: Night Runner : --LAMS--

1

"Hey dude keep your voice down! Coding requires a lot of time and a consistent lowering of your volume would be much appreciated!"
Alex was shouting at his roommate, Lafayette. The Frenchman was getting rather frustrated at the car he was working on to earn a few bucks. The dude was a mechanic, and had recently been given a car to work on that was... In absolutely terrible condition.
Suddenly, a wrench was thrown on the floor, followed by a loud "this is fucking stupid Hamilton, I swear I'm gonna blow this car up myself."
Alexander sighed and rubbed his temple. "You can't do that. One, that's not your car to blow up, two, that would cause a consistent amount of damage to the car, and three, we need the money."
You see, Alexander was an orphan. An extremely intelligent orphan, but still an orphan. He had been broke most of his life, and it seemed like at 26 life was not giving him the slightest bit of remorse.

He was stuck in a rusty old garage, not a penny in his pocket, and not a job in sight. He had the intelligence to get one, but nobody was willing to employ him due to his current status.
And Lafayette? Well, they're both geniuses. They have extremely high IQs and almost superhuman abilities - except not quite.
Alexander could remember pages and pages of code (well anything really) and could think quickly in situations with improvisations and tactics that weren't normal.
Lafayette could tell what the exact material, size and strength of something by applying physics and engineering to it.

Almost superhuman, but not quite.

"I know we need the money mon ami, that's why I'm doing this." Lafayette said, bending down to pick up his wrench and discarding it on his workbench, before lazily making his way over to Alexander's desk - the small man was bent over his laptop, typing out his 112th page of code in an attempt to figure out how to hack WiFi boxes as they could no longer afford to pay for theirs.
"Don't touch me, do you know how many chemicals are in oil? Go and wash your hands you freak." Alex mumbled as Laf reached over to grab Alex's coffee cup and drinking what was left.
"Grow up you big baby." He said, before wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and throwing the paper cup in the trash. "We have a problem anyways."
Alex leaned back in his chair and looked at the dishevelled Frenchman. "What kind of problem? Severity?"
"Eh, medium."
"Well what is it?"
"I don't have the right tools to fix the engine, and we can't afford to buy more. And the dude expects his car fixed by tomorrow."
"For fuck sake." Alex groaned and rubbed his temple.

They had this problem every time a car needed to be fixed - they were too damn poor to get the right tools.
"Okay, what can you do?"
"Not much, désolé Alex." He apologised.
Alexander sighed. "It's not your fault."

The exchange between the two of them were interrupted by a loud banging on the garage door, followed by a loud "police, open up!"
The men looked at each other in fear. They had done so much illegal activity over the past few weeks it was almost impossible to pick a single reason why the police were here.

Alex went to the garage door and leaned against it. "Badge of authentication please?"
A badge was slipped under the door. It was real all right.
Laf gave a short nod and Alex lifted up the door, allowing the extreme sunlight to blast in.

A bald man was stood there, a pistol in his holster and a serious look on his face. Behind him was a chocolate-skinned woman with long dark curls and an equally serious look on her face.
Lafayette moved to stand near Alex.
"Alexander Hamilton?" The woman asked.
"That's me."
"Marquis De Lafayette?"
"Oui."
"We need to speak to you. May we come in?"
Alex stepped aside to let the officers in, looking at Laf in fear.

"I am Agent George Washington, and this is my assistant head officer, Angelica Scyhuler."
"Pleasure to meet you." Laf said, nodding respectfully.
"May we ask why you're here?" Alex asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Angelica cleared her throat. "We heard you two are geniuses, and we need all the help we can get, so we've resorted to you."
"Help with what? My calculations of this situation aren't adding up." Alexander said, moving a strand of hair out of his face. "You need us, to help the police?"
"Not the police." Washington said gruffly. "The CIA."
"Whoa hey, hey." Laf said quickly earning a dirty look from Angelica. "Were just regular members of the public. How could we possibly help?"