Family Relations (Part Twenty Five)
Monday, October 13th, 2014 10:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mindcrackloveLink to Part Twenty-Four http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/861541.html#cutid1
The lieutenant stared at the papers in his hands. They had an anonymous tip line, and well boy, it was being put to good use lately. He’d been putting off reading the transcripts, as he was fairly certain what, or rather who they were about, but it was Sunday now, and he had to read this week’s batch before the new ones started in tomorrow. Or maybe tomorrow would be quiet? Ha! Not if his luck held up, not at all!
Looking at them, he thought at least a few were from the same person, which he found interesting. The only tell of that was the way the person was speaking, and that the transcriber had noted on the second that the voice was familiar and by the third was referring to the speaker as being the same as the one on the previous notes. Going back over the last few weeks noted the same thing, and they all appeared to be the same person. However, they appeared about…a bit over a month ago, no more. Everything prior to that was normal. These, however were all about, pretty much, the one soldier. And the same (damned!) civilian as before, as well.
He’d talk to Sergeant BTC, again, and if he didn’t get it at that point, he’d just, well…he’d keep in on base at that point. He didn’t think that he’d be that damned stubborn to disobey a direct order, after all.
As to the civilian…well.
How should he approach that, exactly? He knew the kid, for he was a kid, wouldn’t like to see him. That much was clear from what he’d been able to learn.
Thing was, it was clear from the transcripts, that the kid wouldn’t be here much long, and that the caller had way more information on the kid than he really should. And if the transcriber was correct, there was probably a half-way decent reason for that, namely, that the kid was important enough to be watched. And if you were watched by one, it would be…
The lieutenant stared at the ceiling for a long moment, before collecting all the transcripts that mentioned the kid, and going back over them again.
Two hours later and with a headache forming, he had confirmed his belief. The kid was being watched by at least three different people, and they were from what he thought was probably two different groups, at least. The kid, being a kid, was mostly ‘active’ during the same times, so those watching him would generally be on the same…schedule, as it were, so that wasn’t terribly surprising. What was more interesting was that the people seemed more…concerned than normal, particularly since one of them sounded rather like the MI51, and they normally didn’t care much about the Northern Irish that they over-saw. The third…well, it was a decent possibility that the lieutenant would be getting visited by the Intelligence Corps2, soon enough.
-----
Pyro sighed. He’d been left alone, but that mostly served to give him the time to realize that yes, yes he was being watched. He wanted to approached him and ask him why but that wouldn’t net him anything. And besides, he was pretty sure now that he was being watched by more than just his mother’s old spotter. That was…a less than pleasant realization. However, he only had another week here and then home. Well, and then talk and see if they’d come back for the summer.
He blinked slightly. Why was he so concerned about being watched? He knew that they were occasionally put on surveillance back home, why not now? He would ignore it back home, of course, since trying to pay attention to too much just resulted in exhaustion. So many people watching others, it was like a massive, very messed-up, chess game. A bloody violent chess game. So maybe not so much like a game after all. Whatever.
This week had been strange, anyways. Being talked…to, or was it at by that soldier, BTC, was bad enough, but then, on Thursday, when he was walking home, by himself (as Dinnerbone and Millbee both had things to do after school that day), he’d been approached by a different soldier. This one, he’d thought, was higher rank, though he still wasn’t good at recognizing the insignias, not yet. He’d been understandably nervous when the soldier had approached; he only had his school id card with him, nothing else.
Pyro yawned as he thought about how that encounter had gone.
He’d been walking, minding his own, when he’d finally noticed that he was about to intersect with a soldier who was walking towards him. He’d stopped to let the solider either pass him or stop with him, as he expected him to do. He had stopped in front of him, as he had feared he would. Stopping, he stood there quietly, keeping his hands in view. He was certainly not going to be the one to start talking first, no.
The soldier had watched him, seeming to expect him to speak. When he hadn’t, the soldier had hmmmmed at him, at a moderate level.
Pyro tilted his head slightly to the side and looked at the soldier and murmured “Hmmmm?” back at him.
The soldier had blinked at him several times before speaking.
“Would you happen to be Paul Connelly, from Belfast?”
“I was born in f...Derry3, but yes, that is my name.”
“Well, recently of Belfast, in any case?”
He titled his head again at the soldier. What was he getting at?
“Yes. We live there. I’m staying with my uncle here.”
The soldier smiled at that, and Pyro blanched slightly. Soldiers smiling at what you said…rarely if ever a good thing. But this one looked almost confused when he noticed him paling.
“Yes, yes, you’re who I was looking for…ahhhhh, no! Everything is fine.”
Pyro continued to stare at him, rather too scared to move or say anything at all. He got his voice back quickly and asked very quietly, ”I only have my school id, I’m sorry…”
“No, no, that’s fine, fine. You were talking to a sergeant; he’d have called himself BTC, yes?”
“If by talked to, you mean he’s been…” Pyro stared blankly for a moment. “He’s been talking at me, yes. Why?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why.
“Ah, well, see, what I’ve been hearing is that he hasn’t been leaving you alone. Is that true?”
“I…he…wasn’t…but he hasn’t come to find me since the last time, which was uh…last Saturday…”
The lieutenant nodded at that, seeming to come to a decision.
“Right then. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you anymore.”
“Ah, thank you?”
“Yes, well, he shouldn’t have…in any case, have a good day.”
“Uh…you too?”
At that, the lieutenant had turned and walked away, paying no more attention to Pyro. As soon as the lieutenant was far enough away for him to feel comfortable, he had bolted on home, not noticing the lieutenant stopping and watching him do so, shaking his head slightly at the sight.
Pyro yawned again. Thinking about that incident…well the soldier had been right, thus far. But there was still a week left before he went home, or a bit under it. He shrugged to himself and finished getting ready for bed.
-----
BTC stared at the ceiling of his room. He had his answers of what had happened that day, and it had been verified, albeit slightly…unscrupulously, having gotten the records of the kid’s injuries from the clinic, and checking out the grainy footage he’d gotten from a corner store from right after it had happened.
So.
Why couldn’t he let it go? Why couldn’t he leave the kid alone? He’d pushed enough that the lieutenant had finally, finally gotten pissed off enough to order him to remain on base. But still, he kept thinking and spinning and running it into the ground.
What made him so interesting?
He grumbled and kicked at the blankets.
If he really couldn’t let this go, he could just send him mail, god damn it. He had the kid’s home address, the one in Belfast, for Christ’s sake. He nodded to himself. If he hadn’t found a way to distract himself by…Wednesday, then he’d start writing the kid, instead of this nonsense.
-----
Notes, etc.
1 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MI5
2 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intelligence_Corps_%28United_Kingdom%29
3 He was about to say Free Derry, as (one of) the official name(s) of the city is LondonDerry. Nationalists rather prefer to call it Derry or Doire.
Link to Part Twenty Six- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/923525.html#cutid1
The lieutenant stared at the papers in his hands. They had an anonymous tip line, and well boy, it was being put to good use lately. He’d been putting off reading the transcripts, as he was fairly certain what, or rather who they were about, but it was Sunday now, and he had to read this week’s batch before the new ones started in tomorrow. Or maybe tomorrow would be quiet? Ha! Not if his luck held up, not at all!
Looking at them, he thought at least a few were from the same person, which he found interesting. The only tell of that was the way the person was speaking, and that the transcriber had noted on the second that the voice was familiar and by the third was referring to the speaker as being the same as the one on the previous notes. Going back over the last few weeks noted the same thing, and they all appeared to be the same person. However, they appeared about…a bit over a month ago, no more. Everything prior to that was normal. These, however were all about, pretty much, the one soldier. And the same (damned!) civilian as before, as well.
He’d talk to Sergeant BTC, again, and if he didn’t get it at that point, he’d just, well…he’d keep in on base at that point. He didn’t think that he’d be that damned stubborn to disobey a direct order, after all.
As to the civilian…well.
How should he approach that, exactly? He knew the kid, for he was a kid, wouldn’t like to see him. That much was clear from what he’d been able to learn.
Thing was, it was clear from the transcripts, that the kid wouldn’t be here much long, and that the caller had way more information on the kid than he really should. And if the transcriber was correct, there was probably a half-way decent reason for that, namely, that the kid was important enough to be watched. And if you were watched by one, it would be…
The lieutenant stared at the ceiling for a long moment, before collecting all the transcripts that mentioned the kid, and going back over them again.
Two hours later and with a headache forming, he had confirmed his belief. The kid was being watched by at least three different people, and they were from what he thought was probably two different groups, at least. The kid, being a kid, was mostly ‘active’ during the same times, so those watching him would generally be on the same…schedule, as it were, so that wasn’t terribly surprising. What was more interesting was that the people seemed more…concerned than normal, particularly since one of them sounded rather like the MI51, and they normally didn’t care much about the Northern Irish that they over-saw. The third…well, it was a decent possibility that the lieutenant would be getting visited by the Intelligence Corps2, soon enough.
-----
Pyro sighed. He’d been left alone, but that mostly served to give him the time to realize that yes, yes he was being watched. He wanted to approached him and ask him why but that wouldn’t net him anything. And besides, he was pretty sure now that he was being watched by more than just his mother’s old spotter. That was…a less than pleasant realization. However, he only had another week here and then home. Well, and then talk and see if they’d come back for the summer.
He blinked slightly. Why was he so concerned about being watched? He knew that they were occasionally put on surveillance back home, why not now? He would ignore it back home, of course, since trying to pay attention to too much just resulted in exhaustion. So many people watching others, it was like a massive, very messed-up, chess game. A bloody violent chess game. So maybe not so much like a game after all. Whatever.
This week had been strange, anyways. Being talked…to, or was it at by that soldier, BTC, was bad enough, but then, on Thursday, when he was walking home, by himself (as Dinnerbone and Millbee both had things to do after school that day), he’d been approached by a different soldier. This one, he’d thought, was higher rank, though he still wasn’t good at recognizing the insignias, not yet. He’d been understandably nervous when the soldier had approached; he only had his school id card with him, nothing else.
Pyro yawned as he thought about how that encounter had gone.
He’d been walking, minding his own, when he’d finally noticed that he was about to intersect with a soldier who was walking towards him. He’d stopped to let the solider either pass him or stop with him, as he expected him to do. He had stopped in front of him, as he had feared he would. Stopping, he stood there quietly, keeping his hands in view. He was certainly not going to be the one to start talking first, no.
The soldier had watched him, seeming to expect him to speak. When he hadn’t, the soldier had hmmmmed at him, at a moderate level.
Pyro tilted his head slightly to the side and looked at the soldier and murmured “Hmmmm?” back at him.
The soldier had blinked at him several times before speaking.
“Would you happen to be Paul Connelly, from Belfast?”
“I was born in f...Derry3, but yes, that is my name.”
“Well, recently of Belfast, in any case?”
He titled his head again at the soldier. What was he getting at?
“Yes. We live there. I’m staying with my uncle here.”
The soldier smiled at that, and Pyro blanched slightly. Soldiers smiling at what you said…rarely if ever a good thing. But this one looked almost confused when he noticed him paling.
“Yes, yes, you’re who I was looking for…ahhhhh, no! Everything is fine.”
Pyro continued to stare at him, rather too scared to move or say anything at all. He got his voice back quickly and asked very quietly, ”I only have my school id, I’m sorry…”
“No, no, that’s fine, fine. You were talking to a sergeant; he’d have called himself BTC, yes?”
“If by talked to, you mean he’s been…” Pyro stared blankly for a moment. “He’s been talking at me, yes. Why?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why.
“Ah, well, see, what I’ve been hearing is that he hasn’t been leaving you alone. Is that true?”
“I…he…wasn’t…but he hasn’t come to find me since the last time, which was uh…last Saturday…”
The lieutenant nodded at that, seeming to come to a decision.
“Right then. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you anymore.”
“Ah, thank you?”
“Yes, well, he shouldn’t have…in any case, have a good day.”
“Uh…you too?”
At that, the lieutenant had turned and walked away, paying no more attention to Pyro. As soon as the lieutenant was far enough away for him to feel comfortable, he had bolted on home, not noticing the lieutenant stopping and watching him do so, shaking his head slightly at the sight.
Pyro yawned again. Thinking about that incident…well the soldier had been right, thus far. But there was still a week left before he went home, or a bit under it. He shrugged to himself and finished getting ready for bed.
-----
BTC stared at the ceiling of his room. He had his answers of what had happened that day, and it had been verified, albeit slightly…unscrupulously, having gotten the records of the kid’s injuries from the clinic, and checking out the grainy footage he’d gotten from a corner store from right after it had happened.
So.
Why couldn’t he let it go? Why couldn’t he leave the kid alone? He’d pushed enough that the lieutenant had finally, finally gotten pissed off enough to order him to remain on base. But still, he kept thinking and spinning and running it into the ground.
What made him so interesting?
He grumbled and kicked at the blankets.
If he really couldn’t let this go, he could just send him mail, god damn it. He had the kid’s home address, the one in Belfast, for Christ’s sake. He nodded to himself. If he hadn’t found a way to distract himself by…Wednesday, then he’d start writing the kid, instead of this nonsense.
-----
Notes, etc.
1 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MI5
2 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intelligence_Corps_%28United_Kingdom%29
3 He was about to say Free Derry, as (one of) the official name(s) of the city is LondonDerry. Nationalists rather prefer to call it Derry or Doire.
Link to Part Twenty Six- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/923525.html#cutid1
