Operation: Melittology
Dec. 2nd, 2007 01:25 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAmanda and Sarah receive the files from Marie-Ange, and go digging.
"I'm beginning to really dislike Germans." Sarah looked lazily at her beer, one bony finger running around the rim of the glass. "Not that I've had really bad experiences with them or anything."
"What, being dissected by them wasn't on your top ten things to do on your hols?" Amanda replied, stretching out her neck from side to side. "Ugh. Bank records. Rows and rows of numbers - so much for the glamorous life of the spy."
"Not quite. Hell, I don't mind pain, but there's something decidedly
unsexy about mad scientists." Sarah grinned across the table, before
returning her gaze to the table in front of them. "Don't forget
client lists. It's like reading the fucking phone book."
"Isn't there computer programs that can do all this comparison bullshit?" Amanda complained, before checking herself and falling into an imitation of Remy's accent: "'No, 'cause dere be t'ings eyes and brains can catch dat computers don't'. Don't remind me." She had a sip of beer and went on in a much less whinging tone. "So, we've got these regular payments from Strucker's old account going to this company... how much did you get on that?"
Sarah rolled her eyes at the spot-on imitation of Remy. "It's a
plane-chartering company out of Germany, owned by Gunther Oomes. Does regular business out of New York. I don't know what a dead man's doing chartering a plane, but there you go."
"Well, he had quite the set up... and we never actually saw a body, what with the explosions and all. Might be he pulled a Lazarus or something, or what's left of his set up is carrying on without him..." Amanda turned to pull a wad of printouts from her file bag. "Let's see... there's a lot of payments here, regular as clockwork. Whatever it is they're doing, it needs a lot of flights out of New York..." She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. "I'm getting a deja vu."
"You think they're snatching more people to bring him back?" She bent
over to peer at the papers on the table, pointing at the name on one
of the invoices. "You think maybe this Oomes guy is shipping people
out for harvest?"
"Could be. Bears digging into more, at least." Amanda dug out her PDA and started composing a message to Pete and Remy. "You want to order us another round? I think we'll need one."
Sarah pushed herself up from the table, her expression a little less
personable than it had been minutes before. "Yeah, just don't let me
wander away with anybody on the way home. Last time I did that, I
woke up strapped to a table."
"Oh, I think we've already hit the kidnapping quota for this year, so you're not going anywhere without me," Amanda said, although her smile was a little grim. "No-one's going anywhere."
"I'm beginning to really dislike Germans." Sarah looked lazily at her beer, one bony finger running around the rim of the glass. "Not that I've had really bad experiences with them or anything."
"What, being dissected by them wasn't on your top ten things to do on your hols?" Amanda replied, stretching out her neck from side to side. "Ugh. Bank records. Rows and rows of numbers - so much for the glamorous life of the spy."
"Not quite. Hell, I don't mind pain, but there's something decidedly
unsexy about mad scientists." Sarah grinned across the table, before
returning her gaze to the table in front of them. "Don't forget
client lists. It's like reading the fucking phone book."
"Isn't there computer programs that can do all this comparison bullshit?" Amanda complained, before checking herself and falling into an imitation of Remy's accent: "'No, 'cause dere be t'ings eyes and brains can catch dat computers don't'. Don't remind me." She had a sip of beer and went on in a much less whinging tone. "So, we've got these regular payments from Strucker's old account going to this company... how much did you get on that?"
Sarah rolled her eyes at the spot-on imitation of Remy. "It's a
plane-chartering company out of Germany, owned by Gunther Oomes. Does regular business out of New York. I don't know what a dead man's doing chartering a plane, but there you go."
"Well, he had quite the set up... and we never actually saw a body, what with the explosions and all. Might be he pulled a Lazarus or something, or what's left of his set up is carrying on without him..." Amanda turned to pull a wad of printouts from her file bag. "Let's see... there's a lot of payments here, regular as clockwork. Whatever it is they're doing, it needs a lot of flights out of New York..." She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. "I'm getting a deja vu."
"You think they're snatching more people to bring him back?" She bent
over to peer at the papers on the table, pointing at the name on one
of the invoices. "You think maybe this Oomes guy is shipping people
out for harvest?"
"Could be. Bears digging into more, at least." Amanda dug out her PDA and started composing a message to Pete and Remy. "You want to order us another round? I think we'll need one."
Sarah pushed herself up from the table, her expression a little less
personable than it had been minutes before. "Yeah, just don't let me
wander away with anybody on the way home. Last time I did that, I
woke up strapped to a table."
"Oh, I think we've already hit the kidnapping quota for this year, so you're not going anywhere without me," Amanda said, although her smile was a little grim. "No-one's going anywhere."
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