[b][center][h2]Paige Kennedy[/h2][/center][/b]



The message wasn’t from Milo and neither was it anything she expected, but popped right up as her phone obediently unlocked; just two images: a pair of black shorts and a gray shirt, what looked like men’s gym clothes. Paige’s brow furrowed slightly. She still had a Delta City area code and wrong numbers were not at all common for her in Sol City. Her lips twisted slightly in annoyance, but as she looked up briefly [i]she saw it[/i]. The very same clothes as the image. They were on a wiry framed man. He looked about middle-age with short hair and had ears that were distinct, cauliflowered like a boxer. She could only catch a few glances as people passed between them across the lobby. He carried a bag over shoulder and was moving away from her quickly.  Raising back up to her feet she watched him swiftly access a secured door where he casually swiped a magnetic card and moved along. 

She didn’t think, just reacted, feeling for her star inside her bag. She produced it quickly as she rambled up to the reception counter at the center of the lobby. People regarded her frantic pace strangely and the staff that were calmly chatting looked on her at first with a sort of childish amusement. “Can I help you?”

“Open that door.” She commanded flatly and nodding where the man had just slipped away. 

“I’m sorry that door is for staf-”

“Open the Goddamn door!” Paige growled back through her teeth, green eyes blazing beneath her cap and cutting off the woman. She slapped her leather badge holder on the counter top showing the silver star to all who had taken notice. “[i]Please.[/i]”

The receptionist looked dumbfounded and slightly embarrassed, but very quietly tapped a few commands into her keyboard. Paige didn’t bother to look back as she took off for the door and only caught a fleeting glimpse of one of the staff picking up the phone as she shot through the newly unlocked doorway. It occurred to her that “GD” was probably not the best choice of words immediately after submitting a prayer to the Almighty, but her mind was focused again. She was moving. [i]He couldn’t have got that far in only a few seconds[/i]. Her thoughts raced. The corridor ahead was long with various sports offices along the side. Considering the man’s pace, she was sure he wouldn’t likely be stopping and she was somewhere between a healthy jog and a sprint as her running shoes patted against the firm office carpet. She was still carrying her badge in one hand while her bag bounced along behind and she was again glad for changing clothes. 

Windows lined the opposing side of the corridor viewing the football field below and again she felt her anticipation screaming that she was on the right track. There were two Daedalus helicopters parked along midfield, rotors drooping gently at rest. If one of them was Marlin then her luck was soaring again. She glanced, midstride, partly watching where she was going as a corner approached and partly seeing a couple people talking next to the machines on the field. One was female, definitely blonde. [i]YES![/i] Her thoughts screamed as she rounded the corner... and ran face first into a black and white suit-clad figure. For a split second she only caught the flash of a red tie directly in front of her eyes as she heard the wind knocked out of him and she hit the floor. Her eyes instantly shot back towards the obstacle and the heavy set figure that did not likewise topple over; finding the less than imposing, overweight yet barrier-like figure of FBI Agent Barrett. 

“Gah! What the hell!” He roared nearly losing his glasses. Pushing the frames firmly back up his wrinkled nose, his other hand instinctively gripped his sidearm as he regained his bearings. 

Paige knew she was fast, but not fast enough to pull her own gun from her bag- It was first her first reaction as well, but he had her dead to rights. She got up slowly, feeling her pulse slamming through her veins as his hand rested on the grip and he recognized her.

“Well, isn’t this just perfect timing Marshal Kennedy.” His hand didn’t move from the pistol. “I was just about to call Chief Deputy Sterling to put a BOLO out on you, but this will save me the trouble.”

“For what?” Paige snarled. She stood defensively in a staggered stance with her hands at her sides. [i]He wasn’t going to take her in[/i]. If he pulled on her, she was just going to kick his ass. She never believed in the twenty-one foot rule, but was willing to bet her life on being able to put a fifty year old man on the ground before he could clear his holster. 

He grinned through coffee and cigarette stained teeth. “I have the video of you collaborating with Shannon Giancana to set up Elvin Santos’ murder. I knew you were dirty, Marshal, and I’m going to prove it. You may have got away with it in Delta City, but not here.” 

That was it. Paige wasn’t sure, down deep at the molecular level, maybe somewhere atomic or even smaller, where the first audio-neural receptor received the words out of Barrett’s disgusting face, but that was where the fire ignited inside her soul, exploded down her arm into a clenched fist that was programmed and aimed directly at the man’s sweaty nose, but before she could unload, Barrett hit the floor face first before her in a heap.

Milo glanced down at the unconscious body between them and rubbed his forearm slightly, then looked up at Paige’s outfit quizzically. [color=f26522]”Guess they cancelled Sweatin’ to the Oldies, huh?”[/color]

[@PrinceAlexus]