The Disappearance of Samuel Elcott [Tag: David Loki]
Jul 8, 2017 11:53:16 GMT
Post by Deleted on Jul 8, 2017 11:53:16 GMT
After Loki left Madison's apartment, she had been planning on going straight to bed. She knew that she would need her sleep before the fresh and early start the next day. What she hadn't planned on was seeing her partner to the door, clearing up the living room a little and then seeing the face of someone she knew on the news.
Reaching for the remote, Madison hit the volume button and the TV turned off the mute. The journalist was reporting from location about a ambush situation that had occurred on a supply transport headed for an American military base outside of a small town in Southern Afghanistan. Madison had never heard of the town, nor the camp but she recognised the soldier. She had been on a few training missions and a recon mission while on active duty with him. Kelly Something was his name. The news reporter flashed up the image again accompanied by the subtitle Kelly Milton and then reported that the lieutenant pictured is now currently missing.
Sighing, Madison turned the TV off with a snap and headed to get ready for bed. She hadn't known the guy that well but she could almost feel her brain setting up new neurological pathways. For the next few weeks, she would be checking every newspaper, analysing the news app on her phone and checking the TV whenever she was home for news of Kelly. The military was a family, and whether you were still a part of it or not, every soldier you remembered the face of was someone you wanted to keep safe. There was little she could do from here but keep watch and pray was something she could manage. Well, pray in the figurative sense anyway.
Stripping down to her sports bra and undies, Madison decided that it was way too hot to go in search of PJs and, instead, flopped onto her made bed, on top of the covers and fell asleep.
One of the bonuses of military training? You could sleep anywhere - you were trained and programmed to be able to catch Zs in the most unlikely of places. Madison had slept in trees, in holes in the ground - even once precariously balanced of a signal tower. A comfy bed was hardly a challenge.
One of the detractors? The night terrors could suck it.
Three hours later, Madison was shocked awake when her face hit the floor. She looked up, her hair in every direction, her throat sore from the screaming and the bed a mess of sweaty sheets that she had never been under. She could feel cold sweat sticking to her skin down her back, on her neck, between her breasts and thighs. Urgh, she felt disgusting.
She didn't even bother looking at the clock and made her way unsteadily to the bathroom. Every muscle in her body ached from the intense workout they had been doing for the last few hours and her wrist stung. Maybe she'd bashed it or something.
Swallowing against the hot tightening in her throat, Madison jumped into the shower and turned the temperature first to hot, searing off the old and sticky sweat and then to cold, shocking her fully away washing away the nightmares. She growled to herself under the spray. When were these things going to go away. She had been in the states for three years now. She didn't need the constant reminders of her past. She wanted to live for the now. To be a police officer, not a soldier. But her mind and her memories were constantly dragging her backwards. Back to that dark, dusty room she had been kept in. Back to the screams and the terror from the civilians she should have been able to protect. Back to the screams and curses she had yelled at her captors, and the sting and burn of their reciprocating torment. She shook her head and stuck it under the cold water again. She had had enough of this, damnit.
When she was finally out of the shower, washed, scrubbed and her hair cleaned, she took up her toothbrush and scrubbed the hell out of her teeth and gums. A fresh mouth was always a nice way to brush away the cobwebs.
It was only after she was fully clean, toweled and her hair blown dry into messy curly waves that Madison looked at the clock. Three in the morning. Great.
Well, she knew from experience that she wasn't getting any more sleep and that it would be pointless to try - post-night-terror was the only time it was impossible for her body switch to work, so she quickly got dressed.
She pulled on a pair of grey jeans, converse sneakers and a simple black t-shirt. She clipped her gun holster onto the band of her jeans and her badge on the other hip. She took the time to tie her hair back into a french braid and then cleaned her entire apartment. She checked the clock again.
Three-thirty. For fucks sake.
Instead of wasting any more time, Madison grabbed her laptop and started doing some digging. After a few quick searches and a call to a very confused early-delivery guy, just signing into shift, Madison had the information she needed. The butchers next to the Elcott house received their early morning deliveries at four o'clock each morning. Which meant that there would be someone at the premises.
Madison did her routine handgun check (which she'd already done when first putting it on, but better safe than sorry) and then grabbed her navy blue ball cap that read POLICE across the front. She plonked her aviators in place to hide the deep, dark smudges beneath her eyes (there was no way she was forcing her eyes to tolerate make up today) and ran for the door.
She grabbed her keys on the way and stuck them in the front pocket of her jeans, her cell which she scooped up from the coffee table when into a back one. Upon reaching the door, she patted herself down to make sure she had everything and then hefted the two boxes of files she and David had brought back to hers the night before and headed down to her car.
Three minutes later and she was behind the wheel of her truck, the boxes secured in back with a seat belt and she was headed for Barrett's Quality Choice Butchers. And the sun wasn't even up yet. Take that, sun!
When Madison pulled up at the appropriate place, she could see a delivery truck just pulling in to make his drop off. A spotty teen of about sixteen was coming out of a side door in the very alley Madison was interested in, when she pulled her car up beside the delivery truck. She hopped out, made sure it was locked and the files in her back seat were covered by the blanket she kept back there, and then headed up to the kid.
"Morning." She called to get his attention. She watched the kid frown at her in confusion, glance at her gun, then her hat, then her gun again and swallow. She smiled to try and put him at ease. "Don't worry, I'm not here to made a weed bust or anything." The kid laughed uncomfortably as she approached and she quickened her step to make it less of a drawn out worry for him.
"My name is Detective Ellingham, I'm with the Chicago 21st Precinct." She held up her badge. "I need to request some footage from one of your cameras. I'm sorry to ask this but could you get your boss on the phone for me and get him to come down and hand them over?"
"Um..." The kid stumbled, glancing between her and the guy waiting by his truck. Clearly the delivery man was not one to be kept waiting and the boy was feeling his allegiances torn. "I could get them for you, when I'm done here?"
Madison smiled.
"That's real sweet of you..." She looked expectant but then realised half the expression's persuasive quality would be lost behind the sunglasses.
"Brendan." The boy answered anyway. "Brendan Lane."
"Well, Brendan Lane." Madison said, her hands going to her hips. "Like I said, that's real sweet of you but hears the thing. I'm on a tight deadline and if you were to give me the footage, it would be a breach of procedure because I don't have a warrant for it. And warrant is going to take time I don't have. So I need your manager to give me the footage because then it's voluntary provision and I don't get my butt chewed on, you know?" She grinned at him in camaraderie. "I'm really sorry to make you do this. I know he's gonna give you an earful, but I'd be really appreciative." She glanced at the delivery truck. "I'll even help you unload while you make the call for me?" She offered.
Forty-five minutes later and Madison was leaving Barrett's Quality Choice Butchers after unloading three whole pigs - seriously, on hooks and everything! - speaking with an irate Mr. Gavin Barrett who was still in his pajama pants when he had arrived, and with DVD surveillance footage in hand. The footage went back three weeks prior to the disappearance of Samuel Elcott and she had already gotten Mr. Barrett's signature on the paperwork required to take it without a warrant and made clear notes in my officer's pad about everything that had happened since getting out of her truck.
That ladies and gentleman in Precinct 15 is how you do paperwork, she thought with a self-important huff.
By the time she arrived at the station, it was now approaching five o'clock. The morning shift was far away enough that there were no officers in yet, but the graveyard shift was definitely winding down. The atmosphere in the place was calm and quite, with just a few drunks in the tank keeping up the chatter.
Carting the boxes of files, plus the DVDs balanced on top, Madison headed straight to the main desk and dumped everything on the floor for a moment.
"Jerry." She said to make the guy look up. Solitaire was kicking his butt though, she noticed, so he was happy to give her his full attention. "As soon as we 8:30 can you send two uniforms to this address for me -" She copied down the address of the Elcotts. "And bring back a Mr. Steven Elcott and a Mrs. Judy Elcott. It's the parents of the disappearance we're investigating. They need to come in today regardless of excuses."
"You got it, Detective." Jerry answered, putting the note in a prominent place so that he could call it over dispatch at the appropriate time.
She had picked up the boxes and turned towards the detectives area when she paused for a second and looked back over her shoulder at Jerry.
"Is 8:30 a reasonable time to have police knocking on your door?" She checked.
"Is any?" He quipped back.
"Yeah but... if you're supposed to be coming in voluntarily." She explained.
Jerry shrugged.
"Depends how you want them. You want them cherry and comfy, I'd go for 10. You want them rattled and 8:30's fine."
Madison smiled an evil grin.
"8:30's spot on then." Because hell, she was determined to be getting some answers today one way or the other.
When she reached her desk, Madison dropped the boxes to the floor and shoved them underneath, in the way of the chair. Which was fine, because she rarely sat at her desk anyway - it was more something to stand next to when reading or pace next to when thinking. The DVDs she put on it, an elastic band holding them together. She popped a sticky note on the pile reading "Barrett's Butchers Surveillance" and the appropriate dates - she liked keeping herself in order and knew that her partner liked the same, and then she headed for the vending machines.
Sticking the few quarters she had in her back pocket into the drinks machine and selecting the most intense energy drink the machine supplied - something that had lime green zigzags all over it - Madison suppressed a yawn with the back of her hand as she waited for the can to drop down. She had a feeling it was gonna be a long day.
David Loki
Reaching for the remote, Madison hit the volume button and the TV turned off the mute. The journalist was reporting from location about a ambush situation that had occurred on a supply transport headed for an American military base outside of a small town in Southern Afghanistan. Madison had never heard of the town, nor the camp but she recognised the soldier. She had been on a few training missions and a recon mission while on active duty with him. Kelly Something was his name. The news reporter flashed up the image again accompanied by the subtitle Kelly Milton and then reported that the lieutenant pictured is now currently missing.
Sighing, Madison turned the TV off with a snap and headed to get ready for bed. She hadn't known the guy that well but she could almost feel her brain setting up new neurological pathways. For the next few weeks, she would be checking every newspaper, analysing the news app on her phone and checking the TV whenever she was home for news of Kelly. The military was a family, and whether you were still a part of it or not, every soldier you remembered the face of was someone you wanted to keep safe. There was little she could do from here but keep watch and pray was something she could manage. Well, pray in the figurative sense anyway.
Stripping down to her sports bra and undies, Madison decided that it was way too hot to go in search of PJs and, instead, flopped onto her made bed, on top of the covers and fell asleep.
One of the bonuses of military training? You could sleep anywhere - you were trained and programmed to be able to catch Zs in the most unlikely of places. Madison had slept in trees, in holes in the ground - even once precariously balanced of a signal tower. A comfy bed was hardly a challenge.
One of the detractors? The night terrors could suck it.
Three hours later, Madison was shocked awake when her face hit the floor. She looked up, her hair in every direction, her throat sore from the screaming and the bed a mess of sweaty sheets that she had never been under. She could feel cold sweat sticking to her skin down her back, on her neck, between her breasts and thighs. Urgh, she felt disgusting.
She didn't even bother looking at the clock and made her way unsteadily to the bathroom. Every muscle in her body ached from the intense workout they had been doing for the last few hours and her wrist stung. Maybe she'd bashed it or something.
Swallowing against the hot tightening in her throat, Madison jumped into the shower and turned the temperature first to hot, searing off the old and sticky sweat and then to cold, shocking her fully away washing away the nightmares. She growled to herself under the spray. When were these things going to go away. She had been in the states for three years now. She didn't need the constant reminders of her past. She wanted to live for the now. To be a police officer, not a soldier. But her mind and her memories were constantly dragging her backwards. Back to that dark, dusty room she had been kept in. Back to the screams and the terror from the civilians she should have been able to protect. Back to the screams and curses she had yelled at her captors, and the sting and burn of their reciprocating torment. She shook her head and stuck it under the cold water again. She had had enough of this, damnit.
When she was finally out of the shower, washed, scrubbed and her hair cleaned, she took up her toothbrush and scrubbed the hell out of her teeth and gums. A fresh mouth was always a nice way to brush away the cobwebs.
It was only after she was fully clean, toweled and her hair blown dry into messy curly waves that Madison looked at the clock. Three in the morning. Great.
Well, she knew from experience that she wasn't getting any more sleep and that it would be pointless to try - post-night-terror was the only time it was impossible for her body switch to work, so she quickly got dressed.
She pulled on a pair of grey jeans, converse sneakers and a simple black t-shirt. She clipped her gun holster onto the band of her jeans and her badge on the other hip. She took the time to tie her hair back into a french braid and then cleaned her entire apartment. She checked the clock again.
Three-thirty. For fucks sake.
Instead of wasting any more time, Madison grabbed her laptop and started doing some digging. After a few quick searches and a call to a very confused early-delivery guy, just signing into shift, Madison had the information she needed. The butchers next to the Elcott house received their early morning deliveries at four o'clock each morning. Which meant that there would be someone at the premises.
Madison did her routine handgun check (which she'd already done when first putting it on, but better safe than sorry) and then grabbed her navy blue ball cap that read POLICE across the front. She plonked her aviators in place to hide the deep, dark smudges beneath her eyes (there was no way she was forcing her eyes to tolerate make up today) and ran for the door.
She grabbed her keys on the way and stuck them in the front pocket of her jeans, her cell which she scooped up from the coffee table when into a back one. Upon reaching the door, she patted herself down to make sure she had everything and then hefted the two boxes of files she and David had brought back to hers the night before and headed down to her car.
Three minutes later and she was behind the wheel of her truck, the boxes secured in back with a seat belt and she was headed for Barrett's Quality Choice Butchers. And the sun wasn't even up yet. Take that, sun!
When Madison pulled up at the appropriate place, she could see a delivery truck just pulling in to make his drop off. A spotty teen of about sixteen was coming out of a side door in the very alley Madison was interested in, when she pulled her car up beside the delivery truck. She hopped out, made sure it was locked and the files in her back seat were covered by the blanket she kept back there, and then headed up to the kid.
"Morning." She called to get his attention. She watched the kid frown at her in confusion, glance at her gun, then her hat, then her gun again and swallow. She smiled to try and put him at ease. "Don't worry, I'm not here to made a weed bust or anything." The kid laughed uncomfortably as she approached and she quickened her step to make it less of a drawn out worry for him.
"My name is Detective Ellingham, I'm with the Chicago 21st Precinct." She held up her badge. "I need to request some footage from one of your cameras. I'm sorry to ask this but could you get your boss on the phone for me and get him to come down and hand them over?"
"Um..." The kid stumbled, glancing between her and the guy waiting by his truck. Clearly the delivery man was not one to be kept waiting and the boy was feeling his allegiances torn. "I could get them for you, when I'm done here?"
Madison smiled.
"That's real sweet of you..." She looked expectant but then realised half the expression's persuasive quality would be lost behind the sunglasses.
"Brendan." The boy answered anyway. "Brendan Lane."
"Well, Brendan Lane." Madison said, her hands going to her hips. "Like I said, that's real sweet of you but hears the thing. I'm on a tight deadline and if you were to give me the footage, it would be a breach of procedure because I don't have a warrant for it. And warrant is going to take time I don't have. So I need your manager to give me the footage because then it's voluntary provision and I don't get my butt chewed on, you know?" She grinned at him in camaraderie. "I'm really sorry to make you do this. I know he's gonna give you an earful, but I'd be really appreciative." She glanced at the delivery truck. "I'll even help you unload while you make the call for me?" She offered.
Forty-five minutes later and Madison was leaving Barrett's Quality Choice Butchers after unloading three whole pigs - seriously, on hooks and everything! - speaking with an irate Mr. Gavin Barrett who was still in his pajama pants when he had arrived, and with DVD surveillance footage in hand. The footage went back three weeks prior to the disappearance of Samuel Elcott and she had already gotten Mr. Barrett's signature on the paperwork required to take it without a warrant and made clear notes in my officer's pad about everything that had happened since getting out of her truck.
That ladies and gentleman in Precinct 15 is how you do paperwork, she thought with a self-important huff.
By the time she arrived at the station, it was now approaching five o'clock. The morning shift was far away enough that there were no officers in yet, but the graveyard shift was definitely winding down. The atmosphere in the place was calm and quite, with just a few drunks in the tank keeping up the chatter.
Carting the boxes of files, plus the DVDs balanced on top, Madison headed straight to the main desk and dumped everything on the floor for a moment.
"Jerry." She said to make the guy look up. Solitaire was kicking his butt though, she noticed, so he was happy to give her his full attention. "As soon as we 8:30 can you send two uniforms to this address for me -" She copied down the address of the Elcotts. "And bring back a Mr. Steven Elcott and a Mrs. Judy Elcott. It's the parents of the disappearance we're investigating. They need to come in today regardless of excuses."
"You got it, Detective." Jerry answered, putting the note in a prominent place so that he could call it over dispatch at the appropriate time.
She had picked up the boxes and turned towards the detectives area when she paused for a second and looked back over her shoulder at Jerry.
"Is 8:30 a reasonable time to have police knocking on your door?" She checked.
"Is any?" He quipped back.
"Yeah but... if you're supposed to be coming in voluntarily." She explained.
Jerry shrugged.
"Depends how you want them. You want them cherry and comfy, I'd go for 10. You want them rattled and 8:30's fine."
Madison smiled an evil grin.
"8:30's spot on then." Because hell, she was determined to be getting some answers today one way or the other.
When she reached her desk, Madison dropped the boxes to the floor and shoved them underneath, in the way of the chair. Which was fine, because she rarely sat at her desk anyway - it was more something to stand next to when reading or pace next to when thinking. The DVDs she put on it, an elastic band holding them together. She popped a sticky note on the pile reading "Barrett's Butchers Surveillance" and the appropriate dates - she liked keeping herself in order and knew that her partner liked the same, and then she headed for the vending machines.
Sticking the few quarters she had in her back pocket into the drinks machine and selecting the most intense energy drink the machine supplied - something that had lime green zigzags all over it - Madison suppressed a yawn with the back of her hand as she waited for the can to drop down. She had a feeling it was gonna be a long day.
David Loki
