logan_watcher (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} logan_watcher) wrote,@ 2009-02-20 12:25:00 |
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Recon, Part 1
Well, the wall was still up. That much was good to know.
Though by no means a skilled photographer, Logan had long ago learned the value of taking pictures when examining something. Which was why he was camped on a rooftop near the Lincoln Park barricade – the same rooftop he was on the night he met Izzy, come to think of it – holding a Nikon that most would’ve considered overpriced.
The zoom lens attachment made the camera bulky, but considering the former Watcher had to keep his distance because of the guards, the camera’s cumbersome nature was a necessary burden. Crouched by the ledge, Logan squinted into the wind and lifted the camera.
Looking through the view finder and twisting the lens to zoom in further, the Logan watched one guard pacing to his right, semi-automatic cradled in his arms. He approached another guard, this one armed with just a walkie-talkie. A conversation began, though the former Watcher had no idea what they were saying.
But the walkie-talkie guard turned his back to Logan, pointing at the wall behind them. The former Watcher zoomed in even further, focusing in on the guard’s finger. The camera showed nothing out of the ordinary about the wall, which made Logan wonder what they were talking about.
A third soldier joined the conversation, watching the walkie-talkie soldier’s arm movements along the wall with an amused expression. The three suddenly burst into laughter, the two with guns eventually splitting off in opposite directions in a fit of chuckles.
Logan dropped his camera with a sigh. All that for nothing.
Lifting the camera once more, the bookstore owner took a series of shots of the barricade and those guarding it that were in his line of sight. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary – in some ways, it seemed as if the events of New Year’s Eve never happened. Logan knew better, considering the things he saw and the scar on his right arm and the fact that the wall had to be put back together mystically.
Which made Logan wonder – how was the wall holding up? It looked solid enough, but was it really? He wanted to get a closer look, but the military presence kept him on the rooftop. He guessed the guards might’ve been more receptive to demon hunters and the like following the New Year’s fiasco, but he wasn’t quite willing to take that chance.
Hearing voices on the ground below, Logan slumped down below the ledge. Unintelligible at first, the voices became clearer the louder they became. Peering over the ledge, careful not to be seen, Logan saw a guard and a scientist walking along the sidewalk. The scientist was balding, his white lab coat trapped in a black leather coat, while the guard looked almost identical to the others Logan saw moments earlier.
Snapping a few quick shots of the two, and glad his camera was one of the quieter models, the former Watcher managed to catch a small snippet of the conversation, even thinking to produce a small digital voice recorder from his pocket and turning it on.
“Some areas of the wall are still stable,” the soldier said. “We’re not so confident about the section that had to be put back together mystically.”
“Has there been another breach?” the scientist asked.
The soldier shook his head. “No, sir … we get the occasional demon hunter coming in to pick off whatever’s in there, but that’s been about it. Light traffic going in, nothing coming out.”
The scientist nodded, stopping. Thank you, Logan thought with a grin, snapping another picture to capture what he could of the scientist’s face. Other than black-rimmed glasses, there were no features to distinguish the man. Logan doubted he’d be able to identify the scientist, but it was worth a shot.
“When’s the wall coming down?”
So flabbergasted with the question was Logan, he didn’t even catch the soldier’s response. Another advantage of the voice recorder, he figured; since he missed that part of the conversation, he could go back later and hear it again. But break down the barrier? What in the world would possess the government or the military or whoever to do that?
Snapping back to reality, Logan peered over the ledge once more, his gloved hands cold against the concrete.
“We’ve downed three demon squatters in the past two weeks,” the soldier reported. “Looting attempts have decreased in that same time frame.”
Again, the scientist nodded. “If I had my way, that wall would stay there forever. Your superiors can beat their chests all they want about how the mutant population is nearly extinct, they can even beam about property values and all that, but I think you know better than that.
“No one in their right mind would ever see Lincoln Park as anything more than the sight of one of this city’s worst tragedies. That wall is as much a symbol as a means of protection, and I think that’s how it should stay.”
The soldier frowned. “It’s not my place to –“
“Of course it’s not,” the scientist interrupted, raising his voice a notch. “Your job is to follow orders, no matter how short-sighted they are. Asking questions is my job.”
“Questions?”
The scientist folded his arms. “Are we sure most of the mutants have been dealt with? And the ones we haven’t – are they dangerous? Do we really want to risk exposing the remaining creatures to the rest of the city by breaking down the barricade?”
The soldier’s jaw clenched. “We’ll eradicate all of them, then.”
“And how will you know when you have them all?” the scientist fired back. “Huh? How do you know some of them aren’t hiding away somewhere you won’t find them, protecting themselves? How do we know there isn’t another way in or out of Lincoln Park that we haven’t found? How do we know some of them haven’t escaped some other way and reproduced?”
The soldier looked incredulous. “Where are you hearing all this?”
The scientist shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything. Those are just questions, theories. Wild conjectures.”
Folding his arms, the soldier sighed. Getting in the scientist’s face, his eyes narrowed. “We have no use for wild conjectures.”
“I do.”
Keeping his composure, the scientist met the soldier’s gaze, folding his own arms and straightening to the point that his chest stuck out. Typical male posturing. “Someone has to ask the improbable,” he mused. “You have your role to play, I have mine.”
Turning to walk off, the scientist stopped. He glanced the soldier’s way again, pointing at him. “If they’re really going to tear down that wall, I can’t stop them. But if you do, and people start getting hurt, I’ll be more than willing to give you an ‘I told you so.’
“Might even attach it to my resignation.”
As the scientist walked off, Logan turned off the recorder and pocketed it once more. Sitting against the ledge, the former Watcher sighed, taking in what he’d just heard. They want to take down the barricade? Why? When? Even without the answers to those questions, Logan knew that would end up being a very bad idea.
The others had to be informed. Springing back to his feet and lugging the camera over his right shoulder, Logan approached the stairwell that had granted him access to the roof. Descending the stairs, the former Watcher began formulating as many potential scenarios as possible. He’d have to write them all down, not just in an email informing the others, but for his own reference as well.
He’d been slacking in his journal entries anyway – other things had unexpectedly taken precedence – but this seemed as good a time as any to catch up.
His feet hitting the sidewalk finally, Logan ran over the doctor’s questions in his head once more. How do you know some of them aren’t hiding away somewhere you won’t find them, protecting themselves? How do we know there isn’t another way in or out of Lincoln Park that we haven’t found? How do we know some of them haven’t escaped some other way and reproduced?
The second question really stuck in Logan’s head. The access tunnel. The scientist said he didn’t know anything, was merely throwing a question out there he thought needed considered, but the tunnel was there. What if the mutants had found it?
The former Watcher made a beeline for Halsted and Diversey. He hadn’t planned on going underground again – and still, he had no way to actually go down into the freight tunnel, but the scientist’s curiosity was a little contagious. Even if he couldn’t get into the tunnel itself, Logan could examine the surroundings again, maybe even find something.
Not to mention, it kept him away from the apartment. That was really the last place he wanted to be at the moment.
Well, the wall was still up. That much was good to know.
Though by no means a skilled photographer, Logan had long ago learned the value of taking pictures when examining something. Which was why he was camped on a rooftop near the Lincoln Park barricade – the same rooftop he was on the night he met Izzy, come to think of it – holding a Nikon that most would’ve considered overpriced.
The zoom lens attachment made the camera bulky, but considering the former Watcher had to keep his distance because of the guards, the camera’s cumbersome nature was a necessary burden. Crouched by the ledge, Logan squinted into the wind and lifted the camera.
Looking through the view finder and twisting the lens to zoom in further, the Logan watched one guard pacing to his right, semi-automatic cradled in his arms. He approached another guard, this one armed with just a walkie-talkie. A conversation began, though the former Watcher had no idea what they were saying.
But the walkie-talkie guard turned his back to Logan, pointing at the wall behind them. The former Watcher zoomed in even further, focusing in on the guard’s finger. The camera showed nothing out of the ordinary about the wall, which made Logan wonder what they were talking about.
A third soldier joined the conversation, watching the walkie-talkie soldier’s arm movements along the wall with an amused expression. The three suddenly burst into laughter, the two with guns eventually splitting off in opposite directions in a fit of chuckles.
Logan dropped his camera with a sigh. All that for nothing.
Lifting the camera once more, the bookstore owner took a series of shots of the barricade and those guarding it that were in his line of sight. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary – in some ways, it seemed as if the events of New Year’s Eve never happened. Logan knew better, considering the things he saw and the scar on his right arm and the fact that the wall had to be put back together mystically.
Which made Logan wonder – how was the wall holding up? It looked solid enough, but was it really? He wanted to get a closer look, but the military presence kept him on the rooftop. He guessed the guards might’ve been more receptive to demon hunters and the like following the New Year’s fiasco, but he wasn’t quite willing to take that chance.
Hearing voices on the ground below, Logan slumped down below the ledge. Unintelligible at first, the voices became clearer the louder they became. Peering over the ledge, careful not to be seen, Logan saw a guard and a scientist walking along the sidewalk. The scientist was balding, his white lab coat trapped in a black leather coat, while the guard looked almost identical to the others Logan saw moments earlier.
Snapping a few quick shots of the two, and glad his camera was one of the quieter models, the former Watcher managed to catch a small snippet of the conversation, even thinking to produce a small digital voice recorder from his pocket and turning it on.
“Some areas of the wall are still stable,” the soldier said. “We’re not so confident about the section that had to be put back together mystically.”
“Has there been another breach?” the scientist asked.
The soldier shook his head. “No, sir … we get the occasional demon hunter coming in to pick off whatever’s in there, but that’s been about it. Light traffic going in, nothing coming out.”
The scientist nodded, stopping. Thank you, Logan thought with a grin, snapping another picture to capture what he could of the scientist’s face. Other than black-rimmed glasses, there were no features to distinguish the man. Logan doubted he’d be able to identify the scientist, but it was worth a shot.
“When’s the wall coming down?”
So flabbergasted with the question was Logan, he didn’t even catch the soldier’s response. Another advantage of the voice recorder, he figured; since he missed that part of the conversation, he could go back later and hear it again. But break down the barrier? What in the world would possess the government or the military or whoever to do that?
Snapping back to reality, Logan peered over the ledge once more, his gloved hands cold against the concrete.
“We’ve downed three demon squatters in the past two weeks,” the soldier reported. “Looting attempts have decreased in that same time frame.”
Again, the scientist nodded. “If I had my way, that wall would stay there forever. Your superiors can beat their chests all they want about how the mutant population is nearly extinct, they can even beam about property values and all that, but I think you know better than that.
“No one in their right mind would ever see Lincoln Park as anything more than the sight of one of this city’s worst tragedies. That wall is as much a symbol as a means of protection, and I think that’s how it should stay.”
The soldier frowned. “It’s not my place to –“
“Of course it’s not,” the scientist interrupted, raising his voice a notch. “Your job is to follow orders, no matter how short-sighted they are. Asking questions is my job.”
“Questions?”
The scientist folded his arms. “Are we sure most of the mutants have been dealt with? And the ones we haven’t – are they dangerous? Do we really want to risk exposing the remaining creatures to the rest of the city by breaking down the barricade?”
The soldier’s jaw clenched. “We’ll eradicate all of them, then.”
“And how will you know when you have them all?” the scientist fired back. “Huh? How do you know some of them aren’t hiding away somewhere you won’t find them, protecting themselves? How do we know there isn’t another way in or out of Lincoln Park that we haven’t found? How do we know some of them haven’t escaped some other way and reproduced?”
The soldier looked incredulous. “Where are you hearing all this?”
The scientist shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything. Those are just questions, theories. Wild conjectures.”
Folding his arms, the soldier sighed. Getting in the scientist’s face, his eyes narrowed. “We have no use for wild conjectures.”
“I do.”
Keeping his composure, the scientist met the soldier’s gaze, folding his own arms and straightening to the point that his chest stuck out. Typical male posturing. “Someone has to ask the improbable,” he mused. “You have your role to play, I have mine.”
Turning to walk off, the scientist stopped. He glanced the soldier’s way again, pointing at him. “If they’re really going to tear down that wall, I can’t stop them. But if you do, and people start getting hurt, I’ll be more than willing to give you an ‘I told you so.’
“Might even attach it to my resignation.”
As the scientist walked off, Logan turned off the recorder and pocketed it once more. Sitting against the ledge, the former Watcher sighed, taking in what he’d just heard. They want to take down the barricade? Why? When? Even without the answers to those questions, Logan knew that would end up being a very bad idea.
The others had to be informed. Springing back to his feet and lugging the camera over his right shoulder, Logan approached the stairwell that had granted him access to the roof. Descending the stairs, the former Watcher began formulating as many potential scenarios as possible. He’d have to write them all down, not just in an email informing the others, but for his own reference as well.
He’d been slacking in his journal entries anyway – other things had unexpectedly taken precedence – but this seemed as good a time as any to catch up.
His feet hitting the sidewalk finally, Logan ran over the doctor’s questions in his head once more. How do you know some of them aren’t hiding away somewhere you won’t find them, protecting themselves? How do we know there isn’t another way in or out of Lincoln Park that we haven’t found? How do we know some of them haven’t escaped some other way and reproduced?
The second question really stuck in Logan’s head. The access tunnel. The scientist said he didn’t know anything, was merely throwing a question out there he thought needed considered, but the tunnel was there. What if the mutants had found it?
The former Watcher made a beeline for Halsted and Diversey. He hadn’t planned on going underground again – and still, he had no way to actually go down into the freight tunnel, but the scientist’s curiosity was a little contagious. Even if he couldn’t get into the tunnel itself, Logan could examine the surroundings again, maybe even find something.
Not to mention, it kept him away from the apartment. That was really the last place he wanted to be at the moment.