The night watch of the Naraal house and haunts were very quite. Quiet enough
to get some sleep once the lights went out on the Naraal home.
The next morning saw some activity- Tyrus was a relatively early riser as
career military types are. At 0600 he was outside by the front door stretching
for a morning run.
Ryan watched the Bajoran as he stepped out of his house. Ryan himself was
already up and dressed, having done so when he saw the first sign of activity
within the Naraal house.
Naraal Tyrus took a good run at an aggressive pace. Today was looking to be a
shorter, but more intense run. The streets were empty at this hour, which
allows Tyrus to push his pace running in the street. The path that he took was
similar to the path that Ryan had taken the evening before, except it took him
to the lake. Here is stopped and seemed to admire the view and the solitude.
His face seemed pained. Something was bothering him, or at least weighing
heavy on his thoughts. On the way back to his parents home, something
happened. Tyrus ran through the market, just as he did on the way out. Only
this time, the market was starting to stir with activity. One of the grocers
was talking to a pair of muscled men who did not look happy.
Ryan frowned. This did not look good. He slid his Sig inside his waistband
and then used the tactical insertion to beam into the neighborhood. Less than
a minute later he was walking toward the market, looking like any other
tourist, his head on a swivel, taking everything in.
As Ryan got closer, he noticed something about the grocer. He had been in a
few of the pictures that Gariabldi sent over documenting the comings and goings
of Tyrus. To his displeasure, Tyrus was making his way right over to the group.
"Hey, Sal!", called Tyrus as he approached the trio, slowing as he neared.
"Are you open yet? I'd like to get some fruit for breakfast."
"Hey... Um, I'm not open yet. Come back in an hour.", answered a nervous
grocer.
"But I'm here now, Sal."
As Ryan watched he most definitely got the feeling that Tyrus was about to get
into trouble...
Ryan looked at the two men with the grocer and let his cortical chip scan them
to run their faces through Starfleet's facial recognition database.
Facial recognition was not helpful. They were not in the database. One, the
bigger of the two, was Ramesar. The smaller was Bajoran. The Ramesar was
tall, in incredible shape. He had a put together, squared away look that led
Ryan to believe he was elite military. Or at least was up until recently. He
did not have the smooth edges of an operator or a merc that was in the business
for very long. The Bajoran... was just a local thug for hire.
He moved slowly toward Mr. Naraal, keeping his eye on the grocer and the two
men with him, while trying to not look like he was keeping his eye on them.
"Looks like your grocer friend isn't worried about paying his bills," Ryan said
lightly, with an amused smile. "Patrick Ryan," he said, offering his hand to
Naraal. "I was just out on my morning run and noticed you running, too. Are
you done, or were you planning on running more? If you are, would you mind if
I tagged along? I don't know this area well and I'd hate to get lost."
"I would love to. Running with company is always better than running alone.
However, my friend Sal, sells the best fruit and would be great to end our run
with. It won't take but a minute to get the fruit, after these fellas bug off."
Naraal was focused on Ryan, and did not see the Ramesar tense up or the Bajoran
put his right hand into his vest.
{response}
