Play@YSDC

Rare Book Buyer Antiquarian
1510 Lexington Avenue


H-cell has been assigned the closed-down Rare Books shop, 1st floor. HOLDEN has the keys. All other operatives have received a TEXT with the adress and HOLDEN is assigned team leader. No details about the job except that it is related to the Lexington live concert due on Wednesday, August 1. At 7PM. Venue is the old site for Club Apocalypse on 1533 Lexington Avenue/98th Street. Only a one minute stroll from the venue will prove easy on the shoes.

Sunday July 8
16:40

The Rare Book Buyer is closed for business, but a woman in dark grey overalls is sweeping the floor in the foyer.

Not much time for sightseeing, but then, getting to New York City on short notice had been an adventure on its own already... The Rare Book Buyer. Say what you want about the guys up there, but they do have a sense of irony at times that he can appreciate. Times like these, for example. He has walked around the block twice already, just to be sure and get a feeling for the surroundings. So now John walks up to the adress he had been given.

He wears a light grey suit with dark shoes and an orange tie with some violet stripes and an LA Lakers logo on it. As he closes in on the place, he sees the 'closed' sign, but also that there is someone sweeping the foyer, so he knocks at the door to gain the attention of the sweeping woman.

"Excuse me, Miss ! I have an appointment with Mister Holden, would you know whether he's there ?"

As with everywhere in this city, parking is at a premium and almost as rare as hen's teeth. Lionel manages to find a spot a block up and parks his car, (his POV, not his unmarked cruiser), and walks towards the book store. He's carrying one of those NPR tote bags you get for pledging and it appears to have something in it. He arrives right about the time a gentleman with a loud tie knocks on the bookstore's door and asks about Holden.

Lionel(Smiling at the gentleman): "Holden, huh? My wife sent me down to see if he had anymore opera tickets. Do you see him?"

John turns, the woman in the hall forgotten, as he is asked about Holden. He#s not too sure what to think of the man opposite him, but Holden might be a good sign. 'Might' being the key word... He gives the man a quick stealthy once-over.

"Opera tickets, eh ? Didn't know he deals in those as well... Nah, haven't seen him so far. Any specific opera he has you tagged for ?"

He puts a bit of odd stress on the word 'tagged' to give the other guy a chance. He wants him to pick up on it, because his answer might go a long way in detemining what happens next.

"She says it's some kind of Rock Opera done by a group called Charnel Dreams, think she called them. Looked them up and Jeff Wayne they ain't. But she wants a Night at the Opera, so a Night at the Opera is what's happenin', know what I'm sayin'? Even had to drop by Greens to get a box of her favorite treats."

Lionel looks the guy up and down.
"By the way, you may want to ditch the tie while in Knicks-Territory; calling attention to yourself like that is a good way to get hurt."

"Hah, well, that better than nothing. last time my wife wanted to go out, we ended spending my free day at the races. She had a lot more fun with that than I did... But yeah, now that you say it, I've heard of those Charnel Dreams people. Not my style, but the things you do for family..."

He gives an exaggerated sigh and grins.

"I'm not afraid of the Knicks and neither of their fans. If this were New Jersey, I'd reconsider, but I don't feel too threatened here, really."

After short deliberation, he extends his hand to the other man.

"I'm Harris. Most people call me Harry, though."

The woman puts the broom away in a corner, and it refuses to stay put. "Damn it! Stay!" She manages to get the broom to be still.
She produces a set of keys from her utility belt and opens the door to the Rare Book Buyer. "You´d better hop in here fellas. Or the tennants may think we´re hosting a convention here."

She puts on a grey cap with a green leaf stylized within a white cirkle. "Must be mindful to have the proper attire at work. My boss is a stickler for Go Green."

Well inside the books store, she says. "I´m not sure when to expect HOLDEN but I may be able to answer some questions you may have. What are your assigned names, gentlemen?"

Interior of the closed book shop.

"I have HOLDEN on my list, among others. Now I need to check your credentials, or prepare another clean up." She walks to a check out counter and pulls out a drawer, smiling.

As the light begins to fade a battered open-topped jeep, looking like it has been driven from the jungles of the Yucatan such is the decay and dirt, pulls up across the street from the book store. A man, yanking the key out after slamming the jeep into park, hops out and quickly crosses the street.



He looks weathered, like an old surfer, and wears a flamboyant Hawaiian shirt over a plain white tee. He also sports battered khaki cargo shorts, large pockets bulging with papers and open-toed beach sandals with thick rubber soles. He pushes his sunglasses up onto his head and enters the store, flashing a winning smile at the assembled people: "So I'm here....which one of you HOLDEN?" His accent is West Coast with a hint of Latino that betrays his heritage.

His eyes flash around the room, taking it all in...

By the counter, a janitor pulls out a Colt Special .38 from beneath the counter. She lays it down beside the cash register.
She raises an eyebrow and replies, "It ain´t me honey. Who shall I take a message from?"

Lionel walks into the store, thinking less-than-complementary thoughts about all the James Bond bird-**** he has to put up with when tagged.
"You can call me Lionel, ain't met Holden yet..." He looks at the Woman, " 'less that you."

OCC: bad timing.
At the woman: "You can tell Holden that Lionel's here for those Opera tickets he texted me about."

"Me? I´m Shaw. And HOLDEN is a no-show. As far as I´m informed you people should present yourselves and I´m to verify that you are on my list." Shaw puts her finger tips on the counter and waits. "I´ve not met HOLDEN yet. And it obviously ain´t you lot."

The man is not phased by the sight of the pistol, 'Yeah thought as much. Can no one can just hello anymore?' the thinks before closing the shop door behind him. He turns on his most charming Latino smile and simply says "HUSKER. You called me, so I'm guessing things must be...difficult." He is not a particularly tall or well built man, but he moves with a powerful assurance as he throws himself down is a chair, pulling a tired face once again.

"Welcome, HUSKER. A-cell sends their regards." Turning to the other two gentlemen, Shaw says, "I have no Lionel on the list."

Lionel sighs.****ing 007 crap.
"Halphoh, call me Halphoh."

"Sure thing, Lionel...Never had a doubt. You mr tie-man, what about you?"

"Harris, Miss."

John is clearly mostly amused by how this turned out. At least something of a nice twist on how things usually go. He smirks and looks from one of the other guests to the other and back.