06.10.2014: A Book to Die for

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Detroit Michigan, DuMouchelle auction house 2:00 A.M. The client was very specific about the item and the time frame it needed to be acquired in. He didn't want to risk the prize being swept up in the estate sale happening tomorrow night. Such a rare book wouldn't be easily found a second time.


On a windless night, four stories up on a narrow ledge, the singular access point can be seen in the distance. The only reasons its accessible is making such a leap and landing would require more raw athletic talent than the designer thought possible.


Sadly, nothing is impossible.


Emily is dressed for the occasion. Thin, airy fabric dyed the deepest of black fits her from the neck to her ankles like a glove. She had it specially made for her. Can't have loose fabric snagging onto something and ruining any moves she might make. Every luscious, athletic curve of her body can be followed easily as she moves and blends into the shadows. A thin mask of the same shade of black fits over her head, hiding her flaxen hair and lovely features. Only the sparkling hazel eyes lay contrast to the darkness, holes cut out for her nose and soft lips.


She carries with her the proper equipment for this particular job. She stands on the narrow ledge, judging the distance it would take to get over to where she needs to. With fluid movements, she balances herself on the ledge, walking back and forth for the best angle. This is not the hard part for her. She won a Silver Medal for doing just this very thing. Bouncing slightly on her toes, she leaps like a cat stretching in mid-air for the flagpole. 


[DICE] Emily rolls dexterity+athletics, difficulty 7 

[DICE] 4 successes (1 1 5 7 8 9 9 10, Specialty: Yes, Willpower: No)


The lithe acrobat’s body vaults into the darkness, as silent as any shadow might be. Only the flagpole itself clinks lightly as it accepts her weight. This is nothing new for an Olympian trained on the parallel bars. Momentum already allows her full rotation on the metal pole, and each spin she makes doubles her speed and power….just one..more…jump… 


[DICE] Emily rolls dexterity+athletics, difficulty 7 

[DICE] 1 successes (1 2 4 5 6 6 7 9, Specialty: Yes, Willpower: No)


Seems she overdid it on the momentum part. Letting go of the flagpole, she over jumps to the narrow ledge, feet landing unsolidly on the hard surface. She teeters, eyes widening as she sees what four stories down looks like. Her heart starts racing.


This is Detroit, and the DuMouchelle auction house is like everything else: crumbling. The bricks beneath the thief give way and in an instant she’s sliding like all the other derbies down the pitch of the slate roof. She has just one chance. A small outcropping of stone near the edge– one adrenaline fueled shot at it life. Below her four stories down awaits the unforgiving pavement. 


[DICE] Emily rolls dexterity+athletics, difficulty 7 

[DICE] 2 successes (2 2 2 2 3 5 10 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)



[DICE] Emily rolls dexterity+stealth, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 4 successes (3 5 6 7 8 9, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


Someone below glances up. He's an older man, wearing a tan trench coat. He squints through his glasses, then turns to hurry about his business.


She sucks in a breath, panic threatening to override her senses. Seeing the small outcropping of stone, she reaches and grabs it for dear life. One fluid movement that saves her from going splat. Her catsuit is ripped just a bit in the back. Broken, jagged pieces of brick are unforgiving against the thin, sleek material. "I'm so going to charge him double..." she mutters under her breath, seeing if her mishap caused any disturbance below. She seems in the clear, and starts pulling herself up.


Emily arches her back and snakes around into the opening, holding on to the edge as she dangles, judging the depth. Preparing herself, she sails down, bending her knees while fingers touch the ground to keep balance, and from breaking bones. 


[DICE] Emily rolls perception+larceny+2, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 5 successes (2 2 3 5 6 9 9 9 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


The interior of the auction house is nearly pitch black to the young woman’s hazel eyes, however her UV goggles bathe the area in greens and blacks. The main floor is carpeted and kept in good repair. Painting line the walls, as do several display cases. Her information was clear enough. The book is leather bound, and strapped with a brass lock: It should remain locked. The inscription on the cover is some gothic sigil, branded into the leather. The language wasn’t one that she (or anyone else) would be familiar with.


Using the goggles, she makes her way around the auction house, letting her eyes view the paintings and what is inside the various cases as they are seen in the black and green hues. She pauses when she comes to the leather bound, locked book. Naturally, she is curious about why it is locked. Locks are her specialty, after all. What keeps an honest man honest, after all. She begins to look over the case, checking to see if it has any alarms on it. 


[DICE] Emily rolls perception+larceny, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 3 successes (2 3 3 5 7 8 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


A in-depth study of the case reveals are fairly simply alarm system in addition to a lock securing the door. There are several other items in the case to include a lovely French art nouveau cameo glass , De Vez, Richard and Moda, a Rene Lalique ‘Mures’ vase, a 19th century peachblow lemonade set; Meissen ‘Green Dragon’ and Herend ‘Rothschild Bird’ dinner sets; and Chinese Export porcelain. Continuing with 18th-20th century there lies the leather bound book. 


[DICE] Emily rolls perception+larceny+2, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 4 successes (2 2 3 4 5 6 7 9 9, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)



[DICE] Emily rolls perception+larceny+2, difficulty 7 

[DICE] 2 successes (1 2 3 3 3 4 8 9 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


Well, that was too easy. Emily likes jobs like that. Makes up for her near miss on the ledge. She takes a bit of time to admire all the delectable’s in the case for a moment, fingering lovely French art nouveau cameo glass. That should make a very nice bonus. Back to the book. She picks up the leather bound weight, gloved fingers going over the gothic-style script, before studying the brass lock. "I wonder why it's locked...." she mutters low to herself. 


[DICE] Emily rolls perception+alertness, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 3 successes (1 2 3 7 7 9 9, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


That uneasy feeling causes the downy hair at the back of Emily’s neck to rise when the lifts the book up to inspect it. Could it be the book? Or possible some sense of self-preservation deep inside her that hears the trouble approach? In no uncertain terms this is definitely going to be trouble. Moments before it actually happens. Emily hears the powerful roar of the approach motor. A Diesel engine. At about that same moment she realizes what it is – it happens. The lobby entrance wall four stories below her position explodes in a shower of metal, stone and glass as a Detroit City garbage truck plows halfway through the building.


Emily grabs the banister to peer down the edge very carefully from her position on the top floor. Just in time to see the crash of the garbage truck as it plows into the auction house. She can feel the shake of the floor under her feet, flailing herself backwards from the banister until she falls on her firm little ass. Curiosity about the book is forgotten for now. Surely the alarms will go off, and she's a long way up. The spiral staircase is her only option. With darkness on her side, she begins the long sprint down to the first floor.


As the blonde bolts down the stars she can hear voices, and catch flashes of men – at least four of them. All dressed like thugs from some gothic subculture. One shouts, “Five minutes, so fuck the little stuff. Find that book!” They divide the place up, one man watching for the cops, while the others head for the stairs, a floor per man. Emily can make it to the second floor before she’ll need to conceal herself or fight.


Well, that's not quite what she was expecting. Seems she wasn't the only one with intentions of stealing what wasn't hers. And what's with the book? She doesn't have time to think about that much. She can hear them coming up the stairs, before she backtracks into the shadows of the second floor. Through the night goggles she looks around for places in which she may be able to conceal herself. 


[DICE] Emily rolls dexterity+stealth+1, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 2 successes (1 1 5 6 6 7 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)



[DICE] Castle rolls 5 dice, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 0 successes (1 1 4 8 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


Two of the me men rush up towards the third and fourth floors, while the closest one nearly walks right past Emily. The beam from his flashlight literally crosses her torso. With her presence remaining unknown, he moves past flashing his light into the cases and searching for the book. Below them in the lobby, the fourth man yells up, “Four minutes!”


Emily holds her breath when the light flashes right over her torso. The man yelling downstairs sounding in her ears. Four minutes. She could wait them out. Chances are likely the authorities are on their way. She could look out of a nearby window while the man is searching the cases. Too bad they didn't have instructions like she did. Two stories isn't as far as four, so perhaps there's a ledge, or something she could climb down the building? Fire escape maybe?


In the distance, the tell tale sound of sirens can be heard wining towards the area of the auction house. “Oh shit, their early! We got cops in less than two minutes,” the man down stairs calls up to his companions. He then racks a shell into the receiver of the sawed-off shotgun he’s holding. “Find that fucking book!” The men continue to search, now crushing glass cases and knocking over expensive artwork in a flurry of shouts and curses. In the nearing backdrop, flashing blue lights begin to flicker as the speeding police cars approach. 


[DICE] Emily rolls dexterity+athletics, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 4 successes (1 4 5 6 7 9 9 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


And..she's out of time. With all the noise of smashing glass, they won't hear while she grabs something heavy enough to throw through the window, shattering her own glass. Not worried about tripping alarm systems now, she quickly kicks away any shards as to not cut herself. With book held tightly in hand, she leaps out of the window to the garbage truck below. That should break her fall at least. She's got a spare set of clothes in her bag. Just got to find an alley in order to do a quick change.


With the company in the building, and the approaching police cars, the safest, and least exposed location is the top of the trash truck. Emily can move more or less unhindered there, and yet still be right in the middle of the action. She can see at least two cars fast approaching.


First things first. That blasted book goes into the bag. Em's not going through all of this just to lose the book. Goggles and mask quickly come off, before she's unzipping the catsuit, peeling the fabric from her lithe, athletic form. The cool air of the night tickles against areas of exposed flesh, donned now in a scant, lacey bra with matching thong panties. Can't wear full undies in a catsuit. Shows panty lines! She works against the clock while seeing the blue lights growing closer, the two police cars speeding up to the scene. She rips out her blue jeans, and works them up her legs as stealthily as possible. Careful that her footfalls while balancing don't make the metal underneath bare feet creak. 


[DICE] Emily rolls dexterity+stealth, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 1 successes (1 2 4 5 8 8, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


“No time, no time,” the man downstairs shouts several time before letting two rounds off from the shotgun. The approaching police cars screech sideways to a halt some distance away, the officers within jumping out to return fire. Emily can hear bullets impacting the side of the trash truck a feet fee below her. “No book,” a man shouts as he comes running down the stairs pulling a handgun out. “No book?” They start to gather on the right side of the trash truck, all four of them. “Yeah, a case was open on the fourth floor. I think someone beat us to it.” … “Shit, he’s not going to be happy.” Another few round go off and the men return fire. More police cars can be seen on approach, there blue lights reflecting in the windows of distant buildings.


Just when Emily gets her pants on and fastened, the sound of the two gunshots make her jump slightly. She crouches down then, quietly, efficiently, only half-dressed. "Fuck me...I'm asking for triple.." she mutters against the noises of sirens and gunfire. Pulling the shirt over her head, she can hear the men as they go around to the right side of the truck, speaking amongst themselves. She's right there, in the middle of the action. This is better than watching it on television. She frowns though, wondering what is so special about this book, and who else wants it /that/ bad that they crash a trash truck into the side of the auction house. Pfft... Amateurs. For right now, she makes herself as small as she can, staying crouched, watching the action unfold all around her. Waiting for the right opportunity to hop off the truck, and make herself a witness, if she needs to. 


[DICE] Emily rolls perception+alertness, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 4 successes (2 4 5 5 6 9 10, Specialty: Yes, Willpower: No)


As two more police cruisers arrive, all lights and attention seem focused on the right side of the trash truck where the men are dug in and fighting. The left side seems the safest route, however it will lead her right into the approaching police. She can already see the lights on that side. However, It’s the best of a dab situation by far. No shots ring out below her, and to the right as the gunfight continues.


It will have to do. Watching the oncoming police cruisers for just a moment, she moves from her crouching position to do a handstand, hoisting her legs up in the air. What she will attempt is a quick double-flip off the truck, landing on her feet squarely, and darting off into the darkness so she can become a witness, instead of a suspect. Let's see how she does. 


[DICE] Emily rolls dexterity+athletics, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 3 successes (1 1 4 4 6 7 8 10, Specialty: Yes, Willpower: No)



[DICE] Castle rolls 4 dice, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 1 successes (2 5 5 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)



[DICE] Emily rolls stamina, difficulty 6 

[DICE] 1 successes (5 9, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)


Judges would likely give the young woman 10’s for the execution and landing amidst so many distractions. However, landing in a pile of derbies isn’t opportune. She strains her ankle, barely escaping a serious twist. It’ll leave her with a slight limp for the next couple hours. She is safe from the gunfire though, and headed the right direction to meet the approaching police car coming from the opposite direction.


She bites down on her bottom lips to keep from yelping out, reaching down to feel over the ankle. Good. No lasting complications. Something serious could end her career. She quickly gets up and brushes herself off, trying not to limp so noticeably as she watches the approaching cars come right in her direction. A quick smooth down of her flaxen hair before she prepares herself. She hoist the bag she carries with her gear and more importantly, that book, on a shoulder. It looks like a regular gym bag, and she is an Olympian. Always training.


The car screams to a halt nearby Emily, and while the driver points his gun towards the trash truck, his partner draws down on Emily. “Show me your hand lady! Show your hands!” He seems on edge, despite her harmless appearance. 


[DICE] Emily rolls perception+subterfuge, difficulty 7 

[DICE] 5 successes (2 2 7 7 7 8 8, Specialty: Yes, Willpower: No)



[DICE] Castle rolls 4 dice, difficulty 7 

[DICE] 1 successes (2 3 6 8, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)

Emily's pretty hazel, alluring eyes widen and immediately her hands shoot up in the air, showing she's not a threat. "Officers! Thank God you're here. I heard this awful crash when I was coming from the gym. I saw this trash truck just slammed into the building here! Then all hell just broke loose!" She fumbles over her words, eyes darting to the two policemen. She looks very much like a deer caught in headlights.


As expected, the gun gets holstered and in seconds the Cop’s got an arm around her rushing her back away from the gunfire. “It’s okay ma’am.. I’ll get you somewhere safe,” he tells her as he leads her towards a barricade that’s being erected at the end of the block. It look like most of the DPD uniform division has been called out. Even their SWAT vehicle is on the street, then men deploying from it ready to make quick business of the four guys in the auction house lobby. “Over here, this lady is a witness! Get her information and statement,” he say to another man who comes running over. “And call EMS, he hurt,” he adds having noticed the limp.


Those pretty eyes of hers flutter before she glances wide-eyed at all the uniforms and patrol cars - a sea of dizzying blue lights that cast shadows over her lovely face. She glances to the officer helping her towards the barricade. "Thank you so much Officer. I just didn't know what to do, it all happened so fast!" She exclaims, putting a hand against her chest. "What's going on, is anyone hurt?" She plays up the questions game, quite well, before the remark is made about her ankle. "Oh, no need Officer. I just overstressed my ankle at the gym. Just need to ice it and put an ace bandage over it and it'll be fine in the morning." She definitely knows what she's talking about.


The Officer nods, and hand Emily off to the other uniform police man. “Its fine ma’am. EMS can wrap it for you while Officer McNally takes your statement and gets all your information.” McNally if right there too, Ipad in hand. “I’m going to need your ID ma’am, or your name a date of birth so I can run you through our system – technology makes conceal your identity nearly impossible in such situations. Thankfully, Emily French is spotless. She already being shown a place to sit, while a broad shouldered EMS guy trots up with his med pack to wrap her ankle.


Emily offers a nervous, if not bright, warm smile, thanking the officer that escorted her before she talks to the next. She reaches into an outside, zippered pocket of her 'gym' bag to snatch out her wallet, proffering the driver's license. " Of course, of course. Emily French, sir." She's polite to boot! A light wince mars her otherwise stunning features while the EMT starts bandaging her ankle. She relaxes back a bit while he does his work. "I don't know how much I can help you, Officer McNally. I didn't see the truck actually crash into the building. Just heard it. Came over, because it just sounded awful. Metal crashing into brick and stone." She shivers.


After taking the ID, McNally says, “That’s fine ma’am, I…” then the gun fire suddenly stops, and in the distance a man can be heard yelling “Ceasefire! Ceasefire.” McNally glances back down the block, nodding to himself. Some radio traffic calls for an ambulance in reference to the burglary suspects being down, at least two fatally wounded. McNally turns back to Emily and nods again, watching the EMS worker as he slowly wraps her foot. “If anything it’s just a mild strain,” he tells both Emily and McNally. McNally nods again and smiles at Emily as he punches Emily’s information into his Ipad. “This is still your address Ms. French, and do you have a contact number?”

Naturally the flaxen-haired woman looks over as the gunshots cease, hearing the call go out and banter over nearby radios and walkies. She takes in a deep breath, closing her eyes just a bit. That was a close call. When the EMT states it is just a mild sprain, she opens her eyes, looking relieved. "Thank you so much, kind sir." She offers another winning, sultry smile before gazing up to McNally. "Yes, that is my current address. And I do have a contact number. It's private though."


“We won’t release it ma’am. It’s only for the detectives in case they have some follow up questions,” McNally assures Emily. He smiles, and seems genuinely honest. “McNally,” a man calls as he come running up. “Johnson and Ryback found something weird on one of the suspects,” he says as he trots up and glances down towards Emily. He gives her a nod, then looks back to the other cop. “Lt. Gates said call Castle. It’s one of /those/ cases.” McNally nods then shifts his attention back to Emily. “Your number ma’am? Then I’ll have one of the patrolmen give you a lift home if EMS approves.” The EMS guy nods his head thoughtfully.


She can't help but overhear, and naturally curious. She watches the officers while they speak back and forth, holding on to every word. Hazel eyes dart out to where the trash truck is, then back, before McNally gets her attention once more. She blinks, before nodding her head. "Oh, yes, of course." She gives him the number. "Please make sure it doesn't get out." She asks so sweetly, innocent. "Do you know what they found? Who's....Castle? Please tell me he didn't name himself after the TV show?" She can't help but smile, just a little.


McNally punches Emily number into his initial report, and smiles. “I’m not really sure what they found Ma’am, but Detective Castle is one of our investigators. He’s thorough so I’m sure he’ll be making contact with you in the days to come.” He gestures towards the other officer, the man that brought the new to McNally. “Petersen, your car is close. Can you give Ms. French here a ride to her place at,” he gives the address out. Petersen nods, and offers Emily a hand in rising.


Emily nods her head. "Alright. I'll look forward to talking to him then. Anything I can do to help." She puts her hand into the offered one, dainty but firm as she moves to rise, albeit a little wobbly. "Thank you for all your help, Officer McNally." She flashes one more friendly smile to the EMT, thanking him for his wrapping her foot. She glides her gaze over to Petersen, before moving with him to his car. "It's not too far from here."


Emily nods her head. "Alright. I'll look forward to talking to him then. Anything I can do to help." She puts her hand into the offered one, dainty but firm as she moves to rise, albeit a little wobbly. "Thank you for all your help, Officer McNally." She flashes one more friendly smile to the EMT, thanking him for his wrapping her foot. She glides her gaze over to Petersen, before moving with him to his car. "It's not too far from here."


Emily is loaded into a patrol car and driven home by Officer Petersen. The 6:00 A.M. news story explains the incident and releases the names of the three men who were killed, and a fourth listed in critical condition at the local trauma center.

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