Modern Tech
The radio gives way to static as the two agents move further down the Eras. The dark sky above them is the only constant thing in this winding slope down the timeline. It brightens with the promise of a grey sunrise. Steele holds the small device in her free hand, and the music blips, buzzes, and fades.
“Out of radio range.” Steele pauses, and looks back at the road from the future. “What year is it?”
“Probably mid-1800s,” Cooper replies, taking in the Victorian architecture the buildings have slipped into. He watches his partner for a silent moment. “Our hit is this kid Jack.”
“Duh.”
“It’s not our job to investigate the pirate radio station,” he said, his voice anything but tender, as he continued down the road. “As much as I’d like to jump on a lead like that.”
Steele gave him a look. “I know what the goddamn job is. It’s not as if we’d be able to contact the higher ups about this anyway.” That wasn’t entirely true… they could speak with the Generals-for-hire, like Mr. March, when they checked in. After this kill.
The continued down the lonely, timeless road for a ways.
“Do you really think they have cameras everywhere?” Cooper asked after a minute, looking over his shoulder as if he’d be able to spot them.
“If they did, they’d know about the radio station in a hot second. And the whereabouts of our kid,” Steele added hastily. “If they had cameras on every inch of this place, we’d be out of a job.”
“Not entirely out of a job.”
They stopped in front of a shabby looking shop. A hammer and anvil were painted, the black chipping away to grey against the wooden blacksmith front. Cooper rested his hand on the doorknob, and paused.
“I thought you just wanted to get this job over with?” he asked.
“I do.” She paused before continuing, as if testing the weight of her next words. She shook her head. “If we figure out who he got the radio from, they might know where this bugger is.” She rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”
They stepped through the threshold into the shop. It was lowly lit by half a dozen lamps, and smelled like burning coal. The floor was stone and trashed with hay and metal scraps. A hearth was ablaze in a corner, the only sign of life. It looked impeccably accurate to its Era—as it should be.
“Blacksmith’s outta town,” a gruff voice said from one of the worktables. The man glanced up at the two agents, and caught sight of their sleek trench coats with a little surprise. “Oh, sorry.” His voiced changed at once to a lighter tone. “Whasup? What can I do for you? Sorry, most people come through the modern entrance unless they’re from the Victorian Era.” He jerked his thumb behind his shoulder.
Steele glowered at Cooper. “There’s a modern entrance?”
He ignored her, and took the radio from her hands. He walked up to the shopkeeper, and set the radio down before him with a soft clunk. With his other hand, he swung out his gun and pointed it lazily at the man’s midriff. The keeper threw his hands up with a slur of frightened curses.
“Jesus, Cooper!” Steel said crossly.
“Let me tell you how this is going to go,” Cooper said, resting his elbow on the table. “I’m going to ask you if you sell these radios. You’re going to show me your complete stock of modern tech. Then I’m going to ask you if you sell any sort of device that can reach hidden stations.”
He flipped his left hand up, pinching thumb to fingers. “Oh, no sir, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Cooper clapped his thumb to fingers as he imitated the keeper’s voice. He held up the hand with the gun, and began to do the same thing, which was a bit of a feat and the gun was now swinging everywhere. In an overly manly voice, he said, “If you don’t show me this technology, I’m going to shoot your nose off!”
“Oh no, I’ll show you it right now!” the left hand said with a squeak. “I’m such a pussy!”
The shopkeeper was left with his eyes wide, and his mouth dropped open. Cooper pushed the barrel of the gun against his trembling lips.
“So,” he said in his normal, cool voice, as he pulled out a photo of Jack. “Did you sell anything to this boy?”
The blacksmith fainted.
“Well.” Steele snickered. “That went well.”
“It worked in the movie I saw,” Cooper said, sighing down at the unconscious body.
“Comic relief is overrated.” Steele stalked off across the room. “Especially when you’re on the job.”
“I’d say this is a pretty dead end.”
“That wouldn’t even be funny if you killed him… Cooper, don’t even think about it!”
Cooper just grinned at her. “Well… I suppose we should wait until he wakes up…”
“I’ll search the place.” Steele tossed her hand over her shoulder, a short wave, and went rummaging through the other rooms.
“Where to after this?” Cooper asked, sitting on the blacksmith’s body.
Steel stuck her head out from one of the doorways. A wide grin spread across her face, and her eyes sparked with life. "I think you know... It's time to pay a visit to the Renaissance."
The radio gives way to static as the two agents move further down the Eras. The dark sky above them is the only constant thing in this winding slope down the timeline. It brightens with the promise of a grey sunrise. Steele holds the small device in her free hand, and the music blips, buzzes, and fades.
“Out of radio range.” Steele pauses, and looks back at the road from the future. “What year is it?”
“Probably mid-1800s,” Cooper replies, taking in the Victorian architecture the buildings have slipped into. He watches his partner for a silent moment. “Our hit is this kid Jack.”
“Duh.”
“It’s not our job to investigate the pirate radio station,” he said, his voice anything but tender, as he continued down the road. “As much as I’d like to jump on a lead like that.”
Steele gave him a look. “I know what the goddamn job is. It’s not as if we’d be able to contact the higher ups about this anyway.” That wasn’t entirely true… they could speak with the Generals-for-hire, like Mr. March, when they checked in. After this kill.
The continued down the lonely, timeless road for a ways.
“Do you really think they have cameras everywhere?” Cooper asked after a minute, looking over his shoulder as if he’d be able to spot them.
“If they did, they’d know about the radio station in a hot second. And the whereabouts of our kid,” Steele added hastily. “If they had cameras on every inch of this place, we’d be out of a job.”
“Not entirely out of a job.”
They stopped in front of a shabby looking shop. A hammer and anvil were painted, the black chipping away to grey against the wooden blacksmith front. Cooper rested his hand on the doorknob, and paused.
“I thought you just wanted to get this job over with?” he asked.
“I do.” She paused before continuing, as if testing the weight of her next words. She shook her head. “If we figure out who he got the radio from, they might know where this bugger is.” She rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”
They stepped through the threshold into the shop. It was lowly lit by half a dozen lamps, and smelled like burning coal. The floor was stone and trashed with hay and metal scraps. A hearth was ablaze in a corner, the only sign of life. It looked impeccably accurate to its Era—as it should be.
“Blacksmith’s outta town,” a gruff voice said from one of the worktables. The man glanced up at the two agents, and caught sight of their sleek trench coats with a little surprise. “Oh, sorry.” His voiced changed at once to a lighter tone. “Whasup? What can I do for you? Sorry, most people come through the modern entrance unless they’re from the Victorian Era.” He jerked his thumb behind his shoulder.
Steele glowered at Cooper. “There’s a modern entrance?”
He ignored her, and took the radio from her hands. He walked up to the shopkeeper, and set the radio down before him with a soft clunk. With his other hand, he swung out his gun and pointed it lazily at the man’s midriff. The keeper threw his hands up with a slur of frightened curses.
“Jesus, Cooper!” Steel said crossly.
“Let me tell you how this is going to go,” Cooper said, resting his elbow on the table. “I’m going to ask you if you sell these radios. You’re going to show me your complete stock of modern tech. Then I’m going to ask you if you sell any sort of device that can reach hidden stations.”
He flipped his left hand up, pinching thumb to fingers. “Oh, no sir, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Cooper clapped his thumb to fingers as he imitated the keeper’s voice. He held up the hand with the gun, and began to do the same thing, which was a bit of a feat and the gun was now swinging everywhere. In an overly manly voice, he said, “If you don’t show me this technology, I’m going to shoot your nose off!”
“Oh no, I’ll show you it right now!” the left hand said with a squeak. “I’m such a pussy!”
The shopkeeper was left with his eyes wide, and his mouth dropped open. Cooper pushed the barrel of the gun against his trembling lips.
“So,” he said in his normal, cool voice, as he pulled out a photo of Jack. “Did you sell anything to this boy?”
The blacksmith fainted.
“Well.” Steele snickered. “That went well.”
“It worked in the movie I saw,” Cooper said, sighing down at the unconscious body.
“Comic relief is overrated.” Steele stalked off across the room. “Especially when you’re on the job.”
“I’d say this is a pretty dead end.”
“That wouldn’t even be funny if you killed him… Cooper, don’t even think about it!”
Cooper just grinned at her. “Well… I suppose we should wait until he wakes up…”
“I’ll search the place.” Steele tossed her hand over her shoulder, a short wave, and went rummaging through the other rooms.
“Where to after this?” Cooper asked, sitting on the blacksmith’s body.
Steel stuck her head out from one of the doorways. A wide grin spread across her face, and her eyes sparked with life. "I think you know... It's time to pay a visit to the Renaissance."