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xp_logs2024-09-04 09:33 pm
xp_dominion) wrote in xp_logs2024-09-04 09:33 pm
Entry tags:
Dixie Dead Shake - Log 7
Kane and Jean are ambushed at the temporary embassay.
The temporary Canadian embassy was housed in what had been a small dress shop, and Special Inspector Garrison Kane's first official duty as the RCMP liaison had been to carry four mannikins from the window into the back storage room. It hadn't taken long to set up the folding tables and chairs, organize the laptops, and get things squared away before opening the doors... to absolutely no one. An UberEats driver walked in accidentally an hour later, but otherwise, they were alone.
After a few boring hours, mostly filled with hockey offseason chatter, Kane waved the temporary attache and her assistant off to grab lunch, shifting over to the desk to cover. The door jangled - a small bell Kane hadn't gotten around to taking down - and their first actual guest arrived.
"Ah, I see you're here to take advantage of Canada's outreach program to recruit hot red-headed doctor ladies for citizenship." He said, straight-faced.
"Am I that transparent?" Jean said with a smirk. She glanced around. "It was either that or..." she squinted. "Buy a blouse. Maybe both."
"Very funny, disrespecting a Canadian embassy like that." They hadn't bothered to take down some of the racks mounted on the walls, considering they were only in the space for the week. Kane got up and came around the desk, dressed in his red serge, from the brown Stetson down to his RCMP issued brown leather riding boots. "So, how's your first full morning in the Big Easy, Red?"
Jean glanced up at him in all the regalia, tipping the hat down with a grin. "Oh Canada," she mused, leaning in for a kiss before stepping back.
"It feels familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The old world charm reminds me of some places in Europe but it's definitely a place all its own."
"I get that. I got us reservations at Dooky Chase for dinner tonight, which I'm told is authentic old school Naw'lins food. Maybe just take a walk around after, take a look at the streets while most people are packing it into the bars at the time?" Kane said, leaning back against the desk.
"Dooky Chase," Jean repeated with a laugh. "Sounds amazing." She tapped her chin.
"I'd love to visit Lafitte's Blacksmith Bar. It's supposed to be the oldest bar in the United States."
"Absolutely! My uncle Pete used to swear by that place." Kane said, with a laugh that momentarily disappeared the shadows under his eyes and the worn lines in his face.
"Swear by that place or swear in that place?" Jean said with a light smile before glancing him over to catch his gaze.
"Are you doing okay?" She put her hand on his shoulder. "You've seemed a little more well worn since we've gotten here. I'm guessing the driving didn't help. I knew we should have flown."
"I'm fine. Just having issues getting proper rest." He said, although she knew that he wasn't sleeping right, his appetite was gone, and neither Amanda's people or Bruce's had come up with any kind of solution. Kane's condition was catching up with him and it was moving quicker than they'd hoped. "But, I've got plenty of energy for our vacation, I promise." He paused as the door opened and three men came in. They paused after clearing the door, looking around.
"Sorry, gentlemen, the Attaché is currently out. She'll be back in a half hour or so. If you want to come back or you can drop off your claim and your contact information with me and she'll follow up." Kane said, snapping back into official Mountie mode without a second thought.
"Kane. Garrison Kane. Dat you?" The lead man said, looking puzzled.
"Yeeees?" Kane said, drawing out the answer. "I'm Special Inspector Garrison Kane. Should I know you?"
"Non. Non. Just making sure." He reached into his pants pocket and flicked out a handful of what seemed to be dust directly in Kane's face.
"What are you--What was that?" Jean said, several internal warning bells going off in her head.
Kane normally would have been moving the second the man's hand came out, but as compromised as he was, he took the dust full in the face. In a heartbeat, the world went black and he toppled over. The other two men did the same to Jean, and as the compound hit, it scrambled her connection to her psionic abilities.
For a moment or two, everything around them trembled before abruptly stopping as Jean's eyes rolled back in her head and she dropped to the ground like dead weight.
The temporary Canadian embassy was housed in what had been a small dress shop, and Special Inspector Garrison Kane's first official duty as the RCMP liaison had been to carry four mannikins from the window into the back storage room. It hadn't taken long to set up the folding tables and chairs, organize the laptops, and get things squared away before opening the doors... to absolutely no one. An UberEats driver walked in accidentally an hour later, but otherwise, they were alone.
After a few boring hours, mostly filled with hockey offseason chatter, Kane waved the temporary attache and her assistant off to grab lunch, shifting over to the desk to cover. The door jangled - a small bell Kane hadn't gotten around to taking down - and their first actual guest arrived.
"Ah, I see you're here to take advantage of Canada's outreach program to recruit hot red-headed doctor ladies for citizenship." He said, straight-faced.
"Am I that transparent?" Jean said with a smirk. She glanced around. "It was either that or..." she squinted. "Buy a blouse. Maybe both."
"Very funny, disrespecting a Canadian embassy like that." They hadn't bothered to take down some of the racks mounted on the walls, considering they were only in the space for the week. Kane got up and came around the desk, dressed in his red serge, from the brown Stetson down to his RCMP issued brown leather riding boots. "So, how's your first full morning in the Big Easy, Red?"
Jean glanced up at him in all the regalia, tipping the hat down with a grin. "Oh Canada," she mused, leaning in for a kiss before stepping back.
"It feels familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The old world charm reminds me of some places in Europe but it's definitely a place all its own."
"I get that. I got us reservations at Dooky Chase for dinner tonight, which I'm told is authentic old school Naw'lins food. Maybe just take a walk around after, take a look at the streets while most people are packing it into the bars at the time?" Kane said, leaning back against the desk.
"Dooky Chase," Jean repeated with a laugh. "Sounds amazing." She tapped her chin.
"I'd love to visit Lafitte's Blacksmith Bar. It's supposed to be the oldest bar in the United States."
"Absolutely! My uncle Pete used to swear by that place." Kane said, with a laugh that momentarily disappeared the shadows under his eyes and the worn lines in his face.
"Swear by that place or swear in that place?" Jean said with a light smile before glancing him over to catch his gaze.
"Are you doing okay?" She put her hand on his shoulder. "You've seemed a little more well worn since we've gotten here. I'm guessing the driving didn't help. I knew we should have flown."
"I'm fine. Just having issues getting proper rest." He said, although she knew that he wasn't sleeping right, his appetite was gone, and neither Amanda's people or Bruce's had come up with any kind of solution. Kane's condition was catching up with him and it was moving quicker than they'd hoped. "But, I've got plenty of energy for our vacation, I promise." He paused as the door opened and three men came in. They paused after clearing the door, looking around.
"Sorry, gentlemen, the Attaché is currently out. She'll be back in a half hour or so. If you want to come back or you can drop off your claim and your contact information with me and she'll follow up." Kane said, snapping back into official Mountie mode without a second thought.
"Kane. Garrison Kane. Dat you?" The lead man said, looking puzzled.
"Yeeees?" Kane said, drawing out the answer. "I'm Special Inspector Garrison Kane. Should I know you?"
"Non. Non. Just making sure." He reached into his pants pocket and flicked out a handful of what seemed to be dust directly in Kane's face.
"What are you--What was that?" Jean said, several internal warning bells going off in her head.
Kane normally would have been moving the second the man's hand came out, but as compromised as he was, he took the dust full in the face. In a heartbeat, the world went black and he toppled over. The other two men did the same to Jean, and as the compound hit, it scrambled her connection to her psionic abilities.
For a moment or two, everything around them trembled before abruptly stopping as Jean's eyes rolled back in her head and she dropped to the ground like dead weight.