Food for Thought

[Brian]

Your efforts eventually yeild results.  The ISP gives you a convoluted explanation involving a dish uplink, overheating, melted snow, and ice in a transponder.  On the bright side, you're not alone, and they expect to have it fixed by morning.

It is now dark outside, and still snowing.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn consults the book of U-Fu'king and discovers that the appropriate omen is "Screw it."  Never being one to disagree with prophecies (at least one's he's made), it's time to head to bed -- leaving the sword nice and convenient to reach, though.

[Brian]

Your sleep is uninterupted until you wake up on Saturday morning to the sound of a ringing phone.  By your clock it's just before 6:00 AM.

[Bjorn]

Well, it probably isn't a telemarketer, right?  It hasn't been all that long since move-in and...

Well, it probably is a telemarketer, actually.  But that doesn't stop Bjorn from answering the phone.

[Brian]

A synthesized-sounding voice speaks before you can get further than saying, "Hello."

"Mr. Christianson, this is Ceran.  I have to warn you to contact Pax Arcana.  You are no longer safe where you live."

Then your caller hangs up.

About two seconds later, there's a furious knock on your front door.

[Bjorn]

Years of living in Los Angeles have allowed Bjorn to perfect his Opening The Door Under Worrying Circumstances routine -- hold a bokuto in right hand (not a sword, because Girl Guides and the police, among others, frown on that), open door slowly, keep weapon concealed behind door.  Time to put that plan into action.

If it's a Mormon or a Witness, they're going to get the stick.  Not really, of course, but amply in imagination.

[Brian]

It's the blonde from the prior day (and the day before, actually), and she's not actually looking at the door -- she's looking back and forth down the street, like she's expecting someone else to show up.  "Come on," she mutters, apparently not realizing that the door is open behind her.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn briefly contemplates a few witticisms, but decides to go with a standard, "Can I help you?"

'Don't piss off hot secret agents,' is his Motto of the Minute (TM).

[Brian]

She actually jumps into the air when you speak, and spins around to face you, one hand going into a skirt pocket.  After a second, she calms down, and looks over her shoulder, down the street.  "Christ," she says quietly.  "Sorry.  Um, look, I'm sorry about this, and I know you don't want to be involved, but there's something going on, and I think you should know about it."  She checks her watch while speaking, and frowns.  "This place isn't too safe -- if you're willing to come with me and at least listen to what I have to say, I'll let you choose to either work with us, or just try to stick it out here."

[Bjorn]

"All right.  Give me a second."

Leaving the door open so that she can step in if she wants (people seem to be visiting on a regular basis without permission anyways), Bjorn quickly steps into the bedroom (closing that door, however), and dresses.  Then he tucks a pen into his pocket -- a long, heavy old-fashioned fountain pen with a razor-sharp nib.  After that, he goes back out to meet Miss S. Agent.

[Brian]

She glances over you, but mostly seems to be watching the street through your front window.  "We may be too late," she mutters.  "If you've got a weapon, or anything really important, you might want to take it with you."

[Bjorn]

Well, then.  This is starting to feel a little silly, but better safe than sorry.  Bjorn grabs his equipment bag, and throws in a couple bokuto (they break), a jo, and his sword.  Slinging the bag over his shoulder, tucking his passport in his pocket, and stuffing the magic bracelet in the other pocket, he nods at the woman.  "Okay, I'm as ready as I get."

Edit: Forgot about the magic bracelet!

[Brian]

The woman nods, and leads you to the driveway, where you can see her car.  It's a four-door green GMC SUV, and she motions you to stow your gear in the back.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn does so with no hesitation, because a) swords aren't of much use in cars, and b) she probably has a gun.

[Brian]

On a thigh-holster, no less.  You get a glance at it before she adjusts her skirt after climbing into the driver's seat.  Once you're situated, she pulls out of the driveway, and heads down the street.  "Where's your partner?" she asks, studying the rear-view mirror.