The Offices of Thalia Trimble, Private Eye - vol 1

As her head quickly clears from the whatinGod'snameWASthat, Thalia notes that the intern seems, for the moment, safe. She aims the sonic whatsis, at the two men grabbing boxes from the delivery van and fires the gun, then dashes toward the driver's side door of the fake Acumen Investigations van, throwing it open and climbing inside.

She wants to scream Yes! as she notes that the keys are in the ignition, but there's no time for celebratory utterances. She yanks the keys from the ignition, pounds the locking mechanism on the driver's side door, and pushes herself across to the passenger's side and out the door, locking that one too as she kicks it closed. The keys she shoves into her pants pocket as she exits and raises the gun to fire at the approaching van that she's facing.

The first shot blasts right into the box one of the men is carrying. It flips in the air, throwing loosely paper-clipped together documents all over the road. The mook quickly gets to work picking up as much as he can and jamming it back into the box with little care for keeping the contents in good condition. His fellow box loader curses when he gets to the driver side door and finds it locked. He drops his box to the ground and brings his elbow hard into the corner of the window, causing it to shatter into millions of pieces. With little regard for his own safety, the man climbs through the broken glass and into the car where he wastes no time ripping the paneling beneath the steering wheel apart so he can get to work on hot wiring the van.

You raise your sonic whatsis to fire at the oncoming van but never get to squeeze the trigger. One of the men that was guarding the door strikes you square in the jaw with a rock solid right hook. The force of the blow sends you flying backwards into the passenger door of the van which dents upon impact.

Tires screech as the vans pull up onto the scene and several more men enter the fray. As they round the corner you see that these men are not dressed in suits or mock up 'Acumen Investigations' jackets. Head to toe they are covered in black. Black slacks, combat boots, jackets, gloves, and balaclavas. They appear to be armed with larger rifle sized versions of the sonic whatsis you currently hold.

The man that struck you in the face gets a little cocky as he is joined by his allies. He takes his time walking up to you and slowly rising the weapon directly in front of your face. You notice that he uses his thumb to spin a series of dials on the side which you presume control various functions of the weapon.

---

Dice Pool Limit: 5
Thalia --- 2 HP

Threat Ratings
Mooks - Impostors --- 10

Optional Side Objectives
(1 Round Time Limit) Prevent the impostor van from getting away --- 3

In her studies of tai chi as a martial art, Thalia has learned to take a punch when necessary, but she realizes now how much she's relied on her ability to anticipate attacks to mitigate much of the impact. This time, she'd taken most of it with her jaw and left shoulder as she dented the van door.

Rolling with the momentum, she realizes she still has the sonic whatsis in her hand. She feigns injury, standing hunched against the van door, and whimpers a little to get them all to underestimate her. (It's not hard to whimper; her jaw hurts from that punch.) While she's hunched over, she glances at the sonic gun and quickly decides that there's a dial for range and one for force. She can't immediately tell what the third one is for, but she thumbs them all to the highest setting.

"P-please," she whimpers, sniffling. The tears in her voice are sold by the single tear rolling down one of her cheeks. She knows her huge, brown eyes are luminous with unshed ones dying to burst the dam. "Please don't."

She doesn't need a mirror to know that she looks winsomely vulnerable, because she can see it to some degree on the face of every one of these goons.

She holds up her hands, the sonic whatsis dangling by the grip. "I won't fight anymore! You can have the files. Just don't hurt me." She is breathing hard, gasping really. Her hands are shaking.

"Toss the gun over here," one of the jackboots says.

Thalia cowers at his voice, turning toward the van as though trying to burrow her head into a pillow.

With a snort of derision, the cocky guy moves toward her. "All right, take it easy, little girl. Nobody's gonna--"

When he reaches for her sonic whatsis, she drives her other hand up under his chin. The car keys she'd taken are fanned between her fingers, and they pierce the flat of his bottom jaw, tearing as she slashes. He screams and tries to pull away, which she uses to her benefit, coming with him and spinning around and releasing him into the crowd of jackboots, knocking him and one of the jackboots to the ground. As one of the ones still standing grabs for her, she anticipates it and dodges, grabbing his arm to pull him toward her and into a quick pair of key-punches, one to his solar plexus and one to his gut.

The one next to him is on her now, only she'd been able to see him coming, too, and she slides out of the grapple he'd attempted and rakes his face with the car keys before driving a knee into his groin.

Knowing the guys on the ground will have regrouped by now, she dive-rolls on the street to make it harder for them to aim and comes up in a crouch, aiming her turned-up-to-eleven sonic whatsis at the van being hot-wired.

And fires.

The sonic whatsis vibrates as you can feel the power inside it building to ludicrous levels. Just before it fires you think to yourself that turning all the dials to full blast might have been a mistake. The force of the blast propels you backwards into the air and through the plate glass window of the shop across the street.

You're not sure whether you blacked out, and if so, for how long. Every part of your body aches but the pounding inside your head is by far the worst of it. Your ears ring as if you've spent the past two weeks with your ear pressed against the speakers at a heavy metal concert. Your vision is horribly blurred for nearly a full minute before it starts to return to normal. You struggle to get to your feet and look across the street at the utter carnage the sonic whatsis unleashed.

The cargo van with the fake Acumen Investigations logo is on it's side and thrown 10 feet closer to the apartment building. Actually, just part of it is. You spot what remains of the engine and portions of the hood lodged into the brick walls of your apartment building. Broken glass is everywhere. It looks like nearly every window on the street has been blown out.

The intern seems to have been shielded from the worst of it. You watch as he crawls out from under the other van with just minor scrapes and bruises, but sporting the 1000 yard stare of a war veteran.

The goons that were sent after you have sustained varying levels of injuries. Those closest to the blast point are out cold. A few are trying to get to their feet or crawling towards wherever their weapons fell. Most of the men from the last van to arrive on the scene were on the outer edge of the blast radius and look to be in pretty good fighting shape besides clearly being deaf. One of them is screaming instructions at the top of his lungs but no one is able to hear a word of it. These guys must be getting paid a hell of a lot to not give up after all this.

---

Dice Pool Limit: 5
Thalia --- 1 HP

Threat Ratings
Mooks - Impostors --- 10

Optional Side Objectives
Prevent the impostor van from getting away --- Success

You know, a five thousand dollar retainer doesn't really seem like overkill anymore, Thalia thinks.

What the hell is she going to do now?

Incredibly, she's still holding the sonic whatsis, somehow. Looking at that third dial, she now sees two cone symbols - one wide, one narrow. It was set to the widest possible configuration She leaves that one as is. Then she dials down the gun's range to about half (the original goon leader had used it at the lowest setting, probably intended for near point-blank range) and thumbs the power setting back to about one-half full power. Her spine might not survive another kick like the last one.

Crunching around in the broken glass of Stan's Stereos, she sees that her unplanned entrance has wrecked the window display - a college student mannequin lounging in his dormitory listening to music on an outrageous sound system no college dorm would likely even allow. The college student is now sprawled on the floor, his giant headphones askew. "Mind if I borrow these?" she mutters. She can't hear herself too well, so she could be yelling for all she knows. She puts on the headphones, hoping to protect whatever might be left of her eardrums, and climbs back out the broken window and onto the street.

The hearing loss suffered by the goon squad is definitely working in her favor. They're busy enough trying to coordinate their actions without effective communication that they really aren't paying attention to her. Maybe they even think she would have been too damaged from the impact with the window to be up and about yet.

God, I love being underestimated.

Her sonic whatsis now set (she hopes) to fire a wide enough cone to get lots of the goons at once, at decent range, and with heavy but not world-ending force, she crouches behind a parked car and fires at the middle of the pack of goons who are standing or moving, hoping to cast a wide, destructive net.

It looks like a behind the scenes look at a Hong Kong action flick as several men are lifted up into the air and flung backwards like they are being pulled by wires. They land in a collective heap and are definitely down for the count. One of the men with a sonic rifle sees his comrades go flying by him and panics. Completely deaf and unsure where the enemy is, the man decides the best course of action is to fire wildly in all directions.

The men around him that notice this hit the desk in hopes of avoiding friendly fire in this battle that seems to be ramping up the chaos by the second. By now the intern has realized that the fight is not over and has taken off sprinting away as fast as his legs will carry him.

A shadow quickly passes over where you are standing. Looking up you see a news copter with a harnessed camera man leaning out to catch all the action. Of course they would get here before the cops. Well, they say all press is good press. Kate Lawson might not agree, however.

---

Dice Pool Limit: 5
Thalia --- 1 HP

Threat Ratings
Mooks - Impostors --- 6

Swearing under her breath - at least, she thinks it's under her breath; between the headphones and the temporary hearing loss, who knows? - Thalia decides she needs to wrap this up quickly. Fortunately, the guy firing blindly everywhere is giving her some help keeping his cohorts out of her hair for a few seconds. But that news coverage... that's just not cool.

On her sonic whatsis, she dials the cone range to its narrowest, dials up the range a bit to ensure she can reach the chopper height, and cuts the power down. The cameraman is aiming at the mayhem and the moron firing in all directions, and the chopper itself is facing away from her. No one will see her if she acts now.

She aims the gun at the news camera, then pulls to the side so she's firing a few feet in front of the cameraman. The idea is to catch the camera with the edge of the cone and knock it out of the guy's hands. She fires.

Then she resets the gun to the previous settings and fires another wide shot at the remaining six men who aren't out of the fight. With any luck, this will put an end to this incident and let her move on to the next problem: securing the Lawson files.

The poor cameraman never sees it coming. One second he is hanging off the edge of a helicopter with a wide smile as he captures a spectacular battle and the next he's shaken to his core by the strange warbling sonic noise beaming past him.

A keen observer on the streets might feel like the world is slowing down around them to enable them to catch all of the action that takes place in the four seconds. The sonic beam fires true and lifts the camera up out of the cameraman's hands. He desperately reaches for it but the harness strapped to the helicopter keeps him in place and he has to watch as his $10,000 camera falls to its demise.

Down on the ground, you swing your weapon around to the next group of targets while simultaneously changing the settings in one clean smooth motion. The sonic whatsis fires the second you have the group in sight; leaving them no time to react before being tossed into the air by the blast.

Out of the corner of your eye you catch one of the men getting back to their feet. There is no time to get your weapon trained on him before he'll fire. Thankfully, right as their finger starts to apply pressure to the trigger, the camera lands on their head and breaks into millions of pieces which fly off in every direction.

You hear a beeping down coming form your sonic whatsis. Looking down, you see that there is a flashing indicator reading LOW BATTERY. A moment later it goes dark and you feel the weapon shut down.

There are only a couple of men still standing. Adrenaline is keeping you going right now but you know it won't last forever. You've taken just about all the damage you think you are capable of handling and now it looks like you're going to have to finish this the old fashion way.

---

Dice Pool Limit: 5
Thalia --- 0 HP

Threat Ratings
Mooks - Impostors --- 2

"What the hell is going on?" Stan, of Stan's Stereos, is yelling behind Thalia. Her hearing must be returning, because she can just make it out under the headphones. Pulling them off, she hands Stan the sonic whatsis. "Hang onto this, and get back inside the store. Don't worry - I'll make it up to you," she adds, gesturing vaguely at the broken plate glass window.

Then she darts out across the street, dive-rolling if anyone seems about to draw a bead on her, trying to keep other parked cars between her and the remaining two goons. They are grouped close enough together than she can keep them both in sight, which makes it much easier to anticipate their actions and adjust her movements accordingly.

Spotting a sonic rifle on the ground near one of the unconscious goons, she veers suddenly toward it. One of the goons levels his gun, but she's prepared with a countermeasure: she's already been twirling the headphones by the cord, and now she lets them loose. The headphones fly toward the goon's rifle.

Dive-rolling again - and crap, is she gonna feel this tomorrow - she grabs up the discarded sonic rifle from the ground, lifts it, and fires at the remaining attackers. The second one is helping her out a lot by charging toward her, putting himself close enough to the other one that she's pretty sure he's within the cone range even if it's on the narrowest setting.

The last mook is blasted into the air and comes down on the hood of a cop car just as it rounds the corner. The driver slams on the breaks and the car screeches to a halt. The cops stare out at the carnage before them with a look of pure disbelief. Even in this town they weren't expecting to find all this when they got called to investigate what was described to them as a public disturbance.

You scan the street for signs of any additional threats but are finally able to breath a sigh of relief after confirming that everyone is down. And that's when the cops draw their weapons on you.

Standing behind their open car doors, each cop has their pistol drawn as they shout orders over each other. They just got here and have no idea what has happened. They see piles of unconscious bodies, thousands of dollars of property damage, and a woman holding a rifle. Even with your damaged hearing it is clear what they are trying to communicate and you drop the weapon.

The cops close in rapidly and you let them cuff you and place you in the back of the squad car. When the EMTs arrive a few minutes later they berate the cops for putting a clearly injured person under arrest before they received medical attention. The cops begrudgingly help you out of the squad car, remove the handcuffs, and allow the EMTs to get a look at you. This doesn't stop the officers from shouting questions at you while the EMTs look over your wounds though.

---

Thalia --- 0 HP

Threat Ratings
Mooks - Impostors

Thalia is too tired - and too deafened - to even bother trying to explain what happened to the cops. Letting them cuff and stuff her into the black-and-white at least relieves her of responsibility for the scene temporarily, giving her a chance to rest a little and organize her thoughts.

Once she's sitting on the bumper of the ambulance, letting the EMTs fret over the numerous lacerations, scrapes, and bruises she's sustained in the fight, she is trying to explain that she's hard of hearing right now and to please just let her tell the story instead of shouting questions she can't hear. Fortunately, that's when the intern shows up again.

Thalia can't hear a lot of what he says, since he's pitching his voice for people who hadn't sonic-blasted themselves across a city street, but she can tell from his face and body that he's telling them the straight, unvarnished truth. As she watches, the cops start to relax a little in their attitude toward her. Some of them even glance over at her with something like admiration.

When the intern is finished, she says - well, yells - "My name is Thalia Trimble of Acumen Investigations. My office is right up there." She points to the window, from which her Extend-O-Ladder is still clamped. "All of these file boxes are legally under my care. I have to secure them." She points to the overturned, wrecked van. "Most of them are in that vehicle. A few are still in the other van. One box got opened and spilled during the fight. My client's legally protected privacy is at stake. I need to ensure that none of the files leaves my possession and that no names are disclosed, to anyone."

Then, for good measure, she adds, "Also, one of these guys shot down a news camera while he was firing wildly."

The cops listen to what you have to say and tell you that they're going to need a minute. By now, the EMTs have wrapped up as best they can. Shockingly, you don't have any broken bones and they expect you to be back to normal in a week or two. They can't comment on the hearing and suggest that you might need to see a specialist, but you can feel it getting better already. You have no doubt your ears will be ringing for days but aren't expecting permanent hearing loss.

The intern thanks you profusely and then gets to work gathering the documents that got lose on the street. Out behind the caution tape you see your landlord has arrived and is very animatedly shouting about the damage done to his building. It doesn't seem like he has spotted you yet so, at least for the time being, he does not know you were involved.

One of the cops comes back and you can tell from the look on his face that he doesn't have good news. He gets uncomfortably close so he doesn't have to shout. "I know you're not going to like this but I spoke with my superiors and they consider everything here evidence. I called this--" he checks his notes, "Emilia Howard and confirmed that you are legally in possession of these documents. That's fine. We don't want to take them from you but we need to see to it that they are secured until we are sure they won't be needed as evidence. Once we confirm the rest of your story, you and the documents will be released. Do you need a ride down to the station? We shouldn't have to hold you up for more than a few hours. Scout's Honor."

Thalia thinks quickly. If she refuses to cooperate, she risks alienating the SEPD at best and being taken formally into custody at worst. But she can't just consign herself to possible detention for hours without making some arrangements first. She reads the officer's name from his uniform.

"Look, Officer Greeley, I don't know how much help I can be to you when I can barely hear," she says, shouting even though her hearing is improving pretty steadily now. Having everyone on the scene think she's mostly deaf could prove useful. "But I'm certainly willing to cooperate in any way I can. I'd be happy to accept a ride to the station from you, if you're the one offering. But first, I need to go upstairs and lock my office. I also need to provide Ms. Howard's intern with documentation that shows I accepted delivery of the files and that they were then confiscated by the police. Need to dot the i's and cross the t's legally, you know."

Greeley looks uncertain, but the essential logic and reasonableness of her request wins out and he nods. She slides off the ambulance bumper intending to limp a little to reinforce her image of walking wounded, but she finds she doesn't have to fake it at first. Already, her muscles are beginning to tighten from the sudden and prolonged overexertion from the fight followed by sudden cessation of movement. She knows from experience this will ease pretty quickly, but it's a sobering indicator of how close she came to losing this battle to save the files.

And now, she might lose them anyway, to the police.

Hobbling over to the intern, she extends her arm for a handshake and shouts, "Thalia Trimble. Glad to meet you, under less threatening circumstances."

He smiles and shakes her hand, shouting back so she can hear. "Richard Selmer. Thanks for stopping that guy from blasting me with... whatever that thing was."

Waving that off, she shouts, "Can you come up to my office? I need to give you a receipt for the files."

He readily agrees, and she hobbles to the entrance to the building, trying to keep Richard between her and the landlord. Avoiding a confrontation with him right now seems like a good idea. She notices that Officer Greeley speaks to another cop, the supervising officer on the scene, and then follows them into the building and onto the elevator up to her floor.

"We'll just be a moment," she shouts at Greeley with a smile, then ushers Richard into her office and closes the door. "Let me find that receipt pad," she shouts again, then drags Richard into the tiny bathroom in the office. The look on the intern's face is equal parts concern for his safety and slight hope that he's about to experience a situation suited for a Penthouse letter.

Pitching her voice in a low whisper - which she can now hear, just barely - she says, "Look, I don't have a lot of time, so listen carefully. I will give you a receipt, but I need you to ask Emilia to pick out an attorney she trusts and send them to the police station as my representation. I'm worried about those files getting leaked. Tell her to ensure that the originals are extra secure back at the firm, because someone is suddenly very interested in them. Also, I'm going to write a note with a phone number and exactly what I want you to say to the person who answers."

Then she leaves the bathroom and hurries to the desk, opening and closing drawers for the sound effects. "Ah, here it is," she yells, picking out the receipt pad from a perfectly organized drawer. She scrawls a receipt explaining the unusual chain of custody for the file boxes, and a note for Emilia to ask Richard for further details. She seals them in an envelope with Acumen Investigations letterhead, then scrawls another note on plain notepad paper with a phone number, the name Eddie Ramirez, and the words, Get eyes on Reuben Phillips immediately. High school kid, lives within a block or two of this address. She lists Andrew Lawson's home address prior to his enforced relocation. Could be in danger. May need intervention. No voice messages - if you can't reach me directly, coordinate with Cyn.

A polite knock - well, polite for a cop knock - lets Thalia know that Officer Greeley is getting a little concerned, and she smiles at him as he opens the office door. She hands the envelope to Richard, with the folded note for Eddie behind it. "Tell Emilia I'm sorry for all the trouble. I'm sure we'll get this all straightened out downtown."

Holding up one finger to Greeley, she trots over to the window and retracts and stows Jamal's Extend-O-Ladder, closing and locking her office window. Remarkably, its glass is intact. Seven floors must have been high enough to avoid damage.

Grabbing her bag and a thigh-length lightweight trench coat, she smiles at Greeley again as she leads the way from the office, locking the door behind them.