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Mar-27-2007 21:12

A roaming speakeasy, where the jazz is hot, the liquor flows freely, and the only way in is to find a certain rat-faced, sleazily dressed Twerp of a stoolie and beg him for directions. For a price, of course....

Mar-27-2007 21:14

Dave wound his way through the boisterous crowd. He spied a couple of Big Lucy's associates throughout the Cabaret, one person in particular catching his interest. Shady was sitting at a table in a dark corner of the room, isolated away from the rest of the mob. Dave readjusted his hat and loosened his tie, then wove his wave 'drunkenly' through the throng.

"HOW MUCH, dammit?!" he yelled.

Horace Villier, known to most as Shady in the less-respectable parts of New York, looked up at him in surprise. "How much fer what?" he replied.

Dave reached down and grabbed him by the shirt collar, preparing to haul him to his feet. "HOW MUCH to make my wife's record clean, you low-life bas-?" he growled loudly.

Shady raised his hands placatingly, "Okay, okay, let's talk about this. How bout ya have a seat and I'll buy ya a drink?"

Dave paused for a minute, then fell drunkenly into a chair opposite Shady, "Hey Harry. How's it hangin'?" he asked him, talking softly now.

A weak look of relief crossed Shady's face, "Better, now that you're not about to strangle me." He tossed back the rest of his whiskey, then crooked a finger at a passing barmaid and pointed a finger at his empty glass, and indicated one for Dave as well. He smiled at Dave, "I hear you guys found your kidnapped girl this morning. Congratulations. That was quick work."

The brief smile on Dave's face didn't reach the worry in his eyes. "Thank you. We got lucky. Very, very lucky."

Shady handed him his drink. "You don't look too happy 'bout it."

Dave sipped his whiskey, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "I'm not. HYDRA's hit twice in less than a month. I've got a bad feeling in my gut."

Harry grimaced, "Ouch. You get that feeling, and the muckety-mucks start havin' heart attacks. What's up?"

Dave leaned forward, slipping his hat a little lower over his brow, "You remember those papers you found on that sting we did in that warehouse bout two months ago?"

Mar-27-2007 21:19

Shady nodded imperceptibly, "Yeah. You guys finally decode 'em?"

Dave chugged his whiskey, "Yep, they got 'em done. Turns out the papers were a schematic for what looks like some kinda new-fangled weapon. The physics boys are goin' bananas over them right now." He eyed Shady searchingly, "I need your help, Harry."

Shady studied his whiskey glass for a moment, then looked up at Dave and nodded silently.

"Ossie still has people deep undercover all over Europe?" Dave asked him.

Harry glanced around, then drank from his glass. "Yep, we just sent a team into Berlin to check out whatever's going on with that new German President of theirs, whatever his name is. Art's half-convinced the guy's nuts."

Dave nodded, thinking Art was probably right. "I need anything the Office of Strategic Services can dig up on prototypical weapons, arms smuggling, unusual recent military tactics or manuevers from the Germans, Austrian-Hungarians, Prussians, Slavs, anyone in the Rhineland section where our peculiar Teutonic friend has been dipping his toes in the water, as it were. Pay special focus on anything you guys can find with something called 'kernwaffe'. Think Ossie can handle that?"

Harry shrugged, "We'll see what we can dig up." He watched Dave's bride come in and make her way over to a table a couple of spots over. She sat down with two ladies, one in a sealskin coat, and a second who was chatting with a cigarette girl.

Dave nodded slightly, then looked back at Shady, “I’ll go talk to Walter and his boys out back. I gotta talk to them anyways about the gun-running stuff they’re tracking down for us. I’ll contact you in a few days.” He rose unsteadily to his feet, appearing to be very drunk and livid. “Half a million?!?” he roared, “I’ll be DAMNED if I’m gonna pay that much. Go to hell, Shady!"

Mar-27-2007 21:20

Harry watched the War Department general wobble his way through the mob, heading towards the back room of the Cabaret. He looked over at Dave’s wife Breit, and her companions at the adjoining table. He sighed to himself as he finished off the last of his drink. Things were getting too blasted dangerous, for way too many people....

Mar-28-2007 00:09

A man approached Breit with an envelope in his left hand.

Breit stopped her vibrant conversation and turned to the man with an enquiring glare. The man approached her to whisper some words in her ear, but as she recoiled he realised he would have to speak up.

“Telegram for Mr. David-”

“Who’s it from?”

“Shanghai…”

“I’ll take it thank you.” Breit grabbed the telegram from the messenger’s hand, and, as she ripped the envelope open and proceeded to read the telegram, she did not even notice him blend back into the crowds:

TO DAVE STOP
GEORGES NOT AFTER STOP
BARRY GRANT STOP
I AM IN SHANGHAI STOP
WILL BE IN TOUCH STOP
VIOLET PARR STOP

Breit, appearing concerned, quickly hid the telegram into the folds of her dress.