Speaking of Shadows...

Posted on Tue Jun 28th, 2011 @ 3:48pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD & Lieutenant Commander Aral Aix

Mission: Too Close for Comfort...
Location: Unknown
Timeline: Concurrently with 'Bumming Around'

A rather burly, middle aged man stood in a darkened room, surveying the equipment that he and his partner were about to use. It had taken months to prepare everything... And it would only take the recently arrived Starfleet team minutes to ruin the carefully laid out plans should they be alerted to any of the activities that had been going on as of late. It did him no good to worry about it, they had been careful, they had been precise in their calculations and preparations. Very little was being left to chance other than the inclusion of the Starfleet variable. With any luck, their efforts would be written off as something other than what they truly were.

The man's companion, an equally burly but considerably younger man sat at a work bench, putting the finishing touches on one of the devices that had yet to be positioned. The pair had spent a vast amount of time constructing the explosives and positioning them in places that neither prying eyes nor tricorder scans were able to reach easily. It helped that his partner was adept at keeping the power signature on the receiver assembly at a minimum without sacrificing range.

"How much longer until you finish that one?" the man inquired of his partner.

"Nearly there." The man replied. "Just... got to align the power matrix with the command module." His wrist was positioned at an awkward angle and his chubby hand filled the hole. There was a clicking noise and a high pitched whirr. "There," he said, "Another one done." His voice betrayed a hint of satisfaction tempered by glee worthy of a schoolboy.

"Good, only four more and we'll have the entire place canvassed. Have you heard anything from our contact in the Ministry?" the older man inquired as he crossed the room and slid behind his own work station.

He smiled, particularly proud of himself they had managed to gain leverage over a van driver who would be delivering goods to the cafeteria. "We could get a platoon right up the First Minister's arse if we had to." He giggled, "It's set up, 1900 hours."

"Too bad we don't have a platoon..." came the lamented reply, "I wonder when those Starfleeters are supposed to head over to the Ministry Complex... would be nice to kill two birds with one stone..."

"If it's that bastard Cowell, I'd be only too happy to nail him." The younger man scratched his chin, "They are planet-side now... it depends how long the First Minister keeps them entertained I suppose."

"We'll just have to see... they aren't the primary target, and they might be useful yet as scape-goats..." the older of the two remarked with a smirk, "Finish your work, and let's be done with this place..."