The check came and Tarin paid for it, as he had called Ranger to meet it was only right he paid, as such the Ranger did not stop him or offer to pay his share. Tarin agreed to go along with the Ranger's plan to take his truck. The Ranger rose from the table and kicked his chair back in, made his way across the pub, and stepped out onto the street.

The Ranger had parked a few blocks behind the pub and on the way there Tarin provided additional information with regards to his wife's kidnapping. Upon reaching the street he parked on a few cars could be seen near parking meters, but one stood out. The Ranger's truck.

"The Fordasaurus. My all-terrain tactical staging area."

As the two men made their way towards Michael’s car, Tarin couldn’t help but wonder what kind of care would be required to stay incognito in New York City. Cars weren’t exactly rare in the city, but blending in was more difficult in a city with more security cameras than people. Sure, this was serious business, but Tarin couldn’t help but have visions of covert work in his mind, sneaking and spying.

He should have known better. He’d had the chance, twice, to see just how different things were in the real world from mental or entertainment fantasies. Columbia and Romania had been anything but glamorous, and as they made their way towards the vehicle, Tarin set himself up for disappointment.

He wasn’t disappointed though, he was shocked.

”Ford-a-saurus….” Tarin said, slowing to a stop and staring at the monstrosity that was supposed to get them around.

Tarin repeated the name and stared at the truck. It was clear he had expected something else. Perhaps he thought the Ranger would have some car which would allow him to move around stealthily through the city. That was always an option but in the instance you are discovered you are in a car that can't go very fast and can't go off road. "The truck is a stagin' area, it houses equipment an' facilitates communication an' intelligence gatherin'. You don' drive it up t' the target, unless you need a batterin' ram."

The Ranger slid keys out of his pocket and clicked the doors unlocked. He made his way around to the driver side and opened the door. It slid out and up, the driver and passenger side front doors were butterfly doors. The two following rows were gull-wing doors. He stepped up on the step on the diesel tank and pulled himself into the cab. Leather seats were all that remained of the old interior, the old radio was replaced by a suite of radios ranging from police scanners to aircraft radio. The console was locked, various cases were in the truck, all locked. The Ranger quickly whipped out a key and unlocked the console, a Saiga-12 lay in the floorboard of the passenger side. He took the Saiga, folded the stock back against the receiver, and slid it into the console drum magazine up nestled between a P90 and S&W 500.

That being taken care of the Ranger put the key in the ignition and fired up the engine. The loud rumble of the diesel engine stood out against the backdrop of New York's traffic noise. The radios came to life, the volume turned down but the disembodied voices of police, pilots, and air traffic controllers could be heard, but to quiet to understand. Rather, music from an mp3 player could be heard, playing an artist who started out in the area where Ranger grew up. College Station, Texas. Roger Creager - Love .

Apparently this wasn’t a truck. Tarin almost made a smart comment asking what else it was besides a tank…but thought better of it and simply watched instead. It was still hard to believe that this monster could get anywhere in the city without being noticed by half a million people, but Michael was the professional here…and Tarin had to trust him.

The passenger door was opened, though, and the Medium had to gape, open-mouthed for a moment before doing anything else. The whole damn thing was an arsenal! Who drove around New York City with stuff like that on the floorboards? Who was he getting in a car with?

Tarin took a breath and composed himself a bit. He was getting in a car with someone who Slate trusted to get the job done. Since Columbia, Slate had never misguided or misled Tarin for an instant. The trust in his employer had definitely been earned and the Medium wasn’t going to start questioning him now.

Into the truck Tarin got, letting the little boy inside him admire the radio set up and the nice interior. The radio was obviously some sort of scanner as well, and Tarin listened for a moment, shaking his head as he shut the door and buckled his seat-belt. Safety-first.

They took off into traffic, and again Tarin marveled at the fact that Michael could maneuver this thing on the busy New York streets. Deciding to simply stop paying attention, Tarin decided to break the scanner broken silence with small talk.

”So how does someone get into this business?” he said curiously, wondering just how much information he was going to be able to get.

Tarin had climbed up into the truck and buckled his seat belt, the Ranger buckled his and pulled the truck out of the parking spot. He drove it to the end of the road and entered traffic. When navigating traffic being in one of two types of vehicles is a must, a fast car that can move in and around the other cars, or an intimidating car that no one in their right mind would try to play chicken with.

That was a rule of driving in Texas, and it still held true in New York , only more so with the latter part since most people drove smaller vehicles and the congestion would pin down the faster cars. The Ranger knowing this rule could move around traffic by simply slowly moving into a lane it would clear, or honking his horn at the guy who's bumper he was riding to get them to move.

Tarin broke the not so silent silence, ”So how does someone get into this business?”

Ranger killed the music and replied, "Have the right skill set an' run inta the right people." He hasn't been doing this as a business for all too long, only really after Lenna introduced him to Slate. Prior to that he kept to the background and exercised justice where the law enforcement failed or wouldn't be able to handle it. Though, that would only deal with the small amount of reported crime, what he does now could bleed over into the unreported crime.

At least Michael drove the beast like he knew what he was doing. If there was one thing that infuriated the man in the passenger seat, it was people who drove trucks like they were riding around with a roller skate strapped to their rear. It made no sense! When you had an aggressive vehicle, you needed to drive it aggressively. Plain and simple. Michael did. All was good, including the music, it was quieted when Tarin asked his question though.

The answer was pretty much what the Medium had expected, not much at all. Running a hand through his hair, Tarin leaned back in his seat and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. ”That’s how I got involved with Slate too. We actually met at The Mansion, if you know where that is…through my wife.”

Tarin paused for a moment, it had been a long time since he’d thought about his stay at the Mansion, ”Slate helped me through something pretty rough with his abilities. I return the favor whenever I can.”

Usually, Tarin wasn’t quite this free or candid with information about his powers, but the nature of the business that he was engaging in with Michael made it feel almost necessary and he waited for a response before continuing.

"I know where the Mansion is. I hear it's a nice place, never been there myself though." And why would he? The mansion was a school for mutants. He didn't have business with children who were in theory supervised.

"What do you do for Slate?" Obviously Tarin was not some pawn that Slate just sent off to handle trivial matters, Slate had given him the Ranger's contact information regarding this job. And the Ranger's connection to him was far from official.

After a while the Ranger turned into a dark alleyway, all the light came from his headlights which were killed once the Fordasaurus came to a stop. The engine continued to rumble as diesel engines should be let to idle before killing them. In the meantime the Ranger stepped out of the front of the car, opened a door farther back and reentered. He opened a diamond plated case and removed a 190 lumen Pelican flashlight and a tension set. The set stashed into a back pocket the Ranger returned to the front and killed the engine.

"We're a block an' a half away from the warehouse you said they found yer wife." With that he slammed the door and set off down the street.

The Mansion. Tarin nodded his head at Michael’s comments and chuckled, ”There’s some real decent people there.”

What did he do for Slate? That was a much more difficult question, but now wasn’t the time for subterfuge. If Michael was going to trust him, Tarin had a feeling he needed to be transparent. ”On the books…I’m a consultant.” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, ”Off the books…I’m a consultant and I help him with his side projects.” Just because he wasn’t going to lie didn’t mean Tarin was going to tell everything he knew.

The car stopped, Michael exited, re-entered, exited, re-entered, and killed the engine. They were about a block and a half away from where Lee had been found. Tarin’s jaw clenched slightly and he nodded. ”We should do some recon then.” he said, opening the door and stepping out of the truck.

The Medium didn’t go far, stopping at the front of the large truck. ”You asked what I do for Slate?” he said, hopefully loud enough for Michael to hear. Then grinned a grim grin…there were spirits…too many of them for any normal area. They were definitely in the right place. ”I hope you’re not scared of things that go bump in the night.” he said, then started the show.

They materialized slowly, vague shapes moving through the darkness where Tarin and Michael stood. Tarin fed more power into them and the spirits became more distinct as Tairn’s irises became less so…until only the whites showed. The spirits were women, several of them, and tentatively Tarin reached out to make a mental connection to the nearest. It snapped into place and he winced as the images flowed backwards through the link.

”We’re definitely in the right place.” he said, ”And this is definitely one sick son of a bitch.

Tarin fed a little more power into the link and the woman before them became almost complete opaque. In life she’d been a little over five feet tall with large eyes and dark hair.

”If you want to know anything about the inside of the building, she’ll tell you. Go ahead and ask.”

A consultant who helps with side projects. It was very vague, but to be expected. He also suggested they do recon, the Ranger agreed. He kept on his way down the street when Tarin called out to him... Why would it matter if he was scared what went bump in the night? He stopped and turned to face Tarin, a confused look on his face when he began to see the shapes of people begin to appear out of nothing. As they became more apparent the Ranger drew his gun, "What in Sam Hill...?"

Eventually one of the women became all but opaque. This was like nothing the Ranger had seen before, it was like he was looking at a ghost. And Tarin said to ask her anything about the inside of the building. Was she a ghost of a victim?

"Is that what I think it is?" The Ranger pointed at the woman keeping his gun down. He looked to the ghost woman, "What's inside the buildin', are there any police around that could see our approach on the buildin', is there anythin' the police missed in there?"

Tarin had to smile a little bit at Michael’s reaction to the spirits. He handled it better than most people, but that was to be expected. If Tarin was correct…Michael had probably seen a lot. The gun wasn’t intimidating to the Medium, he had the spirits firmly in control and he simply nodded his head when his associate asked if the spirits were what he thought they were.

”Yeah.” Tarin said, running a forearm over his forehead to wipe away the cold sweat that had broken out there. The death images were not pretty. How had Lee managed to hold on so long?

”This is what I do. She’s one of his…they all are. he said, ”He keeps…kept them here. Set up a perfect little life, with a perfect little house…like they were married.” Tarin broke off and shuddered a little. ” Always came up with a reason why it didn’t work out…jealousy.”

Boy that was a lot, and Michael had questions for the spirit. Tarin had to appreciate his professionalism.

The woman nodded her head and spoke, her voice soft an musical. Tarin wanted to know who she was.

” No police or security besides the cameras, and we can take care of those. “ she said, nodding to the other, more transparent, spirits.

As to the second. She shrugged, ” They did a good job, but they missed the hidden place with the photo album.” Her face grew grim and her voice was more angry when she continued, ”He’d always show us that album, with the house, and the fence, and the dog. He kept papers in there too, but never showed me them. He said it was business.”

Tarin nodded his head, ” Thanks for that. Thanks a lot.” he said, then turned back to Michael. ”Is that enough?”

Tarin explained and the Ranger returned his gun to concealment. These ghosts were of the women the twisted bastard had killed. This whole deal was odd and seemed to fantastical, but the man hadn't seemed too special before and Slate probably wouldn't hand just anyone his contact info.

The woman answered his questions. Nothing except for security cameras to worry about... Which the ghosts would be handling... Somehow. She then informed them of a hidden album the police had never found.

Tarin then thanked the woman and asked the Ranger if that was all. "Can you show us where it is once we get inside?" That being the last question he needed answered at the time.

Michael didn’t seem to have anymore comments about what Tarin could do and again, The Medium was a little impressed. Most people had something to say when they saw what he could do. The spirit was waiting patiently, but Tarin could feel how intently she was focused on what they were saying and what they were doing.

His cohort asked if the spirit could show them where the papers and pictures were hidden and she nodded. ”I never saw when I was there, but after…” she paused, and again Tarin felt the intensity coming off the woman in waves through their mental link, ”Yes. I can show you where it is. He hasn’t been back, so everything should still be there.”

Tarin nodded his head, and looked down the street. Michael had said they were only about a block and a half away from the building. ”In that case, go ahead and take care of the cameras. I’ll make sure you guys are tangible enough to do what you need. Just let me know when.”

Off they flew, and Tarin closed his eyes, watching through their eyes as they approached the building where Lee, where all of them, had been kept in their captivity.

”Sorry if that waxed on dramatic.” he said to Michael, ”I guess it’s one of my many faults.”

The spirits made it to the building, and Tarin nodded his head to the darkness as he funneled strength into them and they went to work on the back of the cameras, ”I definitely won’t be losing any sleep over this though. “

It was quiet for another moment before Tarin spoke, and when he did, his voice was grave, ”They’re done with the cameras. Maybe we can find something to help them too….”

The woman said she could show them where the photos and documents were hid, and that the man had not returned to claim the documents. Perhaps he had not wanted to risk it and knew the police could not find it.

That settled Tarin sent the ghosts off to handle the security cameras, it seemed Tarin could manifest ghosts into tangible beings. He apologized in case the Ranger had thought it waxed on dramatic. "No, it's fine. Not every day you see ghosts though."

After a short while Tarin announced the cameras had been taken care of. "Other than killing the sick bastard who did this to them, what else is there?" The Ranger posed the question before turning to head to the building. According to the ghost there were no police around so he needn't worry about concealment and just hurry there before any decided to come round.

A block and a half at a swift walk was not a long trip in the least and so he was soon there. The door was chained with only a simple padlock blocking them so he took out his rake and tension set and went to work. He slid in the tension tool, forcing the lock to turn applying pressure on the pins. From there he slid in a rake and felt the pins individually to find the loosest. That found he pressed it in and applied more pressure on the tension tool so it would catch and stay up. He repeated the process until all four pins had been locked up and it unlocked. "There we are." He removed the lock and the chain before opening the doors and stepping in.

Again, Michael took everything in stride, Tarin had to laugh at the other man’s comment though, ”It is if you’re me.” he said simply, and they move on with their lives.

The Medium shrugged as Michael asked him what else there was that they could do to help the spirits, ”Make sure that their families know what happened to them. Not directly, of course, but maybe there’s something we can do to tip the right people off.” Tarin had learned the hard way what direct interference in murder cases led to. Jail cells. That was the last thing he needed with his newly rescued wife at home and a baby on the way. Surely though, there was something.

Tarin followed the taller man, mimicking the swift walk that Michael had adopted as they approached the storage facility. The lock seemed to present little to no trouble for his cohort and Tarin watched for security that he knew wasn’t there. Soon enough the door was open and into the building the pair went.

It was strange, the way this warehouse was set up, with large storage containers stacked up inside an even larger warehouse type building. Through those containers they wove, Tarin halting them every now and then so the spirits could move ahead and disable cameras. The women were eager to help, and soon enough with guides and directions they found themselves standing before a scene still wrapped in police tape.

” Holy Christ.” Tarin said, staring at the manufactured home that had been set up in the middle of the warehouse…it even had a little turf lawn and a white picket fence.

”The door is unlocked.” the spirit said, and Tarin swallowed hard. He was going to do this…Lee had toughed it out for weeks…for her…and for all the other women, Tarin could tough things out.

”Lead the way. We need that book.”

When both of them were in the Ranger closed the doors behind them. The inside of the warehouse was filled with large storage containers. By aimlessly roaming the area they would have eventually found where Tarin's wife had been held, but dealing with unknown cameras before they left would have been a pain. Therefore the ghosts led the way and disabled any cameras that they would have otherwise moved into the sight of.

Before long they came upon what looked like a house, wrapped up in police tape. It was there that the women had been held and all but the one died. The Ranger could tell by Tarin's comment and that this was not easy for him. Not that it should be, his wife was held here for a long, long time. The Ranger on the other hand was much more detached and therefore behaved like it was any other place people had died. Go in, get information, leave, put lead in someones skull.

The ghost announced that the building was unlocked and Tarin instructed her to lead the way. The Ranger fished in a pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves. He threw them at Tarin before sliding out another for himself.

"Bad idea t' leave prints on an active crime scene."