"Sure," said Markus. "I suppose you can tell by my accent that I'm not from around here, but I know my way around town well enough. Let's go." He followed Remy outside to his truck.
"Not to fear since you not be de only one with an obvious accent in dis truck." Remy gives Markus a big smile as he hands him the paper and says, "Now which way to dis fellas house?" After handing Markus the paper he starts the truck and then merges with the daily traffic.
Dr. Gregory Anderson's Home - Pine Road, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 9:00 PM - Wednesday, July 16th, 1969
Following directions from Markus, Remy made his way onto I-95 and drove into Northeast Philadelphia. There wasn't too much traffic at this late hour, and it didn't take too long to get there. The house was a big two-story one on Pine Road, made out of dark red brick. A light was on in one of the downstairs windows, and a driveway led up to the garage, which was closed. A cement walkway branched off from the driveway and went up a few stairs to the front porch, where the front door stood closed.
Remy pulls over to the side of the road and shuts the truck off. Remy looks over to Markus and says, "We should sleep in shifts while de udder one watches de house. Any little ting could be helpful when it comes to blackmail."
Markus nodded and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, while Remy took the first shift. Time began to pass, and so far nothing had happened. Remy learned something that those on the other side of the law knew all too well: stakeouts were boring.
OOC,Something will happen, but I need to wait for another thread to catch up to yours in the timeline first. In the meantime, you may talk to [b]Markus[/b] (he's not asleep just yet).
"I'm from Oxford, in England," said Markus, his accent apparent in his speech. "I come from old money, and my family is very rich, but there's one thing someone with money always lacks, and that's more money. I'm currently attending graduate school at the University of Pennsylvania. And yourself?"
"I'm from Lafayette down in Louisiana. Money was a luxury we didna have when I was growin up." Remy leans back and stairs at the ceiling as if thinking about some memory or another, "Dad was a hard luck Cajun with a mind for da petty crimes. Mom worked da streets at night to support us."
"That is a harsh life," said Markus. "I can see why you could use some money. This professor chap has a nice place. I'm sure he'll be able to spare a nice amount. That's what's good about blackmail: it's the gift that keeps on giving. Once we get him on the hook, he'll be a steady source of income. If he'll pay out once, he'll pay again."
Remy sat watching the professors house for any signs of life. As the time ticked by it seemed as if even the heater in the truck couldn't keep the late night chill at bay. Remy was about to call it a night, As he was about to wake Markus something caught his attention.
Remy caught a glimpse of two cars coming up Pine Road from behind him in the side mirror. They were still a couple of blocks back, but they were heading closer. He couldn't make out much detail, as the glare of the lead car's headlights reflected off of the mirror into his eyes. The first car was a dark Chevy sedan from the early 1960s, probably 1962, and the second was a red 1967 Ford Mustang. He couldn't see the occupants yet. There hadn't been any traffic for a while, and this was the first time he had seen two cars at once since they had parked the car.
Remy shakes Markus shoulder and says, "Hey Markus, You might wanna wake up. We got some cars coming done de street." All the while Remy keeps watching the approaching cars in his mirror.
Markus's eyes snapped open, but he still couldn't see the vehicles. As they got closer, Remy could make out a third vehicle, a small van, following the other two. They were getting closer and definitely coming this way, having just passed the last intersection before Dr. Anderson's house.
"Should we duck down so they don't spot us?" asked Markus.
OOC,[b]Remy[/b], if you want to duck out of sight, roll Hide.