| "Sand Box Sand" | ||
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Case File: CT-1802A-08 Paige's Place March 30, 2008 2000 hours Paige took a moment to catch her breath before lifting the last rep of her set over her head. It surprised her still, after so many months of constant pain, how good her shoulder felt. She sat up, breathing rapidly and sweating from working out on the Bowflex. She wasn't sure how she would like it at first, but it wasn't too bad, and it beat dealing with a gym. She promised herself, she would get to the Warehouse (training facility) this week to start logging in some hours. The shrill creek of her cell phone brought her breathing to a stop. She stared at it, discarded on the coffee table by her when she came home this morning. It rang again, pleading with her to answer it. She got off the bench and stood by the table yet she made no effort to pick it up. This was, she thought, the first time she heard it ring. Alpha, had they wanted to get in touch with her, always used the landlines. She picked it up, the small object loudly voicing its opinion that she should answer it. Not surprisingly, the caller id number came up unknown. She depressed the small green button stopping it mid-ring. She closed her eyes pressing it to her ear, expecting to hear that soft voice... "Paige, it's Gray," the voice said evenly. Paige sighed, and smiled, why wouldn't it be? "What's up?" "You need to log on your computer, we have an assignment for you." Paige flicked her eyes over to her computer as her heart sped up again...finally...an assignment. She logged in and listened to Gray explain to her all the intel received in her email. It was to be the 'Samboy Case'... Samboy Aggregates was a large materials company that worked out of the bay in South Amboy, one town over from Paige's present location. They received shipments of sand, gravel, and stone from all over the world (though mostly Canada and Nova Scotia). The ships were unloaded in the bay, sorted, and redistributed to various contractors and civilians. The company had been doing very well recently, despite an unstable economy, allowing them to almost double their staff, including a graveyard shift, and rake in a 30% increase in profits this quarter. Baz, she now learned, had been hired two weeks ago for manual labor on the graveyard shift. That would explain, she thought, his mysterious avoidance of questioning of why he had been so busy. Samboy Aggregates first came under suspicion with the release of several men from the East Coast State Penitentiary, (a.k.a. Rahway Prison). The government, in particular the ATF (Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms) and FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation), felt it would be prudent to keep tabs on them. This notion was confirmed when these men were all hired at Samboy, not surprisingly, all on the graveyard shift. The FBI conducted random surveillance, which wasn't that difficult considering the openness of the bay. They believed Samboy was involved in bringing illegal firearms into the country. The ATF then took over jurisdiction and inserted an undercover officer to obtain evidence. The officer, however, could not get himself hired on the graveyard shift. The ATF remains stalled at this time. Another contract Samboy Aggregates handles is helping out with the dredging of the channel. There are several large ships that go through the bay daily and the channel is in constant need of dredging and maintenance. The ships Samboy has are perfect for this job. The dredging is done by literally sucking up the bottom layers of sand and silt built up in the channel. But due to this, several sea animals, amongst other things, are brought to the surface. The EPA, Environmental Protection Agency, monitors all dredging equipment and requires the companies to submit paperwork on any endangered species injured or killed during this process. Samboy is not above these mandates and are being forced to hire a biologist. Enter the SIA. Paige was to start tomorrow as a biologist with the EPA...luckily for her, on the late shift. Not the graveyard shift like they had wanted, but a 3pm to midnight was better than nothing. Her job, with Baz's help, was to find out if these illegal arms are at Samboy's facility, and if so, how did they get there, and where were they going. Her target was to be a one Jonathan Keller. She raised an eyebrow studying his picture...at least he was some good eye candy. He had been released from jail three months ago on armed robbery and assault charges and immediately hired at Samboy. He, the ATF believed, was a main player in whatever game Samboy was playing. Paige was to befriend him and use him to gather information. Her next objective, to be started tomorrow, was getting Jordan in. Randolph James Branks, otherwise known as RJ, was the graveyard shift supervisor and the one she would speak with on getting Jordan hired as a college student looking for an internship. Paige hesitated with being able to pull that off but Gray assured her she would do fine. It was believed by all that something was going down soon, hence the scramble to get SIA Agents in. It was imperative the three of them gather as much information as possible. "I'll be sending you identification as well as EPA documents, instructions of what to do with them, and surveillance equipment by courier tomorrow morning," Gray explained to her. "Concentrate on getting Jordan in as you can get more accomplished as a team then by yourself." "I understand," Paige said softly. "We're just a phone call away if there's any trouble, but I know you will be fine." "Easy peasy," she replied rolling her eyes. He hesitated for a moment, "I guess...Paige...I'm not used to things...going on..." Paige dropped her head in her hands, she knew exactly what he was talking about. The night at SH2, he had been the one to get her there, "whatever Gray, we all do what we have to do." She didn't mean it to sound caustic but it just came out that way. "Ok, fair enough, be careful with those fellows," he said. "I will," she said flatly just wanting to get off the phone. "Keep us updated on your progress." "Yes, Gray," she said even flatter. "Very well, have a good night, then," he said and she simply hung up. She started erasing the files he had sent...there was no reason to keep them. They were just simply stored along with all the other crap in her head. She felt nauseous then, thinking too much, and switched the computer off. She dropped some food in for Michael the Fish and grabbed a beer, downing it in one try. She lay down on the sofa then, in the silence, counting baseball averages...backwards. 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