A Station Eight Fan Web Site
Displaying 1 record.
Consciousness returned to my body. My eyes were stinging and heavy. I cracked open a dried socket and tried to make sense of where I was. The sun was up, enough light was getting through to help me establish I was in a hotel room. My last memories were hazy, involving a military facility and being rushed onto an aircraft. Was I drugged?
I took stock of myself. I was on the floor, still wearing my clothing from yesterday. I sensed I wasn't alone in the room, whoever was keeping me here seemed to not be paying attention. I clawed my way across the floor into the washroom. I quietly used the facilities and showered, not wanting to find out what would happen if my 'hosts' were woken up. I slipped out of the room and found myself in a large and upscale hotel. I stumbled out into the sunlight. The heat and flora told me I was in California. Disoriented, it took me some time to scale down the hill and find a street. The presence of Universal Studios meant I could only be in Los Angeles. My advanced knowledge of American geography dictates that walking in any one direction long enough will bring me to a McDonalds. Like most Canadians I had a useful amount of US currency in my wallet and obtained some vague semblance of nurishment. And coffee.
The only way to figure out why I was brought here was to get back into the hotel. The climb back was further burdened with the fast food rotting away in my stomach. Approaching cautiously, I found a contact had left a dead drop in the form of an envelope with my codename on it. Inside was a T shirt that would help me blend in with the locals and a book full of coded instructions. I could infiltrate this secret society by hiding in the background or in plain sight. I chose plain sight. A number of events seemed to rotate around a 'Radio Play'. This requried an audition so I feigned an accent to make the leaders of this group think I was European. Ironically, after the audition, the group I was trying to infiltrate offered a lecture on voice acting, which would likely be useful should I be cast in the play. This was also an opportunity to examine the leaders of this strange group. After conducting some surveillance and link analysis I had a chance to speak with a British operative who may have been on the same mission as me. I determined this because other people were noting that nobody had seen her there before. We also assessed together that Top Gear is the best show on British Television that isn't Gargoyles. I also conversed briefly with a fellow Canadian. But being both female and French I knew she wasn't to be trusted. Also her badge identified her as ONE OF THEM. Someone responsible for a project called 'Bad Guys' can't be up to anything good.
Soon it was time for the play rehearsal and play itself. I was delighted to find we weren't going to read 'Dianetics' or something. I was able to keep a copy of the script which, as we speak, is being analyzed for subliminal subversion. Also I felt I may have been losing myself in my cover. I was starting to feel the mind control effects of the group's supreme leader.
I made contact with a former US Navy operator and we able to abduct a 'biology research scientist' that belonged to this secret society and we debriefed her at a 'Fatburger'. What would this group need with a biology scientist? Germ warfare? Genetic manipulation? I was in deep, thankfully I wasn't alone.
Back at the hotel I slid into a late night session code named 'Blue Mug'. Nothing I had seen previously had prepared me for this. People were discussing things like how a gargoyle would [CLASSIFIED=========================================================================================================CLASSIFIED]with salad dressing.
Also a cultist presented a ranking member with somekind of magic underwear. It was difficult to see from the back. Exfiltration occurred around 1150 hours GMT -8
More to follow...over.
And we're all very grateful for your service...