Light My Fire

 305.

The guests of the Buccaneer huddle in small groups in the parking lot. Numbering over a hundred, they appear to have responded to a come as you are party in the affirmative. I stand behind The Queen as she deftly moves the control stick along with the facial recognition application to find our targets. As she maneuvers the device I notice a ping and a red circle occur on a number of individuals as she scans the assembly.

"What does the ping and circle represent?" I inquire, not wanting to break the focus but curious nonetheless.

"I added a function that, once recognition is confirmed, automatically displays anyone with a rap sheet that includes, a felony conviction, a parole violation or inclusion on the FBI most wanted list," she informs me without a hint of ego.

"It looks like a convention of cons down there."

"Yeah, I'm surprised by the ratio as well, but unless you want a full fledged law enforcement circus to open, I suggest we leave them to their business for now and find Goldson and Hartaugh," she suggests turning the stick radically left and zooming in on a small group standing under the light of a halogen lamp post.

"Ah ha, looks like we've found 'em," she says.

"Do we have audio to go with this?" I ask.

"Not very good, the hardware requirement is still too big and bulky to add a mic with the capabilities to capture decent audio, but I am working on it in my spare time."

We watch as the four, Goldson, his body guard, looking sheepish and nervous, Hartaugh and Sharkey stand in a circle. I find it noteworthy that they all seem more upset that they share a single cell phone among them than the fact that their room on the floor in the hotel is on fire.

We watch as Goldson preforms a self-frisk maneuver, almost manic in his search for something important, that is lost. He tells his guard something. The guard makes the futile gesture of  'I don't know".

"Get the camera in as close as you can," Mustang suddenly shouts. The Queen gives her a glance and provides the request, the camera resolution lessening as a result, but still of medium to high quality. "Keep it on those two," she says indicating the mob boss and his goon.

"What is so interesting with them?" The Queen asks.

"They are discussing their next move, now that the contract documentation is missing," Mustang reports.

"And you know this exactly how?" The Queen asks.

"Speechreading is the technique of decoding speech information by visually interpreting the movements of lips, the face and tongue when normal sound is unavailable. I am pretty good at it." She states. "Like right now Goldson is asking, ah commanding, his guard to go back into the fire and rescue the laptop in his room."

"Come on baby light my fire," The Queen sings.

"Try to set the night on fire," I add, scanning the hall monitor of the floor above us and seeing nary a flame nor sign of smoke.

I stuff one arm into an official FBI windbreaker and hustle towards the door.

"Let me know if they move."