Doreen & Amahl Farouk
Jun. 6th, 2009 08:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsDoreen is on the receiving end of a rather odd call that leaves her with a message to deliver.
***
Amahl looked out of the airport window and contemplated the refueling jet with a strange degree of equanimity born of resignation. At least he came very close, he thought fleetingly, which given the level of opposition was something to be proud of. On the other hand, close counted only in in horseshoes and hand-grenades.
He turned away from the window and smiled genially at the young lady behind the US Airlines desk. "Hello, miss. Could I trouble you for the use of that phone, by any chance?"
Doreen and Monkey Joe were watching TV in the rec room, a ST:TNG marathon to be exact when the phone in the room rang. She looked up and stared at it. As far as she knew it wasn’t supposed to do that. On the third ring she figured it’d be okay to answer it, since no one else seemed to be doing so. Putting Monkey Joe to the side, Doreen walked on over and picked up the phone.
“Hello?” she squeaked, not sure what the right way to answer a phone that belonged to the school actually was.
"Why, hello." Amahl smiled brightly at the cautiously approaching police and waved a cheerful greeting at the lobster-looking mutant in Indian military uniform shadowing the detail. "I don't know who you are and I am afraid it's rather immaterial at this point. But of you could spare a minute in the midst of your undoubtedly very busy schedule to track down Mr Kane and give him a message for me, I would be eternally grateful..."
“I’m Doreen,” she said simply, a twitch going down her tail. The noise in the background was odd, “I… don’t know him, but I could find him,” Doreen promised. It wouldn’t be that hard, after all, everyone seemed to know everyone here somehow.
"Marvelous. It's rather short. Tell him that Professor Farouk called from a Bangkok jail and expressed a deep and abiding desire to have a word with Garrison's father."
The Thai SWAT had their gun out and were yelling something at him for a very safe distance, presumably occasioned by a warning from New Delhi that they were dealing with a Mutant Threat. Amah raised his finger at them absently. "Have you got it, sweetheart?"
“Yes. Professor …Farouk,” she said, struggling around the pronunciation. She had to keep from saying the name of the Lord in Shrek, to her it sounded similar. “Do… do you need me to tell anyone else? If you’re in a jail, that is. I can go get someone else too.”
The only thing audiouble from the other end of the phone, however, was a suddenly louder din of shouting voices, the disturbing sound of truncheons hitting flesh and then an abruptly familiar melody of the beeping accompanying a broken phone-connection.
***
***
Amahl looked out of the airport window and contemplated the refueling jet with a strange degree of equanimity born of resignation. At least he came very close, he thought fleetingly, which given the level of opposition was something to be proud of. On the other hand, close counted only in in horseshoes and hand-grenades.
He turned away from the window and smiled genially at the young lady behind the US Airlines desk. "Hello, miss. Could I trouble you for the use of that phone, by any chance?"
Doreen and Monkey Joe were watching TV in the rec room, a ST:TNG marathon to be exact when the phone in the room rang. She looked up and stared at it. As far as she knew it wasn’t supposed to do that. On the third ring she figured it’d be okay to answer it, since no one else seemed to be doing so. Putting Monkey Joe to the side, Doreen walked on over and picked up the phone.
“Hello?” she squeaked, not sure what the right way to answer a phone that belonged to the school actually was.
"Why, hello." Amahl smiled brightly at the cautiously approaching police and waved a cheerful greeting at the lobster-looking mutant in Indian military uniform shadowing the detail. "I don't know who you are and I am afraid it's rather immaterial at this point. But of you could spare a minute in the midst of your undoubtedly very busy schedule to track down Mr Kane and give him a message for me, I would be eternally grateful..."
“I’m Doreen,” she said simply, a twitch going down her tail. The noise in the background was odd, “I… don’t know him, but I could find him,” Doreen promised. It wouldn’t be that hard, after all, everyone seemed to know everyone here somehow.
"Marvelous. It's rather short. Tell him that Professor Farouk called from a Bangkok jail and expressed a deep and abiding desire to have a word with Garrison's father."
The Thai SWAT had their gun out and were yelling something at him for a very safe distance, presumably occasioned by a warning from New Delhi that they were dealing with a Mutant Threat. Amah raised his finger at them absently. "Have you got it, sweetheart?"
“Yes. Professor …Farouk,” she said, struggling around the pronunciation. She had to keep from saying the name of the Lord in Shrek, to her it sounded similar. “Do… do you need me to tell anyone else? If you’re in a jail, that is. I can go get someone else too.”
The only thing audiouble from the other end of the phone, however, was a suddenly louder din of shouting voices, the disturbing sound of truncheons hitting flesh and then an abruptly familiar melody of the beeping accompanying a broken phone-connection.
***
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