Snippet #2701925

A muted rumble preceded a slightly dated yet most definitely modified Indian brand motorbike. The engine sounded a bit off, as if it’s true power (and loudness) was being held back. Indeed, that’s what was being done at no small feat of mechanical trickery and a simple flap-system to muffle the exhaust. The sacrifice of speed was a fair tradeoff for a motorcycle’s complete lack of subtlety. Still heard, the rider didn’t exactly shout his appearance either. Furthermore, he killed the engine as the bike neared the Solstice, coasting and then walking it up to a stop near the bikes parked there.

Dropping the kickstand and dismounting the dark green machine, Falcon checked his phone to confirm what he already knew. Two dots, blips really, appeared on a map of the immediate area inside the theatre. It was something The Dullahan had left behind for him to find. At some point, the boss managed to implant tiny tracking devices in members of the Gae Ceann. It had taken a while to figure out, but Falcon managed to only glean bare facts from the reams of information hidden in a micro SD card. The general location of the member and vitals. It didn’t even state who the blips were. Even so, one showed up as virtually dead, which was somewhat odd. The other one was very much alive. There was another blip popping in and out randomly on the map as well -evidence the implant had been found and tampered with, or maybe just a glitch.

Pocketing his phone, the mechanic drew a Luger pistol from a shoulder holster and entered the Solstice Theatre quietly, heading straight up the middle aisle despite the obvious threat of ambush. It may have been arrogance, but it was more a confidence in old loyalties and his uncanny luck.

As he came within earshot, only catching the tail-end of the conversation as it were, a smirk lit upon his face. These were two very capable people he’d been (unconsciously) hoping to find.

“Not quite a problem as yeh’d think, Mister Harrison -or Bishop if you prefer- if’n yeh know where ta look,” Kevyn said with a chuckle as he stopped in the aisle near them. “An’ of all the places yeh pick, yeh pick the most cliche’d fer a siren… I thought yeh despised them stereotypes, Mistress Renny...”