She wanted to smack the smug smile of the little prick's face, but she was a little afraid he might see that as a come-on. Besides, she had been doing this kind of thing, intelligence gathering, investigation, and above all psychological warfare. You had to make your opponent underestimate you, misunderstand you, even forget you.
So if she thought she was meant to just be a tag-a-long, then that was fine. By the time they got to Terre Haute he wouldn't even remember that she had been there.
She climbed into the back of the lab tech truck, with the rest of the lab geeks. With their help she familiarized herself with the contents of the truck, telling them meanwhile that the nature of the explosion hadn't been known, but it was suspected to be chemical in nature. A cute, but nervous looking little redhead with freckles, who looked just old enough to have graduated freshman high school put her fist to her mouth.
"Then in addition to the normal protocols, and non-contamination gear, we're supposed to wear masks and eye protection," she quavered. Rachele thought she could see the hint of a retainer as she spoke.
'Oh really? Gee, I hadn't realized that,' snarked her inner sarcasm machine. But outwardly she looked concerned. "Is it really that bad?"
One of the other techs, a balding middle aged man, who was far more calm about this news, said, "I would even go further till we've ruled out things like Serin gas. That stuff will kill you slow and painful. I'm thinking full charcoal filter masks, with a secondary air source. No reason to take unnecessary risks"
Inside her soul, Rachele beamed. Sometimes people were so easy to lead.
The full non-con outfit consisted of a yellow jumpsuit made of some kind of disposable material that was designed not to leave behind any fibers, white booties to prevent their shoes from leaving behind any kind of traces, and a cap, almost like a hairnet, except made to prevent the investigator's hair from getting into the crime scene. To this they added a baby-blue and black mouthpiece with a rubber seal around the mouth and nose, on which one side connected to a small tank carried at the hip, and the other was open, but with a charcoal air filter twisted into it, to draw out any toxins in the air.
When they finally got to the crime scene, the techs started unloading equipment. One of them, while awkwardly carrying three metal cases slammed almost straight into "Special" Agent Albertson. The impact sent her sprawling on the ground. He, on the other hand, looked unruffled, just annoyed.
"Are you okay?" she asked earnestly, though muffled through the mask. "Omigosh, are you okay? I didn't get any on you did I?" she started looking him over to make sure he was okay.
"What? No, get off me! Didn't get WHAT on me? Why are you dressed like that?"
She seemed taken aback, and raised a fist to put to her mouth, but realized the gas mask was in the way. "You didn't hear?" she said, taking his arm. "We heard that the site might be either radioactive, or might have noxious chemicals. Y-y-you should really be wearing masks." Her eyes were on him, earnest, but obscured by the safety glasses.
He pulled his arm free. "What? No, no, local law enforcement has been here for ages now and nothing's haened to them at all."
She looked alarmed and gasped at this and said, in a hushed conspiritorial tones. "Better keep an eye on them sir, in case they start to exibit symptoms." He rolled his eyes, but then started looking around the scene at the local cops with a suspicious air.
She picked up the cases again, carried them to the storage unit, then went back to the truck and pulled the headgear off, revealing her dirty blonde hair, and enigmatic black eyes, and looked down to where she had palmed his folded black leather badge holder, and smiled mischievously.
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