FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

~ The long hallways of the passenger starliner provided Detective Clip plenty of time to practice her saunter of calm innocence. In one pocket, the memory drive that had successfully acquired a copy of the data from the buyer's computer, the other her set of door picks that had granted her entry to his cabin. A few cabins down, a raccoon stepped out of his own cabin and into the hallway. The Detective sought to blend in like just another tourist on their way to The Depot.

~ "Hey there! Do you know where the bar is? I get turned around in these things.", smiling sweetly to the raccoon.

~ His reply came with a groggy yawn, "You're walking the right way. Just keep goin' until the floor panels are blue, then look for the stairs. I'm finding a shower.", followed by a polite wave as he staggered down his own path.

~ Now both knowing where to go and pretending to know where to go, Detective Clip stepped up her pace to a bit of a skip. The lump of data she'd found on the buyer's computer was likely the archive of interest; and the deal this afternoon would be when payment would be traded for the key needed to decrypt it. The Detective needed to simply lay eyes on the exchange, and the evidence against the data smuggler would be sufficient to call in to the next port.

~ Up one level, the bar was a fairly low key affair. Clip took a seat at the bar, carefully arranging herself to get a view of the smuggler's reflection from the mirror behind the bar. To the bartender she requested, "A tall glass of Possum's Tail, please."

~ The fennec peered up and over to the jackalope, "You know that stuff non-alc...", being interrupted by Clip's curt reply.

~ Detective Clip held her hand up, "Then go light on the ice, then.", sliding payment across the bar.

~ The jackalope was into her second beverage when the buyer arrived to the smuggler's table. She couldn't hear what they were saying from this distance, but it was clear that the buyer was entirely a novice in the whole process; the only real way he could have been worse at this would have been to use a burlap sack rather than the envelope of cash he handed over. With a smooth subtly, the smuggler passed over the slate gray briefcase. An eruption of nervous laughter, and the buyer scrambled away with his prize.

~ After a count to thirty, the Detective slipped away from the bar in a fluid stride. She left a tip in her wake, the smuggler's attentions dedicated to ordering some delicate manner of a dinner. Along her path down the hallway, the jackalope ran through the script in her head of presenting the buyer with a warrant and demanding the briefcase. Over and over on loop; she wanted him to be quite aware that the smuggler was who she cared about, and the briefcase's contents.

~ Some distance down the hall, the buyer fumbled with his door key for a bit. Detective Clip approached. He opened his door, tossing in the briefcase; never having opened it.

~ This was of utter surprise and windfall to Clip, who kept up her approach without a change to her pace, the buyer scrambling away to some engagement elsewhere on the liner.

~ In the solitude she soon found in the hallway during the dinnering hour, Clip's door pick allowed her to slip into the cabin. The briefcase had landed on the bed, as to be expected, and had a simple lock of five numbers. With an ear perked for problems, the jackalope settled down to pressing a shim in against the side of the first wheel; rotating it until the shim fell into the notch. When the remaining four wheels were similarly arranged, Clip tried the lock.

~ The slider didn't budge.

~ With a soft nod, the detective rotated each wheel up one number.

~ The slider didn't budge.

~ On the fourth try, the lock clicked open.

~ "Oddly easy to pick for such a practiced smuggler..."

~ The briefcase was entirely empty, no matter how long Detective Clip stared into it. She checked each pocket in turn, and again.

~ "This isn't the kind of business where you burn your rep for a single paycheck..."

~ She stepped back, staring intently at the briefcase for a moment. Her ears perked, crouching down to read the lock on the briefcase. She scribbled down on her pad, "Five.. One.. Five.. Seven.. Nine..", smiling.