Life gets better

Hunting

"Holy gods, I'm stupid."

Sighing as you sip from your coffee, you look out the front windscreen at the bright lights of the convenience store.

"I thought it would be easy to find some trace of the Fang, but they really cover their tracks. I had a lead, some old guy saying he saw masked Faunus in the back of a parked van a couple towns back, and headed this way."

With some hesitation, you continue writing.

"But nothing yet. I asked the service station clerk, but he said he'd call the police if he saw anything. So, fuck all. And the clock is ticking."

You look up as a pickup truck pulls into the car park, and watch as a person in a concealed hooded jacket gets out and walks into the store.

"Blake's counting on me. The Fang are monsters, and they're more than well known for torturing their prisoners."

*Knock knock knock*

You jump, looking at the window. The hooded person is there, their face turned away. Immediately, your hand grabs at the pistol in your belt.

John- Can I help you?!

They look around, then turn to you, an obnoxious grin plastering her face.

Tintin- Johnny boy! Open up, it's cold as balls out 'ere!

You sigh, unlocking your doors and letting her hop in with a shiver.

John- Gods, Tinny. You scared the fuck outta me. What the hell are you even doing out here?

TIntin- Fuck, ain't it obvious? Nixie told me you're huntin' the Fang. Fuck letting you go it alone.

John- Tinny, these aren't just some petty criminals. And they're not dumb fucks like Abe. They're terrorists.

Tintin- I know that! But you need help! C'mon, lemme help, Johnny!

She grabs your sleeve, shaking it.

Tintin- I can shoot, I can throw a solid punch, and I can shut up if you need me to! C'mon, I can be good!

Relenting, you nod with a defeated sigh.

John- Fuck me, fine. Just let me take the lead if we find them, got it? I've got aura, I'll be able to take a few hits.

Tintin- Sah yes sah, commandah Johnny.

She gives a mock salute, which you grumble at.

Tintin- So, any luck?

John- Eh. Had a lead, but it's gone cold. I just don't know where the fuck to start.

Tintin- You tried using a radio scanner?

John- A what?

Tintin- We use 'em all the time to listen for distress calls from the fishers. They scan through radio channels suuuuper fast, then stop if they find one bein' used.

John- Would that work for local signals? Things like police radios?

Tintin- You fucking bet. I've got one in my truck.

John- 'Kay, let's get over to it.

Hopping out and locking your car, you walk over to her pickup truck and hop up into the passenger seat. She puts in her key, turning the car on and bringing the radio to life.

Tintin- Right, let's see here...

She presses a few buttons on the scanner, and it begins fizzling with different pitches as the display shows numbers relating to different radio channels.