xp_logs | Pete and George Blair, on the phone (Reply)

Pete calls his old mate. He's not terribly happy.

Pete drummed his fingers on his desk, waiting for the phone to be picked up at the other end.

"Afternoon. This is Pete Wisdom. I'm looking to get hold of George Blair, and this is the last number I've got for him."

George sighed. Oh, he was going to hell for this one. There were rules about selling out your mates in the middle of a job but then, there were also rules about self preservation and trying to control the damage when things turned into giant fucking disasters with side orders of probable impending pain. "Yeah, this is George Blair. Glad you called, actually. Listen, I've got a bit of a problem you might be interested in."

Pete raised his eyebrows in shock.

"Too bloody right you have, squire. I mean, the odd dodgy job is one thing, but since when did you take work from bona-fide drooling madbastards? They're fucking kids, you stupid sod!"

"Look, he implied that it was the usual, y'know? Kidnap 'em, drag 'em off to Lebanon or somewhere and hand them over to the parent who lost the custody hearing. The batshit crazy came out later. I don't know what you know about the situation here but I got a feeling it's worse than you think it is."

Pete scowled to himself.

"I already think it's pretty fucking bad, sunshine. A class one howling loon has taken some innocent kids, because he's obsessed with my mate's wife, and they might have been near her once, or something. And he's been sending fucking notes with some seriously dodgy implications. What's the fucking score here, then?"

"Well, we've got Mr Crazy, sorry, Rory Campbell running the show, a bunch of lab techs who can't fight and aren't armed and then us. The 'Nasty Boys'." George's voice dripped sarcasm as he dropped the names, just in case Wisdom didn't already know exactly who was involved in all this. "An' we've got what he's done to the kids. You're going to have a cunt of a time extracting them. I got no idea how he did what he's done to them, since I'm not one of his techies but I seen one of them get fed last night. He's done them over like you wouldn't believe." George took a deep breath and explained, to the best of his knowledge, what Campbell had done. He finished by saying "You're going to have to sedate the shit out of them before you move them, mate. It's the only way you'll be able to get them away."

While George spoke, Pete lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag on it.

"You are very fucking lucky I like you, mate. You haven't the common sense that god gave the common squirrel, but I like you. Here's what's going to happen: you're going to tell me where you, the kids and Campbell are, and how well defended the place is. I am going to pass this information on to the bunch of property damage experts that you stole those children from. They are not terribly happy about that, so I'd imagine that they'll come and stamp on Campbell and your mates and collect those children. But because I like you, I'll let them know what you look like, and I'll ask them to only kick half your brains in."

"Right. Tell them the best way to take me out believably is to blow me up. I'll make the fight look believable, so's they don't catch on and swallow a charge at the end. I reckon I'll be able to walk away from that, once I've reassembled myself." George scrubbed a hand through his hair. Bye bye career, bye bye payday. Hello security work in Mongolia till things cooled down again. "The defences, though…" He began to carefully describe the layout and the Boys' powers.

"Alright, old son. I'll make sure they know what you look like. I'd imagine they'll be beating the door down some time in the next six hours or so. And the next time you get hired by a howling loon, you fucking call me first."

"Make sure they know I got rid of the mustache since that time in Georgia, 'kay? I … owe you, mate. And don't worry. I'm dropping out of sight for a few months. I figure I've gone and fucked my career in the head."