On The Trail

I looked at the file.

"I know him, and I know how he thinks, how he acts. He's not going to waste his time, everything he did in the six months he was holed up here, it will be important to find out where he went next.

So, he was studying French, scuba diving, and the SS President Coolidge. So clearly, he's going to Vanuatu."

"But doesn't he know you're after him, so wouldn't he throw you off the trail?"

He stared at me.

"Do you want a free trip to Vanuatu or not?"

It was lovely, to be fair.

The Bug Is The Feature

The mission was important, but it needed plausible deniability. If the target got even a whiff of the movement to oust him by any means necessary, he could retaliate against those planning to remove him, since they were under him in the power structure.

So there were middlemen and a lack of communication between the two ends of the plan.

Thus, it's no surprise that the cheaply hired bagmen managed to put the bugs in the neighbouring apartment from the target.

What is a surprise is that the target's choice of affair was so close to home, literally and figuratively.

Customs

The paperwork was fully completed out, but the guard was still asking questions.

"And how long will you be in the country, again?"

"As I said, a month."

"And you'll be staying with this John Lindsburg?"

"Lindson, not Lindsburg."

"Ah yes, right. And the purpose of your visit?"

"Tourism, and... Nothing else."

The guard seized upon this.

"And, huh? You doing something else while you're here? You want to come clean now?"

He sighed.

"John Lindson is my gay lover."

The guard coughed, and waved the man through, satisfied with that explanation, and thus not bothering to check his bag.

Five's A Party

They were lined up against the wall, the four of them.

The firing squad were lined up, Forcebolt wanda aiming at their heads. The Guard Captain raised his hand.

The Paladin called out to stop, she had to finish her prayer. The squad waited.

The Guard Captain raised his hand.

The Ranger screamed, and asked for a blindfold. The squad waited.

Hand went up. The Rogue asked for a cigarette. The squad waited.

The Mage just stared at the Guard Captain as they raised and lowered their hand.

The Bard, still impersonating the Guard Captain, snuck out with the Loot.

Rewards Of Compromise

We'd caught him at dawn, typing him up quick.

It was an hour before sundown and they were still arguing about what to do with him.

Glen and Pete were insistent we take him to Valley Garden over the border, reward was greater.

But Big and Little Dex were insistent that we take him to Bluebush, as the crimes he was wanted for there were greater.

I lost patience, and untied him. Then shot him in the back as he ran.

"Bluebush will take him dead, Valley Garden won't."

No-one was happy, so you know it was a good compromise.

Fists

They had three fistfights across thirty-five years.

The first was when they were nine and eleven respectively. Rick got a John Diaz rookie card in his baseball card pack, and Chuck wanted it. Chuck won.

The second was ten years later. Rick found Chuck in bed with his girlfriend, and was, somewhat understandably, upset about it. Rick won, although his girlfriend left him, so Chuck viewed it as a moral victory.

The third fight, twenty-five years after that one, was over a ultra-rare signed mint John Diaz rookie card worth thousands. Rick's wife won, since Chuck got life for murder.

Dealing

The cop slammed a hand on the shoulder of the suspect.

"You're under arrest!"

"What? For what?"

"Drug dealing. You were doing it just now, I heard you!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You just offered that woman heroin!"

The suspect laughed.

"You find this amusing?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't offering her heroin! No no, I was offering her a heroine, with an E. See, I have some heroines here!"

The suspect reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny person, who then shot up and punched the police officer.

The suspect was arrested for false advertising.

The Job

The four of them had different stories.

The Driver said that The Gunman was the boss, he only went along with it because The Gunman threatened their kid.

The Gunman swore up and down that The Safecracker was the boss, and that she would have killed him if he didn't pull the trigger.

The Safecracker was insistent that The Inside Man brought them all in, and that he was quite persuasive, with his blade.

The Inside Man just kept repeating that The Driver was the boss, and scary.

The Detective let them all stew, while running off with The Loot.

Fix Up

The test could detect any atom of material that shouldn't be there, to remove it before teleport.

If it knew what it was to teleport, it scanned the item, detected every atom that was out of place, and fixed it. Usually just leaving it behind, but occasionally fixing it, putting things back right as it teleported, fixing the damage.

Now, in theory, if someone could build subatomic nanobots, and implant them into a device with damage, the teleporter would 'fix' the item and bring those nanobots up.

But that's theoretical. No-one has subatomic nanobots.

Well, they didn't until today, see.

Crossfire

The two thieves, hidden in the basement, could hear the sheriff and his men just outside the shack. Orders being given, a perimeter formed, lines made.

They waited, pistols drawn, waiting for them to kick down the door, or order them to come out.

Instead, they heard gunshots, hundreds of them, and lots of shouting, until eventually, silence.

The sheriff crawled into the shack, blood oozing from several wounds, but a native came in, slit his throat, and left.

The thieves were safe.

Or would have been, if they hadn't shot each other to save themselves from dying slow like.

Drivers

The driver behind got distracted by their phone for just a second, but enough to run into the car ahead of them.

The driver ahead got angry by being run into the back of, but enough self-control remained not to charge out.

The driver behind got on the offensive, but not enough to convince the other driver they were in the wrong.

The driver ahead got angry even more, but only just stood yelling at the driver behind.

The driver coming up later got both of them, but they were only worth ten points each because they weren't paying attention.

Nothing Illegal

The boss of the betting company didn't ask him to lose the fight, or threaten uus children, not at all.

All he did was remark on how beautiful his children were, and how much it would help the betting industry if, as the heavy favorite, he were to lose. And offered him a donation to his children's college fund, if anything he was being super nice!

So when the fighter decided to take the 'donation' and bet on himself, it was very unkind of him.

But luckily the ref had children who needed college funds too, and he got DQed.

The Feeling

The Feeling was felt by a sizable percentage of the galaxy. The few who were asked about it before they left said that they just knew there was something beautiful for them 'there'.

'There' turned out to be Babocha 4. Across a few years, people would make their way to the planet, make their way to a specific cliff, and then looking out off it.

And then the feeling was just... Gone. They couldn't explain it, and most made their way home.

Eventually the government got charged for galactic law mental alteration crimes, and won every major tourism award going.

What A Boob

The motorcycle drove up to the gate, and revved its engine. The guard slowly walked out of his booth.

"Yeah?"

The rider pointed at the gate. The guard shook his head.

"Sorry, orders, no-one is getting through without authorisation."

The rider's helmet drooped, and they began to undo their leather jacket, quickly showing off some skin, of a female nature.

"Like I said, you need authorisation, not just boobs."

The rider pulled out a piece of paper and held it out. The guard coughed.

"And of course I meant... Wait this is blank?"

He looked up to a gun barrel.

Avoiding Unpleasant Questions

The accounts sat for decades, untouched. The bank had no reason to believe that they were illegal, or at the least immoral. No legally binding reason, that is.

After all, they were just numbers on cards, and then numbers on a computer. The money didn't exist out of that, as it were.

But then the accounts were accessed, the money drained, the accounts left with just enough to avoid them closing, which would lead to questions.

Meetings were held, to decide if they should investigate. The managing director decided not to.

Then drove off in his new expensive sports car.

Plans Change

The blueprint waa quite clear, the bunker was under the house, accessible through a secret staircase down and to the right, hidden behind the bookcase.

We broke in, got rid of the current occupants, found the secret staircases, tried to get into it, gave up, then set some charges around the floor of the library.

When we blew it, it brought down half the building as it all fell into a dirt pile.

But even though I'm in jail because of it, I respect a contractor who sees a saving to be made by putting a bunker under the garden.

One To Watch

The job posting, by being the oldest, was the first one you saw on the message board.

"Please find my watch!"

Newbie independent contractors or those just coming on board would see it, take the job, search for a few hours around the captain's quarters, come up empty, give up. It became the running gag of the station.

Until she disembarked the starferry.

She read the job, and tracked down the poster, and asked a simple question, and had the watch back in twenty minutes.

No-one else thought to check if it wasn't technically his watch yet, but the captain's.

Give Him Two Minutes

"Just give me two minutes, ok?"

He went into the bathroom and slammed the door. The Driver went to go after him, still angry, but I stopped him.

"Look, you're new, so I'll cut you some slack. But The Boss does his best thinking on the john, I bet you after the two minutes are up, he'll have a plan to get out of this. Trust me."

The Driver grunted then stared at his phone's clock. After two minutes, he barged in.

"Oh, he has a plan all right. Get two minutes head start."

The open bathroom window swung sadly.

Usually A Secretary

No matter how big or small the company, there's always the one employee it all rides on.

This seems obvious when a business has just one or two people working there, but when thousands work under one umbrella, it sounds impossible. Although I'm sure the Chairperson or CEO or whatever would claim it's them. And it could, I suppose.

But there's always one person who knows where the bodies are buried. Not literally (usually), but every company has its skeletons, and there's always someone who knows where they are.

Your company doesn't have one?

Well you aren't them, then, clearly.

Complications

The plan started simple. Interrupt the van as it transported the loot, and then steal it.

Then came the idea to him them as they loaded the loot on, saving roadwork, but then needing a more complex plan of attack.

And then the driver knew a guy who could pawn the loot quicker, but was a state over, which made things even more complicated.

Then the boss called us together and demanded we do this without loud guns, for fear of the cops.

This led to a very simple plan, as ratting to the Fuzz proved to be extremely easy.