Arthur "Artie" Nielsen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doyousmellfudge_archive) wrote2010-04-04 09:38 am
doyousmellfudge_archive) wrote2010-04-04 09:38 am
Resonance, part 2
"I'm rankled." Artie scowls at Myka's face on the Farnsworth. "Okay? I'm officially rankled. You had to go and call Dickinson to get access?!"
"Don't take it personally."
"It's entirely professional. I'm just saying that you could've come to me and I could have got you whatever information that you need." Truth be told, Artie's only giving half his attention to the conversation. The rest is focused on the world map board, now covered with strings and scribbled notes marking the route of the hack from earlier this morning. But, hell, it's not like he can't multitask.
"We needed access, Artie, not information."
Artie strides back to the Farnsworth so he can more effectively glare at Myka. "Let me be clear. I'm your boss now. Okay? You hit a roadblock, you call me, I remove it. Not Daniel Dickinson, me. All your old contacts are off-limits, no exceptions, Warehouse Security demands it. Understood?"
Myka is unmoved. "Yes. I got it. So can I have your attention now?"
Artie steps back. "Show it to me."
"Okay." In short order, the office's main monitor shows the surveillance footage from the most recent bank robbery, from the few minutes before the cameras had stopped working. Three figures in black walk through the doors, one of them opens their trenchcoat, and--
"Yeah okay hold it freeze--" Artie squints at the still image and the blurry spots inside the trenchcoat's lining. "W-what is inside that one's coat?"
Myka's brow furrows. "I don't know. A-a bomb or something? Something scared these people stupid, Artie."
"Well, do any of these tapes have sound?" The objects in the coat's lining almost look like speakers. Or dinner plates. Who can tell at that resolution?
"No, no, they're all silent."
"Why?"
"It's per a federal wiretap law, lest we overhear an account number not party to investigative blah blah blah." Myka doesn't sound any more pleased about this than Artie does.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright." Artie waves his hand dismissively. He understands the rationale behind these kinds of regulations, but damn do they ever make his job harder. "None of these witnesses recall any orders or demands for these robberies?"
"No. They don't recall anything. It's kind of like they have short-term memory loss or something."
"Oh, y'know, lights can do that?" Artie steps back over to the map so he can paste up another note. (He's getting close. He can feel it.) "Yeah, they can, y'know, like a strobe can do that, any kind of flashing pattern can do that..."
"Nothing's flashing, Artie," snaps Myka in irritation.
"Nonono, I'm talking about something at the edge of the visual spectrum. Something, y'know, between the video's interlaced frames." Another note goes up. "Y'know, um, I had a case once where pollen from a prehistoric plant turned a woman into a sexually rapacious sleepwalker, and she was unaware that she was doing that until she, y'know, pulled her pants off in--"
"Artie? Artie, just, be quiet."
Artie stops in mid-rant. "What?"
"Artie, there's a man on his cell phone during this entire robbery. Do you see that??"
"Oh really?" Sure enough, the man in the front of the line at the teller window has his phone open. "Well. Well, that's good. Somebody overheard what was happening in there, right?"
"An earwitness." There's a tiny smile on Myka's face, the one that says 'finally, we're getting somewhere.' "Artie, I need the other side of that phone call."
"Ve haff vays." Artie smirks. "Just get me Phone Guy's name."
Myka starts thumbing through a manila folder. "Um... I'm looking, Artie, just give me a second."
That's just fine by Artie. "I am gonna huff--" he draws a line across the Atlantic Ocean in dry-erase pen-- "and puff--" down the edge of the Eastern Seaboard-- "and blow your house down."
"Artie, I got him."
Artie allows himself another smile as he tacks a big, fat, red arrow onto the map, pointing directly at the District of Columbia. "Me too."
[Dialogue from Warehouse 13 episode 1x03, "Resonance"]
"Don't take it personally."
"It's entirely professional. I'm just saying that you could've come to me and I could have got you whatever information that you need." Truth be told, Artie's only giving half his attention to the conversation. The rest is focused on the world map board, now covered with strings and scribbled notes marking the route of the hack from earlier this morning. But, hell, it's not like he can't multitask.
"We needed access, Artie, not information."
Artie strides back to the Farnsworth so he can more effectively glare at Myka. "Let me be clear. I'm your boss now. Okay? You hit a roadblock, you call me, I remove it. Not Daniel Dickinson, me. All your old contacts are off-limits, no exceptions, Warehouse Security demands it. Understood?"
Myka is unmoved. "Yes. I got it. So can I have your attention now?"
Artie steps back. "Show it to me."
"Okay." In short order, the office's main monitor shows the surveillance footage from the most recent bank robbery, from the few minutes before the cameras had stopped working. Three figures in black walk through the doors, one of them opens their trenchcoat, and--
"Yeah okay hold it freeze--" Artie squints at the still image and the blurry spots inside the trenchcoat's lining. "W-what is inside that one's coat?"
Myka's brow furrows. "I don't know. A-a bomb or something? Something scared these people stupid, Artie."
"Well, do any of these tapes have sound?" The objects in the coat's lining almost look like speakers. Or dinner plates. Who can tell at that resolution?
"No, no, they're all silent."
"Why?"
"It's per a federal wiretap law, lest we overhear an account number not party to investigative blah blah blah." Myka doesn't sound any more pleased about this than Artie does.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright." Artie waves his hand dismissively. He understands the rationale behind these kinds of regulations, but damn do they ever make his job harder. "None of these witnesses recall any orders or demands for these robberies?"
"No. They don't recall anything. It's kind of like they have short-term memory loss or something."
"Oh, y'know, lights can do that?" Artie steps back over to the map so he can paste up another note. (He's getting close. He can feel it.) "Yeah, they can, y'know, like a strobe can do that, any kind of flashing pattern can do that..."
"Nothing's flashing, Artie," snaps Myka in irritation.
"Nonono, I'm talking about something at the edge of the visual spectrum. Something, y'know, between the video's interlaced frames." Another note goes up. "Y'know, um, I had a case once where pollen from a prehistoric plant turned a woman into a sexually rapacious sleepwalker, and she was unaware that she was doing that until she, y'know, pulled her pants off in--"
"Artie? Artie, just, be quiet."
Artie stops in mid-rant. "What?"
"Artie, there's a man on his cell phone during this entire robbery. Do you see that??"
"Oh really?" Sure enough, the man in the front of the line at the teller window has his phone open. "Well. Well, that's good. Somebody overheard what was happening in there, right?"
"An earwitness." There's a tiny smile on Myka's face, the one that says 'finally, we're getting somewhere.' "Artie, I need the other side of that phone call."
"Ve haff vays." Artie smirks. "Just get me Phone Guy's name."
Myka starts thumbing through a manila folder. "Um... I'm looking, Artie, just give me a second."
That's just fine by Artie. "I am gonna huff--" he draws a line across the Atlantic Ocean in dry-erase pen-- "and puff--" down the edge of the Eastern Seaboard-- "and blow your house down."
"Artie, I got him."
Artie allows himself another smile as he tacks a big, fat, red arrow onto the map, pointing directly at the District of Columbia. "Me too."
[Dialogue from Warehouse 13 episode 1x03, "Resonance"]