Missions of the Retrieval Team - Kiltmen Down

[The F-H.C.A.G.]

So, Charlie's Angels, and Dave's Devils is it?

Be well,

[davedove]

My last post today:

Scene 2

A private jet en route to South Carolina

As our jet made its way from St. John to Charleston, South Carolina, I began to mentally review my associates and their capabilities.

First of all, Ms. Starling, my lieutenant, had the unique skill set of both a police detective and an investigative reporter. Additionally, she had a fine tactical mind. I knew that if I became incapacitated, the team would be in good hands with her.

Next was our pilot, Ms. Falcon. I haven’t seen an aircraft, or even any other vehicle, that she couldn’t operate.

Next was Ms. Thrush, who could only be described as a combination infiltrator and con artist. This woman has the amazing ability to blend comfortably into any social setting. I have seen her equally at home in both a royal ball in her finest gown, or a NASCAR race in cut off shorts and a tube top.

Ms. Hawk was our weapons expert. She knows the combat characteristics of any weapon ever made, and many of those still on the drawing boards. I have never learned her complete past, but I have determined it had something to do with a certain covert government agency.

Ms. Raven also has a past, but hers is a little better known. She was in and out of jail as a youth. She would probably be there now if I hadn’t recruited her onto the team. Now she serves as our breaking and entering specialist. We haven’t found a lock yet that she hasn’t opened.

The last and newest member of our team is Ms. Swan. An expert computer hacker and internet surfer, she has the uncanny ability to sift through the staggering amount of information available on the web until she finds just what she’s looking for.

My team’s specialty is retrieving lost objects. Our clients seek us out when all the conventional channels have failed them. If something is lost, it’s our job to find it and return it to the rightful owner.

As I contemplated the note from the League, one thought kept coming back to me, what could the League need us for?

[Livingston]

I like this. Two writers with different styles. And each writing on a similar subject. This is good, very good.

[davedove]

Scene 3


Charleston International Airport


After landing at the airport and securing the jet, my team quickly changed into our working clothes. I strapped on a kilt made with the blue, white, and gold tartan of X Marks the Scot. Additionally, I decided to wear the sporran that the Moderator David had given me on my last visit. It was a most amazing sporran, with a great capacity, so it has often proved useful for the various items I am required to carry for my vocation.

My associates dressed in a somewhat different manner. On our missions they have found that assuming a non-threatening appearance allows them to function with less scrutiny. Thus, they assume the role of my “arm candy” in the public eye. As such, their clothing fits snuggly and showcases their more than attractive physiques. However, although the clothing is snug, it still allows complete freedom of movement should a situation occur. Their purses, while containing the various makeup items found in most women’s purses, also conceal their many specialized tools. I noticed that Ms. Swan even wore a bunny shaped pack to hide her laptop from view.

Only Ms. Hawk wore a loose, knee-length skirt. However, I knew this wasn’t due to any modesty on her part. Instead, the flowing skirt allowed her to conceal some very lethal weaponry. One of her hidden handguns had saved us more than once.

As we made our way to the gate, my associates began to play their role by taking my arms and walking close to me. To the general public, we became the playboy and his lady friends.

Since we didn’t know the exact location of the Great Hall (although Ms. Swan has been working on that,) I assumed that transportation would be provided, just as on my previous visit. As we passed through the gate, my assumption was proved correct.

Waiting for us at the curb was a black limousine, large enough for the entire team and our baggage. There to greet us was Dee, one of the heralds of X Marks the Scot, who I had met previously. He stepped forward and shook my hand.

“So glad you could make it, Mr. Dove. I’m afraid we don’t have time for pleasantries. Mike was adamant that I bring you to him as quickly as possible. If you would get into the car, I will see to your baggage.”

“Aren’t you going to blindfold us like last time?” I asked.

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary. The windows have been blacked out so you won’t be able to see outside, and the doors will be secured so you can’t open them to take a peek. The blindfolds were just a part of the Moderator competition, tradition and all that.”

He turned to open the car door for us, “Now, if you would please step inside, we can be on our way.”

My associates and I climbed into the car and settled in for the ride. There we found the liquor cabinet had been stocked with a selection of single malt scotches. Ms. Hawk poured us each only a small amount, as we wanted to keep our heads clear.

As we made the journey, I saw that Ms. Swan was trying to operate a hand held gaming device. Looking closer, I noticed that it was in reality a GPS unit made to resemble a game. She seemed to be having some difficulty with it.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It doesn’t seem to be picking up any signal. I can pull up our entire trip from St. John until we leave the airport. Then the record just stops.”

Ms. Falcon leaned in to take a look. “So y'all think ya just lost the signal?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. I’ll keep trying until we get to the Hall.”

“Don’t be too surprised,” I told her. “The Moderators have kept the location of the Hall a secret for a long time now. I doubt if their wishes will be thwarted by a small electronic device.”

[davedove]

Scene 4


Courtyard of the Great Hall of X Marks the Scot, somewhere in South Carolina


After a long ride ending with a steep climb up what sounded like a gravel road, the limousine came to a stop. A moment later, the door was again opened by Dee and he beckoned for us to get out of the car.

“Is this it?” asked Ms. Starling, as we gazed across the courtyard at the huge manor house, illuminated with the late evening sun.

“Yes, this is the place,” I answered. However, something looked different about the place. “I’m not sure, but it looks like the surface has been covered with gold since I was here.”

“It’s a trick of the light,” responded Ms. Starling. “If you’ll examine the stonework more closely, you’ll notice the tiny crystals embedded in the surface. They catch the light of the setting sun and cast a golden shade over the whole structure. I wonder if they arrange for all their guests to arrive at this time of day in order to showcase the effect. It really does make the place look even more impressive. It’s quite ingenious.”

Dee spoke up, “I’ll tell Panache you like it Ms. Starling. It was his idea. He always did go in for finery.”

As we started walking towards the Hall, a large flock of chickens scurried out of our path. “Dee, what’s with the chickens?” I asked the herald.

“Oh, those, I’m afraid that’s a project of our butler, Spasm. It seems he’s trying to get enough eggs for the Moderators’ breakfasts. You should have been here earlier. He actually tried to plant the chickens in order to grow an ‘egg crop.’ The smell was horrible.”

Ah, yes, I remembered Spasm. The poor old fellow had been suffering from senility on my last visit. It seemed it was getting worse.

“One other thing, Dee, where should I put the sword?” I held the claymore out to him.

“Not again, I really must talk to the staff about this. Ever since Colin came up with the idea of the swords for the Moderator trials, the staff thinks every message has to be sent that way. I specifically asked them to text message you about the mission. Here, give me the sword. I’ll take care of it. Now, follow me. Mike is waiting for you in his office.”

As we made our way to the door, Ms. Swan whispered to me. “I still can’t get any signal on the GPS and we’re out in the open. There has to be an open satellite signal at the top of this mountain.”

“Keep trying,” I whispered back. “I suspect it won’t work, but you never know.”

[davedove]

Scene 5


Executive Officer’s Office, Great Hall of X Marks the Scot


Dee led us through the Grand Foyer and down a hallway to a large open door. Knocking on the door, he called inside, “Mike, they’re here.”

When the man raised him head from the work on his desk, I saw that it was indeed Mike, who was second in the League only to Hank. He rose from the desk and beckoned to us. “Come in, come in, I don’t have all day.”

Sensing Mike’s impatience, my associates and I quickly entered the rather large office. I walked up to Mike to shake his hand. “Hello, Mike, we got here as quickly as we could. Allow me to introduce my team.”

Mike waved me off and began shaking the hands of the ladies. To my amazement, he spoke to each of them by name. “So glad you could make it, Ms. Starling, Ms. Thrush, Ms. Falcon, Ms. Hawk, Ms. Raven, Ms. Swan.”

He turned back to me. “Pardon me, but didn’t you have seven associates the last time you were here?** Tell me, where is Ms. Stork?”

Again I was amazed at his knowledge of my team. “She is standing by at my headquarters, ready to assist us. If she is needed she will join us later.”

“Well, you will probably want to contact her after the briefing. You may very well need her expertise on this mission.”

Yet again, how did he know her expertise. Ms. Stork was an expert in history, anthropology, mythology, and folklore. Her talents often came in handy when looking for some of the more rare targets of our missions.

“Speaking of the mission, sir, what do you need us for?”

“That will be answered shortly. If you would all follow me to the media room, we can get started.”

** See ‘The Curious Tale of Panache and the League of the Moderators,’ Chapter 16.

[davedove]

Scene 6

Media Room, Great Hall of X Marks the Scot

We followed back down the hallway and down the stairs to the floor below. He led us into a large room with a large screen on the far wall, with rows of very comfortable looking chairs in rows before it. Dee, following us into the room, closed the door behind us.

Mike picked up a small control device and motioned for us to take seats. “Dee, would you dim the lights.”

As the lights dimmed, Mike activated the control he held and the screen lit up. Pictured on the screen were three gentlemen. “Do you recognize these men?” he asked.

As an active member of the forum, I recognized the men immediately. Their images had often graced the forum.

“Yes I do. They’re members of the forum. From left to right, they are Riverkilt, Graham, and Hamish.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, they are among the more active members of the forum. Each is a full time kilt wearer. They live in Arizona, Tasmania, and West Sussex, I believe.”

“Correct, and as of this week they have one other thing in common. Each of these men has disappeared.”

“What do you mean, disappeared?”

“Well, the local authorities in each location believe it’s a simple missing person case. Since each man is an adult, with his full mental faculties, nothing much has done yet. For all the authorities know, the men may have simply decided to take a pleasure trip and not told their families and such.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“No, only those of us who are members of the forum know their connection. While the authorities see each as an isolated incident, we believe there is something else happening. We believe they may have been kidnapped.”

“But who would want to kidnap them, and why?”

Mike slowly paced in front of the lit screen, looking down at his feet. He looked back up at us as if he had been weighing his options and had made a decision. “Before I continue, I have to let you know that what I am going to tell you is classified League information and is not to leave this room. Can you agree to that?”

My associates and I looked at each other, realizing the gravity of what Mike was about to reveal to us. Turning back to Mike, I answered, “Mike, my team is accustomed to handling sensitive information. Anything you tell us will be held in the strictest confidence.”

Mike hesitated again. It was clear that the information he was about to tell us was weighing heavy on his mind. Finally, after a long moment of silence, he again spoke.

“Mr. Dove, ladies, we believe that these gentlemen have been abducted by the Kilt Police.”

[ccga3359]

Dove, I too, bid for this contract. You severely undercut me. I see that you signed for the book deal. Curse you. Send Ms. Thrush over to negotiate kilt check movie rights.

[davedove]

Dove, I too, bid for this contract. You severely undercut me. I see that you signed for the book deal. Curse you. Send Ms. Thrush over to negotiate kilt check movie rights.

Hmmm, movie rights. I wonder who should be cast to play Mr. Dove in the movie?