B2 took a team down to Florida right when he got back from Africa. The hotel manager was coerced to help us out through a combination of bribery and forged FBI badges. Specter was nowhere to be found, and the manager mentioned that there'd been no sign of the guest who rented the room for a couple of days. The manager mentioned there had been a guy looking for Specter, though. Asked for his cover name while in public (the one he rented a hotel room with). Grey shirt, brown hair. Fairly nondescript. The kind of guy you'd expect to miss walking down a street or in a crowd. B2 and his team searched the room top to bottom, didn't find any kind of hidden message or warning. The manager said there were no signs of a struggle in the room. Specter just up and disappeared. If anything like that happened, they would have called the police.
It wasn't long after that we got a call from a cell number one of the dead bodyguards had used. The guy in possession of the phone, whoever he is, wants a rendezvous. He didn't say why, but he rattled off a very interesting list of facts. Whoever it is has a fairly intricate knowledge of PTC operating procedure. We don't exactly pass out fliers with that information. Either it's someone in the PTC, or Specter's been captured and he's getting interrogated. And he's cracked. We've got to find him, and fast.
The rendezvous is to take place tomorrow. He's provided an address. We're not gonna say where or when, as he requested.
As for Mr. Collector, our team's still hot on his trail, regardless of his offer. This Mr. Reed fellow, however, is interesting. As important as finding Specter is, Collector needs to be dealt with, and Mr. Reed's a potential security risk. We've already dispatched two squads to Reed's address. They have orders to take him alive if possible, but if he's difficult, another one for the body count doesn't hurt.
Internal Affairs has been bugging the crap out of us to just get back to work and let them find Specter. They're being unreasonable about this. We haven't given two shits about their authority before, and we're not about to start now. Meanwhile, our relocation is almost finalized. Things are cleared up, and our previous safehouse is now recognized as a potential risk for future PTC Divisions to use until this matter with Collector is resolved.
I've also been getting back on topic, in terms of the science team's workload. We had a theory, relating to the Electric Theorem. Common circulating theory is that the Slender Man is easy to harm with electricity and magnetism. So, assuming dimensional manipulation can be done artificially (if at all), we might be able to dimensionally contain him to keep him from just getting away, get him inside a cage consisting entirely of highly-magnetic and conductive materials, run a massive current through it, and then get it to close in around him. The result should be a bit explosive.
That's assuming any of that works at all, let alone hurts him. We might be able to actually kill the bastard. We'd need to lure him into the cage, though. But again, just some theories we've been kicking around. We've also been debating 'lethal taser' rounds again.
The problem is that solid-projectiles seem to do nothing upon impact (presumably that's just without an electric current), and just don't connect if they do have an electric current. Confirmed video evidence of a blunt object and a car not hurting the Slender Man exist and are currently on the everymanHYBRID channel on Youtube. That was the whole reason we broke out the laser carbines to deal with this. And they were effective. Current theory to explain that here at the SMD involves the stuff that hits the Slender Man simply moving too fast and being something different from your average baseball bat. In the case of the laser carbines, a beam of coherent light. Nothing slower has ever been confirmed to harm it. You don't get faster than the speed of light. And the light's not actually solid, and even the laser carbines never really did anything but make it back off, which could be explained by any number of things.
That might change with the addition of a running current into the mix, but that still leaves the matter of the taser rounds just not connecting. I don't know, I'll keep kicking the idea around.
Anyways, we'll keep you posted.
-Goggles
Friday, July 29, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
On my way
Money's been wired, I got a plane ticket.
I'll be back in the States by tomorrow. We can put our heads together and come up with a plan once I'm back. Hold things together, Goggles. Twenty-four hours to go.
-B2
I'll be back in the States by tomorrow. We can put our heads together and come up with a plan once I'm back. Hold things together, Goggles. Twenty-four hours to go.
-B2
Tried to contact Specter
He hasn't answered any calls, and he's not replying to emails. So I contacted his bodyguards.
Turns out, they're all dead and Specter's disappeared, for one reason or another. Either he's gone to ground, or he's been captured or killed. I haven't gotten an answer for that.
How do I know this from calling a dead guard?
It wasn't the dead guy who answered the phone. Someone took his phone, said that he was dead, and hung up on me.
If Specter wanted or needed help, he'd contact us himself, so I have to assume he's unable to, or simply won't, for whatever reason. So for now, Specter's on his own. We need to relocate anyways.
B2, I know you're reading this. Please, just get some money wired. We can't wait for you anymore.
-Goggles
Turns out, they're all dead and Specter's disappeared, for one reason or another. Either he's gone to ground, or he's been captured or killed. I haven't gotten an answer for that.
How do I know this from calling a dead guard?
It wasn't the dead guy who answered the phone. Someone took his phone, said that he was dead, and hung up on me.
If Specter wanted or needed help, he'd contact us himself, so I have to assume he's unable to, or simply won't, for whatever reason. So for now, Specter's on his own. We need to relocate anyways.
B2, I know you're reading this. Please, just get some money wired. We can't wait for you anymore.
-Goggles
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Supercomputers
Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is to SAFELY take one apart and then put it back together without breaking something?
Do you?
Because I'm doing it.
IT ISN'T A FUN PROCESS.
-Goggles
Do you?
Because I'm doing it.
IT ISN'T A FUN PROCESS.
-Goggles
Friday, July 22, 2011
Well FUCK.
OK, so, a guy got killed right outside our hideout. One of our science team members.
Then Collector bragged about it and took credit. And compromised our hideout's secrecy.
We're taking apart the PATCH and relocating already. Damn it.
On the other hand, now we have a lead. It's amazing what a bit of DNA testing, security footage from our own cameras, and some satellite-surveillance data from hacked satellites can do.
We're on your trail, you little freak.
-Goggles
Then Collector bragged about it and took credit. And compromised our hideout's secrecy.
We're taking apart the PATCH and relocating already. Damn it.
On the other hand, now we have a lead. It's amazing what a bit of DNA testing, security footage from our own cameras, and some satellite-surveillance data from hacked satellites can do.
We're on your trail, you little freak.
-Goggles
Thursday, July 21, 2011
My boss's unpaid vacation
Specter's going on a little trip. I'm not at liberty to divulge all the details, but it involved a hissy-fit, some confusion on my part, and Central Command locking him out of the PTC Darknet for two weeks. I'm in charge here at the SMD hideout while he's away. Great.
Word from B2. He apparently got into a shootout with a bunch of African militia out in the middle of fucking nowhere. How's this correspond to him getting out of Africa? Apparently, he needs to get enough money to pay off a guy who can get him safely off the continent. Which makes no sense, because he could just ask for someone to wire him some money, or call for a pick-up. We have PTC units operating in Africa, so he could just get in touch with one of them. Anyways, apparently, he's raising the money by hunting down and killing African militia, and then he's taking their rations for food, and selling their guns to some other militia. Why do I have the feeling he's played way too much Fallout, and just wants an excuse to get away with this kind of thing in real life for a little while?
Anyways, the science team's finally finished going over all of the test results from the PATCH. We're finally getting to work on some actual devices now. As for Mr. Collector, we've given Central Command a rough idea of his current location, and they've dispatched a few investigators. They're already on the move. Once they have a solid fix on his location, the SMD will send in a squad to wrap things up.
-Goggles
Word from B2. He apparently got into a shootout with a bunch of African militia out in the middle of fucking nowhere. How's this correspond to him getting out of Africa? Apparently, he needs to get enough money to pay off a guy who can get him safely off the continent. Which makes no sense, because he could just ask for someone to wire him some money, or call for a pick-up. We have PTC units operating in Africa, so he could just get in touch with one of them. Anyways, apparently, he's raising the money by hunting down and killing African militia, and then he's taking their rations for food, and selling their guns to some other militia. Why do I have the feeling he's played way too much Fallout, and just wants an excuse to get away with this kind of thing in real life for a little while?
Anyways, the science team's finally finished going over all of the test results from the PATCH. We're finally getting to work on some actual devices now. As for Mr. Collector, we've given Central Command a rough idea of his current location, and they've dispatched a few investigators. They're already on the move. Once they have a solid fix on his location, the SMD will send in a squad to wrap things up.
-Goggles
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
good
Subject: SMD/Central Command Conference
Sender: PTC Central Command Transcript Office
To: PTC Transcript Record Databank
Date: 7/20/11, 01:29
Conference 1793 Audio Transcript
Attending:
PTC General Marcus Karmac (Callsign: Orca)
PTC Head Executive Omar Carlyle (Callsign: Drumroll)
SMD Head Executive Kyle Leonard (Callsign: Specter)
SMD Science Department Head Scientist Phillip Spinal (Callsign: Goggles)
Specter: Karmac, Carlyle.
Drumroll: Leonard, what is the meaning of this conference? It's one-thirty in the morning.
Specter: Oh, no reason. Just thought I'd call up, say hi, request permission to authorize the 'Imminent Exposure' protocol, and top it off with permission to engage the target of Imminent Exposure with heavy assets.
Orca: Wait, wait, wait. You want to authorize gunship deployments again? Against what?!
Drumroll: I know what this is about. Karmac, he's talking about this Collector business.
Orca: You want to kill some random psychopath with a gunship?!
Specter: Gunships. Plural.
Orca: Are you completely insane?!
Drumroll: And with the Imminent Exposure protocol active, no less. You're basically requesting permission to broadcast our existence to the world by way of excessive collateral damage.
Specter: Yeah, pretty much.
Drumroll: I don't know how you can make this call to Central Command and remain so calm about this while requesting authority to deploy heavy weapons! With a straight face! This is a joke, right?
Specter: Yes, Omar. I'm joking. I'm really calling to request authorization to deploy our tank. Can I have authority to deploy heavy assets, now?
Drumroll: I don't appreciate jokes, Leonard. Especially not when we're discussing such a matter as the Imminent Exposure protocol.
Goggles: Wait, we have a tank?
Specter: I'm not joking. Rockets, tanks, gunships. Give me something to green-light, here.
Drumroll: Absolutely not!
Specter: Why is it whenever I try to do my job, Central Command does everything in their power to tie down assets or flat-out keep me from deploying anything big enough?
Drumroll: Don't start up with that! We've given you plenty of leeway! That blog, the rampant gunship deployments, numerous casualties! Drafting of Irregular personnel! You're almost as bad as Nile!
Specter: Don't you dare go there, Omar. I'm not Nightcrawler. We've been over this.
Drumroll: You're going too far, this time!
Specter: I'm going to green-light it, with or without your permission.
Drumroll: I'm calling your bluff, Specter. You wouldn't dare do that.
Goggles: Could somebody rewind for a minute? What was that about a tank?
Specter: You're right. I wouldn't. Congratulations, you called my bluff.
Drumroll: What do you hope for this...temper tantrum to solve, Leonard?
Specter: A very bad problem.
Drumroll: Specter, you're not getting authorization to deploy heavy assets for the Imminent Exposure protocol. Kill him with nothing bigger than an automatic rifle. Do a drive-by if you feel it necessary. Nothing pointlessly public if at all possible.
Specter: Karmac, authorize it.
Orca: Of course I won't authorize it, Specter. I'm in full agreement with Carlyle. No good.
Specter: You won't authorize it, either?
Orca: Why should I? No point. It's one guy. Kill him, by all means. Just do it the usual way.
Specter: Is it such a bad thing to make sure the guy's dead?
Orca: Specter. Think about it. You're authorizing Imminent Exposure and requesting permission for tanks and gunships to make sure one person stays dead and buried when a brief engagement on foot would do just as well, with minimal exposure.
Drumroll: Specter, are you alright?
Specter: What do you mean?
Drumroll: You're sweating. A lot.
Specter: I...What are you talking about?
Goggles: Can we go back to the tank for just a minute?
Specter: Shit, you're right. I AM sweating. I need to go and get a drink or something. Excuse me.
Drumroll: Oh, sit down. As long as it doesn't afflict your ability to think rationally. Not that it's a skill you're known for, these days.
Specter: I'm not nuts, alright?
Drumroll: Specter, you eat, breathe, and drink this job, and specifically this case. Maybe it's time for a vacation.
Specter: No way! We're finally making some progress! We-
Drumroll: Do you trust your subordinates to properly do their jobs while you take a day off?
Specter: Of course not!
Goggles: Hey!
Drumroll: In which case, give me a moment here...and, there we go. All of your passwords and registry information will be rejected for the next two weeks. You won't be able to access any PTC databanks or darknet sites.
Specter: You're locking me out?!
Drumroll: Take a vacation, Leonard. For your own sake. You're twenty-nine years old. You have greying hair. Your Division has reached an odd sort of stability in the wake of a recent drop in activity that you can track. Your situation will not totally collapse if you take a vacation. I'd suggest Florida.
Specter: Unbelievable! I try to do my job, and you lock me out!
Drumroll: Listen to yourself! You're obsessed with this case! Take a break!
Specter: You listen to me, Carlyle-
Drumroll: Take a break, or I will have you discharged, shot, and left for dead in a dumpster.
Specter: You make a persuasive argument. I'll start packing immediately.
CONNECTION CUT
CONNECTION CUT
CONNECTION CUT
Goggles: Will somebody please confirm or deny the existence of the tank?!
CONNECTION CUT
-END TRANSCRIPT
soon he'll be isolated
perfect
Sender: PTC Central Command Transcript Office
To: PTC Transcript Record Databank
Date: 7/20/11, 01:29
Conference 1793 Audio Transcript
Attending:
PTC General Marcus Karmac (Callsign: Orca)
PTC Head Executive Omar Carlyle (Callsign: Drumroll)
SMD Head Executive Kyle Leonard (Callsign: Specter)
SMD Science Department Head Scientist Phillip Spinal (Callsign: Goggles)
Specter: Karmac, Carlyle.
Drumroll: Leonard, what is the meaning of this conference? It's one-thirty in the morning.
Specter: Oh, no reason. Just thought I'd call up, say hi, request permission to authorize the 'Imminent Exposure' protocol, and top it off with permission to engage the target of Imminent Exposure with heavy assets.
Orca: Wait, wait, wait. You want to authorize gunship deployments again? Against what?!
Drumroll: I know what this is about. Karmac, he's talking about this Collector business.
Orca: You want to kill some random psychopath with a gunship?!
Specter: Gunships. Plural.
Orca: Are you completely insane?!
Drumroll: And with the Imminent Exposure protocol active, no less. You're basically requesting permission to broadcast our existence to the world by way of excessive collateral damage.
Specter: Yeah, pretty much.
Drumroll: I don't know how you can make this call to Central Command and remain so calm about this while requesting authority to deploy heavy weapons! With a straight face! This is a joke, right?
Specter: Yes, Omar. I'm joking. I'm really calling to request authorization to deploy our tank. Can I have authority to deploy heavy assets, now?
Drumroll: I don't appreciate jokes, Leonard. Especially not when we're discussing such a matter as the Imminent Exposure protocol.
Goggles: Wait, we have a tank?
Specter: I'm not joking. Rockets, tanks, gunships. Give me something to green-light, here.
Drumroll: Absolutely not!
Specter: Why is it whenever I try to do my job, Central Command does everything in their power to tie down assets or flat-out keep me from deploying anything big enough?
Drumroll: Don't start up with that! We've given you plenty of leeway! That blog, the rampant gunship deployments, numerous casualties! Drafting of Irregular personnel! You're almost as bad as Nile!
Specter: Don't you dare go there, Omar. I'm not Nightcrawler. We've been over this.
Drumroll: You're going too far, this time!
Specter: I'm going to green-light it, with or without your permission.
Drumroll: I'm calling your bluff, Specter. You wouldn't dare do that.
Goggles: Could somebody rewind for a minute? What was that about a tank?
Specter: You're right. I wouldn't. Congratulations, you called my bluff.
Drumroll: What do you hope for this...temper tantrum to solve, Leonard?
Specter: A very bad problem.
Drumroll: Specter, you're not getting authorization to deploy heavy assets for the Imminent Exposure protocol. Kill him with nothing bigger than an automatic rifle. Do a drive-by if you feel it necessary. Nothing pointlessly public if at all possible.
Specter: Karmac, authorize it.
Orca: Of course I won't authorize it, Specter. I'm in full agreement with Carlyle. No good.
Specter: You won't authorize it, either?
Orca: Why should I? No point. It's one guy. Kill him, by all means. Just do it the usual way.
Specter: Is it such a bad thing to make sure the guy's dead?
Orca: Specter. Think about it. You're authorizing Imminent Exposure and requesting permission for tanks and gunships to make sure one person stays dead and buried when a brief engagement on foot would do just as well, with minimal exposure.
Drumroll: Specter, are you alright?
Specter: What do you mean?
Drumroll: You're sweating. A lot.
Specter: I...What are you talking about?
Goggles: Can we go back to the tank for just a minute?
Specter: Shit, you're right. I AM sweating. I need to go and get a drink or something. Excuse me.
Drumroll: Oh, sit down. As long as it doesn't afflict your ability to think rationally. Not that it's a skill you're known for, these days.
Specter: I'm not nuts, alright?
Drumroll: Specter, you eat, breathe, and drink this job, and specifically this case. Maybe it's time for a vacation.
Specter: No way! We're finally making some progress! We-
Drumroll: Do you trust your subordinates to properly do their jobs while you take a day off?
Specter: Of course not!
Goggles: Hey!
Drumroll: In which case, give me a moment here...and, there we go. All of your passwords and registry information will be rejected for the next two weeks. You won't be able to access any PTC databanks or darknet sites.
Specter: You're locking me out?!
Drumroll: Take a vacation, Leonard. For your own sake. You're twenty-nine years old. You have greying hair. Your Division has reached an odd sort of stability in the wake of a recent drop in activity that you can track. Your situation will not totally collapse if you take a vacation. I'd suggest Florida.
Specter: Unbelievable! I try to do my job, and you lock me out!
Drumroll: Listen to yourself! You're obsessed with this case! Take a break!
Specter: You listen to me, Carlyle-
Drumroll: Take a break, or I will have you discharged, shot, and left for dead in a dumpster.
Specter: You make a persuasive argument. I'll start packing immediately.
CONNECTION CUT
CONNECTION CUT
CONNECTION CUT
Goggles: Will somebody please confirm or deny the existence of the tank?!
CONNECTION CUT
-END TRANSCRIPT
soon he'll be isolated
perfect
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