Portland Vice
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A man and a woman sat together within a pizza shop, a medium Hawaiian with a single slice eaten rested on the table between them. The former was young and gangly, a pair of thick glasses clinging to a crooked nose. The latter was short and tan, a streak of electric blue ran through otherwise raven hair.

"People are starting to talk," she said softly. "They are noticing the couriers I hire aren't coming back. I can maybe do one, maybe two runs before I just won't have the manpower anymore. We had a good run, but let's face it, we're not getting any more Seance Dust out of Three Ports."

"Our mutual friend has enough supply to last for the time being," he replied. "We just need one more run and that should cover it. You should know by now that money is not an object here. If you need to increase the rates, do so."

"Not even the greediest idiot is going to sign up for an obvious suicide mission." She snorted and shook her head. "Until you find a way around the skippers, you're not getting another gram short of picking it up in Britain."

The man paused. A smile crept onto his lips.

"Don't suppose you know anyone willing to do a little wetwork do you?" he asked. "As I said before, money is no object."

"Are fucking serious?" she hissed under her breath, looking over her shoulder. "You want to put a contract out on skippers? Are you insane?"

He shrugged.

"I can tell you exactly where they'll be, and what they can do," he said with a grin. "Like shooting fish in a barrel."


Series Overview:

MTF Tau-51 ("Urban Brawl") has been on the trail of an anomalous narcotics manufacturer operating out of Three Portlands for months. Every time a new bust is made, all the leads miraculously prove to be dead ends, with their target always one step ahead of them. With little help from the Unusual Incidents Unit, MTF Commander Damian Creed and Thaumatologist Beatrice Ross take matters into their own hands, only to find the trail leads close to home. Join us for a highly bingeable mystery, Those Twisted Pines style.


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