The Portrait of Zool Posted June 15, 2006 Report Share Posted June 15, 2006 Scanning the tight crowd I quickly saw what I had come for, though I would never have guessed he was the one if he wasn't giving the signal. A plainly dressed elderly gentleman, walking to the left of me, his right index finger laying along the bridge of his nose. I nonchalanly sidestepped in front of him, as if to move out of the way of a doe-eyed young couple. Right on cue, the old man unloaded. "Ah-choo!" I looked down at the droplets and chunks glistening on the front of my jacket. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" exclaimed the old man. He sounded so convincing. I donned the look of the injured. "Thanks mister..." I let my voice fade out with a slight waver. I can be convincing too. He whipped out a handkerchief and made motions like we was going to try and clean it off. I ducked and headed for the exit, saying "Forget it, jerk!" over my shoulder, wondering how far he thought he should go to make it look good - but he knew and I knew I had to get this back to the lab to read the recoded DNA, and extract the courierred message. As I left, I failed to notice a figure entering across the room in a dark trench coat, his clandestivisor pulled low and his right index finger laying along the bridge of his nose... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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