A trail of aching derrières- next time they'll be more thoughtful

[gone_byebye]

The door opens onto an expanse of asphalt, steel, and glass. Nearby a sign reads:

WELCOME TO WHITE FLINT MALL
BEST PRICES IN THE DC AREA

4708 BETHESDA AVENUE
CHEVY CHASE, MD

It's a big parking lot, with the mall itself only visible off in the distance. Ray gives it the squint-eye before turning to the others. "Okay, people," he says. "This is it. Johnny says it's underground. Egon's best estimates indicate three miles down. Are we good?"

Comments

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

"Uh, can we save the geek convention for later, guys, and get focused?" Peter then said.

"We got any other options *besides* crawling through tiny spaces?"

[gone_byebye]

"Ohhhh," says Mike. "Okay. Well- huh. Can any of you do any kind of tracking in the dark? Do you have infrared capability? Can the dinosaur track by smell? Because if that's the case I can make this a whoooole lot easier for you." He gestures upwards. "They tried bribing me a couple of times with information about the local electrical routing, which was a big mistake on their part. Especially after I lifted one of the guards' PDAs. It's been wrecked since, but I know the wiring around here like the inside of my eyelids. I can go through the ventilation system and knock out the lights as we go, if you've got flashlights. If you don't, I can make a point of stopping at the vents to let your dinosaur there catch wind of me. Would that work?"

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew grins, and points at Mike.*

Oh I like him.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht chuckled.

"I think I can do one better than that," he says. He rummages around in his equipment and pulls out a spare communicator. A few quick adjustments are made and he hands it over to the techie.

"There. Keep an open channel and we'll track you just fine. Now...I believe we are looking for a particular office."

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, fine. We good then? Because I'll bet Peck's getting really anxious, and we don't want to keep our ol' buddy waiting do we?" Evil, evil grin on his face.

[gone_byebye]

Mike chews on his bottom lip a moment. "I don't think I know that name," he says uncertainly.

Ray steps forward. "He's about this tall, red hair, bulgy eyes, straggly mustache that looks like he bought it at a Ron Jeremy garage sale, bit of a goatee, real pale-"

"Oh, him! Okay, yeah,' says Mike. "The weird guy. Him I can find. He's this way."

Without further ado he sticks the communicator in his pants (please do not ask where) and starts scrambling back into the ventilation shaft.

[redsnout.livejournal.com]

Red watches for a moment, then trots along, following Mike from the ground. She can smell him easily enough, and she's interested in finally finding this particular Peck human. The raptor can't help but be game for a possible opportunity to bite someone.

[stilljustandrew]

*The team follows the ventilator shaft down the hallway. At one point they step aside to let a hunched-over man scurry past them, clutching an armload of old-fashioned fanfold printout and muttering wildly under his breath. He gives them a cursory glance and hurries on.*

*At the end of a twisting length of corridor, by a door with a small glass window set in it, a grill pops out of the ventilator shaft, followed shortly by a grinning Mike. Andrew peers at him.*

This the place?

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Sure is!" Mike says. "Big one, too. Son of a bitch has got some clout with the higher-ups."

"Well, there's no accounting for taste. Or good sense, for that matter," Naraht says. Needless to say, the door (and a hefty portion of the wall) doesn't stand much of a chance against his ire. But, as he breaks through, there's small sound of disappointment. "Not here. If I was incredibly petty and trashed his office, would that reflect badly on me as a Starfleet officer?"

[gone_byebye]

"This is me not noticing a single thing you might possibly consider doing," Ray says. "Although it might be a good idea to take his hard drives and USB drives and stuff first. You never know. That kind of stuff might come in handy."

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

"Aww, let Naraht have some fun. Come on, hasn't this whole plan warmed the cockles of your heart with the opportunity to get him like this?"

Peter then held up the thrower, "Speaking of which, who's up for a barbeque?"

He looks around the office, "Here, Peck. Come out, come out wherever you are. Pete's got that fruit basket for ya."

Whoops, was that his bookshelf that just got flambeed? Could have sworn there was a ghost there.

[redsnout.livejournal.com]

Red watches for a moment, her head tilted to the side, then decide sto join in. She's carefully to keep her distance form peter though, prefering to wander around and gnaw on things, or swipe at them. Some of the swipes aren't even on purpose; the office isn't really built for a dinosaur, and it's hard nto not occasionally knock into things.

[spark-girl.livejournal.com]

The clack of metal bits striking metal can be heard off in the distance.

Lots of metal bits. And they're coming closer.

Finally, catching up with them around a turn, a small swarm of dingbots arrive. Agatha follows, close behind. She's slightly flushed, but grinning. Was her gun that large before?

"Sorry about that -- I paused a moment, there was this fascinating device that I just had to get a closer look at -- and I knew I'd get caught up faster if I had a few dingbots to help track you down . . . did I miss anything?"

[gone_byebye]

"Mostly we met a new friend who's been helping us through the complex," Ray says. "Mike, this is Agatha Clay; Agatha, this is-"

The man is staring down at the dingbots with an utterly awed expression on his face. "Mike Jittlov," he says, sticking out a hand to the girl. "These are yours? All of them? Totally improvisational? Oh, wow."

[spark-girl.livejournal.com]

Agatha shakes the offered hand.

"Hello, Mike. Yes, these are mine. Granted, I didn't build them all -- they're self-replicating."

Far behind her, a few stragglers who were given no specific orders are building more. Just one more bit of random chaos to distract Security.

[blond-w-brain.livejournal.com]

The two Egons finally catch up.

"Sorry," says Blond, "we needed some time to get something in place."

"Indeed," says Brown, "I think they will be most impressed."

Something crackles on Blond's belt, and a voice is heard: "Decidedly so, counterparts. I know I happen to be impressed with it." Venkman... He knows that voice. Oh god, he knows that voice.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht has finished collecting the hard-drives and other easily portable but high density data carriers.

"Okay, gentlebeings. If you would kindly give me some room, I'm going to do a little redecorating."

A snicker. "I won't be using my acids and grinders, though. There may be an outside risk that Peck's stupidity might be contagious. Ramming speed, Mr. Christian!"

With that, three quarters of a ton of Horta plows into the desk.

[stilljustandrew]

*Meanwhile, Andrew's wandering off on a circuit around the large room, examining the walls.*

*Somewhere around here, there's probably something resembling a back door.*

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

Peter's reaction to the voice?

0_________O!!!!!!!!!!!

"Spengs? Wait, why didn't you tell me you got an invite to the shindig? You sly devil you..." He finally exclaimed, shaking his head in pleased surprise.

[gone_byebye]

Ray jumps backwards at the Horta's enthusiastic fit of destruction, but that shouldn't be a surprise to anyone. He's a little spazzy sometimes, and this sure qualifies.

Andrew's found himself a door, all right. The maintenance staff has to get around somewhere and they can't always be in the way. who wants to get in the way of someone with a cartload of office trash?

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew glances over his shoulder at Naraht, considers asking him to take down the door, reconsiders, and tries the knob.*

[spark-girl.livejournal.com]

The sheer level of new tech around her is extremely tempting for Agatha, but she remains strong and focuses on the task at hand, humming her usual odd tune. Random destruction is par for the course, so she simply keeps her distance from the Horta.

"We should be prepared in case the noise attracts more guards."

Her gun is at the ready, and her clanks make clicking noises of agreement.

[gone_byebye]

Mike looks very much as if he's in love at the moment- with the clanks. He hasn't even noticed the Horta. In fact, he appears to be attempting to communicate with one of the smaller clanks in its own language. It's all very Close Encounters.

Andrew's door opens to a closet, a pretty simple one at that. At the far end of the closet there's another door. That one opens onto a fairly dull hallway, exactly the sort of thing you'd expect service workers to use anywhere in the world. Door after door in either direction, cinderblock walls, flickering fluorescent light-

-you know, the light happens to be illuminating a closet full of all kinds of confiscated gadgetry that really belongs in an evidence locker somewhere. Apparently Peck's been keeping interesting toys and souvenirs just in case he needs them.

[stilljustandrew]

SWEET.

*Andrew pockets a few random items, and makes a mental note to tell Ray about that closet.*

[blond-w-brain.livejournal.com]

The Egons are poking around the room at things, while keeping up a dialogue to their third, who is apparently busy rousting something called 'Fido'...

...who is apparently making that noise coming down the hallway they came in, which is making disconcerting sorts of creaking noises and heavy breathing, along with Black-hair-Egon apparently lecturing it.

Really, Blond-Egon shouldn't look so smug. Brown-Egon is giving him a dirty look for it.