented silently as he surveyed the damage to the northward face of the apartment building.
"Got that right," Phil Smith said as he walked up behind him.
Grissom whirled around. "Dammit, Smith, stop trying to read my thoughts, or all the telekinesis in the bloody world won't save your ass!"
Phil stepped back and held up a hand. "Easy there, Griss. Couldn't help it. That was a loud thought."
"Can't you put your fingers in your ears or something?" the mercenary asked.
Phil smiled. "Wouldn't help. But I'll try harder not to overhear you, if it upsets you. How's that?"
Grissom relaxed. "You're lucky I got some last night." He looked back at the Hummer Phil had found deep in the caverns beneath La Perdita. "Got anything good in there?"
Phil thought a moment. "Just the new computer."
"Computer?" Grissom raised an eyebrow.
Phil nodded. "An IT contractor owed me a favor, so I collected on it and had them build us a computer core to run the new security systems."
Montag looked at him curiously. "Owed you a favor?"
"Before I came here," Phil confessed, "I was hiring myself out as a... security contractor, you might say."
"Is that so?"
Phil nodded. "I did a handful of jobs aimed at guarding against industrial espionage and sabotage. These were for Fortune 500 corporations, some of them. Not only did I manage to make a fair amount of pocket change, but... well, let's just say that some of those corporate bigwigs are greatly indebted to me."
"Anyone I know?" Grissom asked.
"I'd love to tell you," Phil said, "but I never discuss any of my work in detail."
"Not a good idea," Grissom said. "If we're going to buy into this MBL Consulting business, we're going to have to share at least some information."
Phil shrugged. "Fair enough. I've got a shipment coming in at noon, and I may need a hand getting things transported here."
"A shipment?" Now that got Montag's attention. "Shipment of what, exactly?"
Phil smiled. "You'll find out at noon. For now, I'll just tell you that we need to get the motor pool ready for new arrivals."
Grissom nodded. "We're going to have to start working in the basement level, anyway." He motioned to the Hummer. "Bring that computer in here, and I'll put it and all the valuable stuff somewhere safe. We'll clear out the motor pool sublevel, and then we can head to the dockyards and pick up your shipment, whatever it is."
"Sounds like a plan," Phil said. "Want me to move your tools in there, too?"
"They're in my truck," Grissom said. "Let me get you my keys."
"Thanks, but I don't really need keys," Phil said with a mischievous grin as he headed for the Hummer.
Grissom shook his head as he watched the telepath go. He doubted that anyone would be able to figure him out in the near future.
Suddenly, boots slid across the sandy pavement, sending a cloud of smoke into the air. Grissom turned and noticed Priest. The large man wore army pants with a tank top thrown over his shoulder.
"About time you got here," Priest joked around in a mock serious tone.
"Yeah? You look like shit. Long night?"
"You could say that. I had some work to finish up."
The two men began walking toward the entrance to the subbasement.
"Everything go well, I assume?" asked Griss.
Priest cracked a half-smile. "As good as it could."
"Good to hear. I hope you have enough energy left. It's gonna be a long day."
Priest tightened his fist. "I think I'll manage."