[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=ed1c24][center][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Chapter%20Two%3A%20Retribution&name=SATAM___.ttf&size=50&style_color=ed1c24[/img][hr][img]http://www.lowbird.com/data/images/2009/06/aceeyepoke.gif[/img][/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][center][h3] [b][i]Date:[/i][/b] Monday May 22nd, 2017[/h3][/center][center][hr] [@Sigil] [@Morose] [@Dragoknighte] [@Nallore] [@Scallop][/center][hr][hr] [b][i][color=ed1c24]Chicago Heights :[/color][/i][/b] - Oh Ms. Amy Adams of Channel Six News was not about to give up that easily. Turning she looked at the camera and flashed a smile. "Seems our doctor is tight lipped about the murder that happened at the asylum yesterday. Is this a guilty consciousness for failing a patient or have the administrators of the home for the insane made orders to say nothing and she is just covering her own rear end? We will find out! Stay tuned! This is Amy Adams of Channel Six News, back to you John. What's our weather forecast look like today?" she said and held that newswoman smile until she got the all clear from her camera man. Soon as she was off the air she turned around to Iris and her smile faded. "Alright, camera is off. Now, just what is going on down there? At least one was murdered, one was taken to the hospital," she started as she whipped out her note pad and flipped it open. "A one Felix Hausten. An Author from over seas, newly arrived here in Justice." Looking up from her note pad she touched the tip of her pencil to her tongue and eyed Iris. "Here's your chance to speak anonymously." [b][i][color=ed1c24]Zoies Farm:[/color][/i][/b] - "Ohs good lucks gettings him to answer shit right nows. Soon as his nose goes into that computers of his he walls everythang else out," Zoie said as she glared at her brother and tapped her foot on the ground. Marc sighed but nodded as he rubbed his face. [color=82ca9d]"Yeah, kid goes off into his own little world..."[/color] Marc started. "I'm checking to see if Ross has a CIA file," Relic said before glancing over at Mali and winking with a grin. Marc and Zoie half gawked at him for answering. "Why the hell would he have a file?" Marc asked, now really damn interested in just what in the hell Relic was up to. Relic didn't answer, just kept hacking away and periodically looking over at Mali. "That girl Valentine, she has one. It's redacted to hell and back but she has one. Now wondering if Ross has a connection with her," he said speaking to Mali and ignoring the other two. After a few minutes he laughed and turned his computer around to show them the screen. He hadn't been hacking the CIA. At least not right then. He had been doing a search on Barney Ross to see what his public history was, a damn simple google search. He had pulled up the Barney Ross website and simple went to the ~About Barney Page~ "Here, read this..." [i]Barney Ross, born and raised in Salisbury Maryland, is a fitness icon and has been for the last thirty years. A decorated war veteran, after he retired from an illustrious career decided to start training the fittest of the fit. His decades of experience have helped him cultivate one of the largest Gym Franchisees and Fitness Equipment Suppliers in the Nation. He is a devoted family man though never have been married himself. He is the eldest of two sons born to former CIA director Marcus Bethal and has one niece."[/i] [b][i][color=ed1c24]Gun Range[/color][/i][/b] - "That would explain how you have survived in Justice so long," Roy chuckled as he drove them towards the Gun Range. "Guess using a gun wasn't really on the skills to learn list for an assassin? What did you major in, star chucking?" he teased. Then Roy got quiet as Riley started to tell him about her High School days. That was one hell of an event to live through but it still didn't explain how she had fired a gun once before. Quirking a brow he looked over to her. "Hey, I'm a detective, not a physic. How did a dead body hanging from the ceiling end at prom get to you firing a gun at a serial killer?" he asked in a rather interested voice. This sounded like some bad murder mystery theme for a weekend get away trip. [b][i][color=ed1c24]MSS Private Jet:[/color][/i][/b] - [color=f26522]"Sure thing, need anything just let me know. Right away. Doctors orders,"[/color] Natasha said before nodding to Cecily about getting some rest. That sounded like a great idea. Granted she would much have rather been curled up in bed with Lincoln right then but a private jet wasn't such a bad way to spend in the air. Could have been far worse, like coach in some commercial air liner sat next to some over weight man who sweat the entire time and kept trying to talk to her despite a horrid case of halitosis. Sitting down in her seat, Natasha got comfortable and tried to relax. Dosing in and out of sleep here and there. She never could sleep well on flights but a little rest was better than nothing. She looked up to see the single on flight stewardess coming over to her and placing their inflight meal before her. It was much better quality than anything she had expected. Perking a brow she looked at her plate and then back at the woman. "I was informed you are recovering from cancer. This meal should sit well with your meds, a bit blander than what we normally serve but it and some ginger ale should do you some good," she said with a smile. Baked chicken, steamed vegis, and some plain rice were on her plate along with a slice of angel food cake for dessert. "Thought you could handle this to sweeten up the meal," she said kindly before making her way over to the others. Their meals were much more flavorful. Beef Wellington, seared asparagus, scalloped potatoes, and raspberry cheesecake for dessert. Placing the meals on the tables before the two she asked Cecily what she wanted to drink. She didn't bother asking Caesar, bringing him his usual. The flight was going well and they were half way there at this time. (We will even up times between those in Mexico and Justice later on.) [b][i][color=ed1c24]Justice Airport:[/color][/i][/b] - The walk over to gate 18D wasn't too bad, it was a bit from where Keystone had been sitting but due to the fact the flight was arriving early there were not many there waiting to board for the next flight out as of yet. By the time Keystone arrived, the one person in a wheel chair was already deboarding the flight followed by a slow line of first class people behind the old woman. It would be a few before business class and coach were able to gather their carryon's and get off the plane. A flight attendant was standing at the end of the walkway, giving her usual "thank you for flying, have a good day, or yes, gate such and such is that way, or you can claim your baggage here," lines to the first class people as the disembarked from the flight. No one from MSS had left the flight yet. More people began to come down the path, until no one else seemed to be coming down the walkway tunnel. That was until a group rounded the corner, self separated from the rest of passengers. A mixed group of men and women but it was obvious who they were. They all dressed in black and held that MSS look on their features as if they were there to do a job. [b][i][color=ed1c24]Justice Memorial:[/color][/i][/b] - The News ended with a recap of the traffic situations in Justice, which as always were horrible, and a forecast for the day - Cloudy with a chance of thunderstorms rolling in that evening thanks to the heatwave running through the area. Once the Daily News was done, the flipped their programming to the Reports on the National Level. It would roll back to local in a couple of hours. After a few minutes of commercials on the TV advertising everything from the teaser for the newest Reality Show to be aired that fall, Old Spice, and so forth the nurse finally came into the room. She was older, rather foul looking with a stern face that could have only be achieved from decades of working in the field. She dressed as if she was still a newly practicing nurse in the 1970's - complete with short white boxy heels that clanked hard on the tiled floor, boring white dress, and cap. Her gray hair pulled up in a whispy bun at the back of her neck. "What seems to be your problem? Not like the jello?" she snarked as she started checking the vitals monitor.