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xp_logs2006-04-28 02:51 pm
x-tarot.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2006-04-28 02:51 pm
Opening Salvo: Eureka!
Amanda comes for a visit to Doug and Angie's hotel room to get them out and about for dinner, but Doug cracks the files, and gets the goods, but... Pete and Remy are in Lancashire, where ever -that- is. No one has any curry, at least not today.
Amanda's hotel room had become Research Central during her time there. Books and papers covered every available surface, including half the bed: she argued she was small enough that she didn't need all that space. The pile of Stuff To Go Through, however, had been rapidly dwarfed by the pile of Stuff Done, and still there was nothing. Hints, but nothing substantial - the pile of papers Pete had collected couldn't have been any more random if he'd tried.
With a sigh Amanda sat up from her sprawl across the bed, rubbing her eyes. Time for a break, at least before she started seeing double. Grabbing her room's keycard she headed across the hall to the room Doug and Marie-Ange had been installed in - Pete had agreed that having the three of them close together was a good idea, particularly if Doug turned up anything on the recovered iPod. Tapping on the door, Amanda called:
"You two decent in there? Break time."
Without looking up from where he was engrossed in the information he'd dumped on his laptop from the iPod, Doug called out "Angie's decent. I, on the other hand, am fantastic, amazing, and other superlative adjectives." He grinned as he continued to poke and prod at the laptop, encouraging it to divulge the files' secrets to him.
From the other side of the closed door, all Amanda could hear for a moment was a quiet -whump-, and an oddly exasperated sounding giggle. When the door opened, Marie-Ange had an entirely too innocent look on her face, and Doug was placing a small, very round squashy stuffed pig on the bed.
With a good-natured roll of her eyes, Amanda came in and flopped into an armchair, first checking to make sure there wasn't a pile of paper on it - she'd started dreaming piles of paper by now. "Good to know someone's having fun," she teased. "I'm just about ready to throw the towel in on this whole research thing. Nothing's jumping out at me and I swear I found one of Rom's shopping lists the other day in all that, which goes to show just how random that pile is." Blowing blonde hair out of her eyes, she looked at the other two hopefully. "How're things going your end?"
"Doug has not resorted to profanities that I do not know yet..." Marie-Ange started. "And that is the first time I have had to throw things at him." She looked over her shoulder at Doug, already back at his laptop and frowned. "I think it is time for a break, and maybe to see if room service has food. Or if there is somewhere nearby..."
"I'm voting for out, but that's only 'cause I've been here long enough to have had everything on the room service menu. Twice." Amanda gave Marie-Ange a grin. Despite the circumstances, it'd been good to see these two particular friends again. Especially on such a regular basis. "There's this Indian place just 'round the corner - proper English curry that'll make your eyeballs bleed. Or there's a couple of other places if you actually want food, Frenchie."
Marie-Ange shook her head and rolled her eyes, but kept a happy smile on her face. In a hotel room in England, far away from the place she'd considered home for three years, and she felt more at ease and comfortable than she had in months. "Indian is fine. Going out for a meal would be... very, very good. But, I think you and Doug can have bloody eyeballs, and I will get something that was not grown in a vat in Chernobyl, yes?"
With a chuckle, Amanda nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Oi, Doug, you up for detaching yourself from cyberspace for an hour or two?"
Doug swiveled back and forth in his chair excitedly. "Curry curry curry..." he muttered to himself as he began to close windows in preparation for logging off of the laptop. He was just about to close the last window when the laptop made a 'ping' noise. "Huh. How about that. Hold on a second..." he said to the pair of girls, turning his full attention back to the laptop.
"What..." Amanda started to ask, but was waved into silence by Marie-Ange. Obediently (and that was an indication of how much the former witch had changed over the last few months) she closed her mouth again and waited silently as Doug started tapping keys a little more intently than before.
"Of course it was obvious that, from the file size, these weren't actual songs, but they were encrypted all to hell," Doug muttered to himself. "It was just a question of breaking the encryption. And I, of course, am more than equal to the task," he continued with a self-satisfied grin. He tapped a few more keys, and unencrypted files began to appear on his screen. One in particular caught his eye due to the time stamp, and his eyes widened. "What do we have here? Prisoner transfer?" he asked rhetorically, bringing the file in question to the front and making it fill the screen.
"Prisoner?" Amanda was on her feet, crossing the room to stand behind Doug. Her heart seemed lodged somewhere in her throat. "Is it Rom?"
Doug browsed the file. "Doesn't say," he replied after a moment. "But, these being the people that snatched her, I'd think it's a relatively safe bet." He tapped a few more keys, and paged down through the document. "And they're transferring her today," he said, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice. "Where's the Trenchcoat Brigade?"
Marie-Ange frowned and shook her head. "Lancashire." She said quietly. "And I have no idea how far away that is." She made a sheepish expression and stared at her feet. "The schools in France do not teach much English geography."
"'S soddin' miles away," Amanda muttered, absently chewing on her thumbnail. "Up by fuckin' Yorkshire. It's a good few hours' drive at best, even if Pete hammered it and didn't get stopped. How long have we got before this transfer?"
Doug winced. "Not 'a good few hours at best'. As in, if we're going to make a play, it's got to be -now-." He looked up at the two girls watching him intently. "And it looks like there's only just us to do it."
"I wish you were kidding.." Marie-Ange shook her head, twitching the braid down her back over one shoulder. "But I have a terrible feeling that you are not, and if this needs to be done, and we are the only ones available, we should probably have some kind of plan." She let out a breath and reached behind her to pick up a deck of cards. "And some assurance that we will not end up in jail ourselves..."
There was the sudden sound of palm hitting flesh and the other two looked at Amanda in surprise. She'd smacked herself in the forehead quite emphatically. "Plonker!" she exclaimed, and then realised she was perhaps being a little obscure. "Wanda's in town, said she'd help. And fuck do we need help right now." Already she was pulling out her phone. "I can call her right now and get her here - she's not that far away."
Amanda's hotel room had become Research Central during her time there. Books and papers covered every available surface, including half the bed: she argued she was small enough that she didn't need all that space. The pile of Stuff To Go Through, however, had been rapidly dwarfed by the pile of Stuff Done, and still there was nothing. Hints, but nothing substantial - the pile of papers Pete had collected couldn't have been any more random if he'd tried.
With a sigh Amanda sat up from her sprawl across the bed, rubbing her eyes. Time for a break, at least before she started seeing double. Grabbing her room's keycard she headed across the hall to the room Doug and Marie-Ange had been installed in - Pete had agreed that having the three of them close together was a good idea, particularly if Doug turned up anything on the recovered iPod. Tapping on the door, Amanda called:
"You two decent in there? Break time."
Without looking up from where he was engrossed in the information he'd dumped on his laptop from the iPod, Doug called out "Angie's decent. I, on the other hand, am fantastic, amazing, and other superlative adjectives." He grinned as he continued to poke and prod at the laptop, encouraging it to divulge the files' secrets to him.
From the other side of the closed door, all Amanda could hear for a moment was a quiet -whump-, and an oddly exasperated sounding giggle. When the door opened, Marie-Ange had an entirely too innocent look on her face, and Doug was placing a small, very round squashy stuffed pig on the bed.
With a good-natured roll of her eyes, Amanda came in and flopped into an armchair, first checking to make sure there wasn't a pile of paper on it - she'd started dreaming piles of paper by now. "Good to know someone's having fun," she teased. "I'm just about ready to throw the towel in on this whole research thing. Nothing's jumping out at me and I swear I found one of Rom's shopping lists the other day in all that, which goes to show just how random that pile is." Blowing blonde hair out of her eyes, she looked at the other two hopefully. "How're things going your end?"
"Doug has not resorted to profanities that I do not know yet..." Marie-Ange started. "And that is the first time I have had to throw things at him." She looked over her shoulder at Doug, already back at his laptop and frowned. "I think it is time for a break, and maybe to see if room service has food. Or if there is somewhere nearby..."
"I'm voting for out, but that's only 'cause I've been here long enough to have had everything on the room service menu. Twice." Amanda gave Marie-Ange a grin. Despite the circumstances, it'd been good to see these two particular friends again. Especially on such a regular basis. "There's this Indian place just 'round the corner - proper English curry that'll make your eyeballs bleed. Or there's a couple of other places if you actually want food, Frenchie."
Marie-Ange shook her head and rolled her eyes, but kept a happy smile on her face. In a hotel room in England, far away from the place she'd considered home for three years, and she felt more at ease and comfortable than she had in months. "Indian is fine. Going out for a meal would be... very, very good. But, I think you and Doug can have bloody eyeballs, and I will get something that was not grown in a vat in Chernobyl, yes?"
With a chuckle, Amanda nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Oi, Doug, you up for detaching yourself from cyberspace for an hour or two?"
Doug swiveled back and forth in his chair excitedly. "Curry curry curry..." he muttered to himself as he began to close windows in preparation for logging off of the laptop. He was just about to close the last window when the laptop made a 'ping' noise. "Huh. How about that. Hold on a second..." he said to the pair of girls, turning his full attention back to the laptop.
"What..." Amanda started to ask, but was waved into silence by Marie-Ange. Obediently (and that was an indication of how much the former witch had changed over the last few months) she closed her mouth again and waited silently as Doug started tapping keys a little more intently than before.
"Of course it was obvious that, from the file size, these weren't actual songs, but they were encrypted all to hell," Doug muttered to himself. "It was just a question of breaking the encryption. And I, of course, am more than equal to the task," he continued with a self-satisfied grin. He tapped a few more keys, and unencrypted files began to appear on his screen. One in particular caught his eye due to the time stamp, and his eyes widened. "What do we have here? Prisoner transfer?" he asked rhetorically, bringing the file in question to the front and making it fill the screen.
"Prisoner?" Amanda was on her feet, crossing the room to stand behind Doug. Her heart seemed lodged somewhere in her throat. "Is it Rom?"
Doug browsed the file. "Doesn't say," he replied after a moment. "But, these being the people that snatched her, I'd think it's a relatively safe bet." He tapped a few more keys, and paged down through the document. "And they're transferring her today," he said, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice. "Where's the Trenchcoat Brigade?"
Marie-Ange frowned and shook her head. "Lancashire." She said quietly. "And I have no idea how far away that is." She made a sheepish expression and stared at her feet. "The schools in France do not teach much English geography."
"'S soddin' miles away," Amanda muttered, absently chewing on her thumbnail. "Up by fuckin' Yorkshire. It's a good few hours' drive at best, even if Pete hammered it and didn't get stopped. How long have we got before this transfer?"
Doug winced. "Not 'a good few hours at best'. As in, if we're going to make a play, it's got to be -now-." He looked up at the two girls watching him intently. "And it looks like there's only just us to do it."
"I wish you were kidding.." Marie-Ange shook her head, twitching the braid down her back over one shoulder. "But I have a terrible feeling that you are not, and if this needs to be done, and we are the only ones available, we should probably have some kind of plan." She let out a breath and reached behind her to pick up a deck of cards. "And some assurance that we will not end up in jail ourselves..."
There was the sudden sound of palm hitting flesh and the other two looked at Amanda in surprise. She'd smacked herself in the forehead quite emphatically. "Plonker!" she exclaimed, and then realised she was perhaps being a little obscure. "Wanda's in town, said she'd help. And fuck do we need help right now." Already she was pulling out her phone. "I can call her right now and get her here - she's not that far away."