warehouse 13 (IC)

[Tyg3rW01f]

"Hey, I ASKED the President to stand beside you BEFORE I showed the arsenal they fucked up and allowed to walk into that room. I could have just stabbed the table between his hands and said nothing."

[Sarlon]

"they didn't fuck up, remember those credientals? they let you get into fort knox with a forklift practically."

Samara looks up and down the busy street, mutters something about lousy timing, and makes a doubletime step for a row of taxis, all but dragging Joisah by the arm after her. She puts two fingers into her mouth and lets loose a blast of a whistle that makes him flinch from being loud, and sees Samara frantically waving down a passing taxi.

"Hey Sammie...need a ride?"

Josiah sees a middle aged man in another suit that screams government guy, walk up to Samara. "Nowedon'tneedaridethankyouverymuchlookatthetimehe resourcab!"

Samara shoves josiah into the cab ahead of her, slams the door shut and gives directions to someplace downtown. Only after the car is moving does she sigh and close her eyes.

"Ever wonder why i don't come back east? To many people remember me."

[Tyg3rW01f]

"Sam, next time, just say 'Frei" and I can wax them for ya. I DID bring the Tesla."

[Sarlon]

"didn't hurt you did i?" She smirks and pays the cabbie as they pull up infront of a semi rundown restruant, the front of which is barely a door and a window wide.

She leads him to the door knocks on it, and a tiny window opens. "we're closed!"

"Oh come on mac, I'm only in town for a few days."

The window closes again and Josiah hears several bolts being slid open before the door is opened as well. A mountain of a man stands just off to the side as he holds the door open, shes in a spotless white apron, black slacks, and white button up shirt.

Samara leads him down a flight of stairs, leading him into the most bizzare restruant hes ever seen. 13 tables, are scattered about the room, and the short bar has 13 stools at it. Sam takes one of the tables and says "2 steak sandwiches, and two of your house ales."

"They don't make food like this back home Josiah, and Mac here brews his own beers."

[Tyg3rW01f]

"The servers all go home or some?"

[Sarlon]

"Nope just Mac runs the place...kinda hard to get in here, and you have to be known. A good friend introduced me to this place back when I first came to town."

Shortly after the smell of wood smoke wafts out from behind the bar the mouth watering aroma of grilled steak starts to waft through as well. Samara walks up to the bar and takes two brown bottles opening both with a flick of her thumb and sets it down infront of Josiah. The bottle is warm, but pure extasy fills his mouth with the first taste of the ale within.

[Tyg3rW01f]

"Ohhhh, holy cow... this is the best beer I've had in years! Must be german." Josiah noticed something.
"Thirteen stools, 13 fans, 13 columns, and thirteen tables. The hell?"

[Sarlon]

"Mac designed it after a book he read once, liked the idea and decieded to make it his own." she lowers her voice and leans in "and don't let mac hear you call him german....hes irish."

[Tyg3rW01f]

"Oops." Josiah swallowed nervously.

[Sarlon]

Samara chuckled, tossed a couple of twenties on the bar as she picks up the two plates and two more bottles of ale. "Mac you really should sell me a few dozen cases to take home...."

A loud snort is only heard from the kitchen as she places the plates and bottles down. The sandwich is perfectly cooked and tneder for Josiah, with just a hint of the wood smoke lingering. Samara digs in hers, and sighs happily.

"So serious moment here...Tomorrow the president is going to be holding a series of press confrences, mostly a song and dance thing. I'll be on stage with him as "secret service" I want you wandering the crowds sniffing things out. Try to refrain from drawing any weapon while among civvies. Its not your job to get shot, so we're gonna fit you with some kevlar tomorrow."

She takes a long draw from the bottle and burps soundly.

"I'd like to be out of this town by nightfall tomorrow if I can help it. But you are welcome to stay and sight see on the governments penny after this case is wrapped up."

[Tyg3rW01f]

"I don't see her hitting in broad daylight, or at night. Twilight is a better time. You can see, but your target can't see you. And she'll hit from no less than 250 yards. It'll be Kennedy all over again."

[Tyg3rW01f]

At 1305 hours, Sam and Josiah found themselves looking at the strangest calling card they'd seen, less than 250 feet from the site of a scheduled Presidential outdoor press conference.
"What is it?"
Josiah knelt down to take a better look at the taped off display of ballsy.
On the ground before him was a piece of notebook paper with the words, "Boom. Headshot." The letters were sloppy, obvious public school-lazy handwriting.
Josiah looked up, around. "Y'know, for being Sam's mentor, you're kinda slow at times. It's only a piece of paper weighed down by a 7.62x51 NATO round, correct? Wrong. It's a taunt, a message, and the very first rookie mistake this woman will make. Jewel Fenton knelt here, put this down, then vanished without being spotted. She thinks she's showing us how big her balls are, but she has merely told us the SEALs will find nothing, she's here in D.C., and she was well within range."
Josiah stood up. "I want to know if Jewel is still at the Holiday Inn or if she has moved on. I want to know QUIETLY."
"How would you know that, oh great factory-worker Holmes?"
Josiah pointed, "The paper is from one of the notepads they leave in rooms; it has the remains of the letterhead."
The letters were half obliterated, but still legible. Josiah looked at Sam, who was talking to somebody called "Garcia" on the Farnsworth about "Holiday Inns in D.C. and registries in the last three days."
Josiah smiled, "See?"

[Sarlon]

The rest of the day goes uneventfully, Samara volunteering Josiah to stand in her place for the last conference of the day, while she walks the crowd.

That night she declines joining the rest of the team for drinks and dinner, both Holdwell and Josiah seeing the limp coming back into her step and the tired drawn features showing on her face.

"Josiah you can stay up all night drinking at macs for all I care...I'm crashing back at the hotel."

Josiah the next morning is awakened by a knocking on his hotel room door, and someones voice saying "Dress warmly, its a cold one outside and LOTS to do. Breakfast downstairs in 10."

[Tyg3rW01f]

Josiah held his head as he dragged his butt out of bed. It had taken three of Mac;s beers to get the foul taste of a government suit out of Josiah's mouth and another to get him back to the hotel.
"You no speak loud. Caffeine no work yet," he complained as Sam ushered him out the door. "Agent Holdwell can sure drink. Gods, what does Mac put in those bottles? I feel like my head's in a vice."

[Sarlon]

"Holdwell tell you any stories? or should he be allowed to live another day?"

Samara smirks at him and hands him a cup of coffee, the smell instantly recognizable as coffee from Leena's.

"Hope you brought some walking shoes hun....I'm taking you on a tour of Washington, an giving you MY history rendition of things. Anyplace in particualr you want to go?"