2014.01.24: Turfwar Part 6

Turfwar Part 6
Lana receives a little assistance from Tamara with her interrogation.
IC Date	2014.01.24
IC Time	8:22 P.M
Players	Lana, Tamara and Beckett as ST.
Location	Abandoned Warehouse, Prospect CA.
Prp/Tp	Turfwar
Spheres	Mortal, Mortal+

The abandoned warehouse rests on the outskirts of the industrial park, and seems completely dilapidated at first sight. The windows are broken and boarded over, the tall metal sliding-doors are rusted. The perimeter fence has holes in it, and barbwire across the top is missing in numerous sections. To see it all under the dim glow of old streetlights at this hour might be unnerving to some. Still, Beckett called Tamara's number and asked her here. Why? Who the fuck knows. He was cryptic at best over the phone.

Lana's car is parked inside the open fence, near the rusted warehouse doors. Beckett is leaning against it, puffing on a long, fat cigar. He glance upward anytime headlights pass, waiting patiently. Lana may or may not be visible. She's probably in a bad mood since Beckett had to take a short trip to LA, even though he got back a day early - he was still gone which left her with some serious scheduling problems to be sure.

Lana comes out from inside in a huff. "So what is your friend supposed to be able to do that we couldn't do on our own?" Lana demands. "I'm getting sick of having to watch this guy."

Beckett curls a finger around his cigar, and smoke drifts slowly like fog from his open mouth. He shifts to stare at Lana standing in the doorway, at the red faced likely even in the dim light. “I know detective. I apologize again for the ‘family emergency’ I had to deal with.” He slides the cigar back between his teeth and takes a deep draw, throwing his head back and puffing the billowing smoke into the air. He’s about to explain when headlights flash. He motions towards the incoming car. “And here she is.” Beck moves to greet Tamara, throwing her a wave as she gets out. “Tamara Cruz, Lana Glover,” he notes motioning between the women.

Lana tips her head up slightly in greeting. "First time I've heard her name, but we've met before. I am even more confused as to what you think a nurse brings to an interrogation."

Tamara nods back at Lana, recognizing her. "Guessing that you healed up alright?" she asks, then a brow goes up at the comment, "Interrogation?"

“Lana and I have a guest inside,” Beck says motioning towards the warehouse, “That likely has some information we wouldn’t mind hearing.” He rolls his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, the pulls it out and puffs a cloud of smoke into the air. “I hoped you might be able to do something to help us.”

Lana rolls her eyes, but keeps her undoubtedly negative opinion to herself. Instead, she runs her fingers over her hair to vent some frustration.

Tamara looks a little skeptical, herself. She says, "Well, I'm not good or bad cop, but I can see what I can do." she shrugs, "Lead on, then."

“You have to excuse Lana. She isn’t a believer,” Beckett says to Tamara as he flicks the ash from his cigar. Hazel eyes resting on the detective for a moment before turning back to the nurse. “We have a few items that belong to him. Maybe once you know a few things about him…” He shrugs, then slips the cigar back into his mouth. “Maybe then we can exploit a weak spot.”

Lana's eyes narrow. "Not a believer?" she asks, though she doesn't wait for an answer. "It was bad enough when you convinced me to let you take on a car with a sword, but if she's a psychic or medium or some other kind of nut job..."

Tamara sighs and says, "Take your pick." she looks at Beckett and nods. "I can see what I can figure out, first. Never hurts to do a little Intel before we start the interrogation." she's officially past the point of caring who knows. "Where would be a relatively safe place to sit for this?"

Beck gives Lana a glare. He shakes his head, somewhat annoyed by her small mindedness. After a moment, he tosses his cigar away and walks back over to her car, where and eyes her as he slides the cell phone from his pocket and places it on her hood. “Try not to be a skeptic for a second, and just watch.” He turns around to Tamara, and motions towards the phone. “It’s his. Pick it up.” He lifts a hand, to stop her in her tracks. “From there.” It’s time Lana hand her cherry popped.

Lana folds her arms across her chest, doing her best to look as grumpy and disinterested as possible. "Fine show me your little parlor trick. It won't change anything."

Tamara stands where she is, shooting a worried look toward Lana. She doesn't seem sure this is a good idea. But, time to go 'all in', it seems. She takes a look at the phone, reaching out a hand and seeming to simply...focus. The phone, too far away for this to be done with 'mirrors' or wires, shakes where it is, then jerks and flies right into her hand.

Beckett cants his head to rest his eyes on Lana, not at all surprised that Tamara was able to retrieve the phone without touching it. “Should I ask her to lift you next? Or is the Sword, and the phone enough to convince you that small mindedness has no place among the company you keep?”

Lana jaw visibly drops. She'd expected at most a minor shake or something else contrived. "But that’s ... it's not ... "she stammers, shaking her head in disbelief. Tamara looks at the cell-phone, which raises an inch into the air, turns slowly, then drops. "It's not what?" looking back at Lana. She explains with a hint of a grin at Beckett, "I've been practicing."

The Professor offers the nurse a pleased smile. He’s feeling a little better about Darcy taking Tamara with her rather than him when he goes to collect what she needs for this powerful spell she’s been talking about. “So you have,” he says before looking towards Lana again. He lifts a brow, somewhat smug (which is rare for him) before turning back to Tamara. “Can you see what you can get from the phone?”

Lana holds her head in one hand like she's suddenly developed a very bad headache. Her other hand waves Tamara off to get her to stop twirling phone. "Fine, I believe you. Stop breaking science."

Tamara shakes her head as she looks at Beckett. "I can't.. not anything, I'm afraid." sighing.

The Professor purses his lips in a frown, mulling over the options. After a second he looks at Lana again, and shrugs his shoulders. “Apparently we’re going to break science a few more times unless you don’t think Tamara floating him to a ceiling a back will get him talking?”

Lana looks up from that a little concerned, but shaking it off. "If it's necessary. I'd have thought a psychic would be more about fortunate telling and mind reading and less about inventive intimidation techniques."

Tamara says, "Well...it kind of depends on the psychic, I guess. Me? That and, well.." she looks at Beckett, "The ghost thing.."

Beckett smirks, lifting an eyebrow at Lana’s comment. “We,”… that’s right Beck is owning what he is too, “Usually are. Unfortunately asking him nicely didn’t work.” He glances back to Tamara, and tisks her with a finger wave – though he’s still smirking. “One thing at a time. No reason to horrify Lana all at once. We can address the Ghost later.” He motions both ladies towards the entrance to the warehouse. “Shall we?”

Lana rubs at the bridge of her nose at the ghost comment. "Yes please," she replies, eager for anything that changes the subject from ghosts. "It would be nice to finally get this over with."

Tamara nods, 'Let's go, then." she says, glad to have her little...ability be of use.

Beckett slides the door partially open so both women can pass, then a follows. The interior is dark and open. The only light seems to be from a single automotive lamp stand near the center. There, in a wooden chair is a young Asian man bound and gagged. He a little battered and bruised, but otherwise okay. Beckett walks closer, and says something in Japanese before the pulls the gag off. Then he switches to English. “Kenji here speaks English fluently.” He points at Lana, “Now you’re going to answer her questions or,” he moves his hand to indicate Tamara, “Or she going to make you very uncomfortable.” Kenji eyes both women, then slits on the floor.

Lana approaches the man so that she can tower over him as she questions him. "Let's start from the top. I am looking for your boss. I didn't like the way our last meeting went."

Tamara settles against the wall, arms folded. She's just hear for..persuasion. So she just waits and watches.

Beckett backs off and lets the detective do her thing. Kenji seems unimpressed. He spits again, this time nearly hitting Lana’s shoe. He lifts his eyes to meet her gaze, and he frowns. “Why, bitch? You in heat?” Oh, yes he did!

Lana chuckles, offering a faint smirk at the man's attempt at bravado. "Now normally I'd take great pleasure in making you my bitch, but today I don't have to get my hands covered in whatever horrid filth you yakuza spawn from. Today she gets to make," Lana tells him, tipping her head toward Tamara and hoping the girl can perform on command.

Kenji doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on at first. He just watches Tamara, following her with his eye as best he can before turning his head to catch sight of her again. “What the fuck are you doing,” he growls at her, and then much to his dismay the chair begins to lift. Beckett raises an eyebrow – although more because Lana didn’t knock out a few of the guys teeth rather than Tamara’s command over her psychic abilities. “What!...” Kenji jerks around, but the ropes are tight. He still doesn’t get what’s happening. He’s actually looking for the ropes.

Lana watches the man's growing distress with amusement. "As you can see my friend has a rather interesting trick. Do you want to answer my questions now, so that she puts you down? If not, well, maybe she'll take you for a spin."

Tamara keeps the man slowly raising, higher and higher. With a turn of her finger, the infamous 'sit and spin' gesture, in fact, the chair does a slow rotation. "I don't know if I can keep this up." in a calm, amused voice. "Hate for him to just...drop."

Kenji gives a fearful howl, and completely freaks out. Apparently his introduction to the unexplainable doesn’t go as well and Lana’s did. “STOP!” He screams it a few times before the chair starts to spin, however once it does the color drains from his face. The next thing to hit the floor is vomit. Beckett wrinkles his nose, but remains otherwise quiet.

Lana holds up a hand to get Tamara to halt the spinning for a moment. "Well, are you ready to talk? If not, I'll just have my friend spin you around until she finally decides to drop you."

Tamara stills the chair, glancing at Lana. "Well, I was thinking for my next trick...maybe flip him upside down. Wonder how well he's belted into that chair?"

Kenji’s obviously sick enough. All honor aside, he’d rather not get flipped upside down. “I’ll talk,” he groans to Lana. “Just make that demon woman leave me alone!” His almond shaped eyes shift to Tamara, and narrow fearfully. “Which boss do you wanna know about?”

Lana grins. "That's good to know. He was introduced as Nobunaga-san, by a man going by the name Smith. We'll start with those two, then see what other useful information you might have rattling around in that thick skull of yours."

Tamara keeps the man up, just making sure he stays cooperative.

“I answer to Smith. We all answer to Smith. He answer to Nobunaga-san,” Kenji groans. She’s going right for the top apparently. Going to definitely get him killed. He hangs his head, woozy again but at least not spinning any longer. “Nobunaga-san has returned to LA.”

Lana nods. "Why did he go back to LA? If he's gone, that leaves Smith in charge here. Where can I find him?"

Tamara lets Lana handle the questions, though she's obviously interested in the answers.

“Nobunaga-san Saiko-Komon for the Yamaguchi-gumi family. He doesn’t need to be here to control things. That’s why he has Smith. But I don’t know where he is right now,” Kenji replies before hanging his head again.

Lana sighs heavily. "Well that is unfortunate. You clearly aren't really ready to answer questions, which means that my friend has to get back to toying with you until you give me some information I can use to find Smith."

Tamara raises her hand, glancing at the man, "Does this mean I get to turn him upside down?" she lifts him a bit more, turning the chair just a /hair/ to one side...

“I know where he will be! I know where he will be,” Kenji admits rather worriedly. “He’s meeting with a high level member of the Surenos gang to broker their drawback from what territory the Yamaguchi-gumi family now claim.” He shakes his head, knowing he’s about to sign his death warrant. “They came to an agreement. Heroin for property. The deal goes down in a couple days.”

Lana puts on a false smile. "That's good. Now all you need to do is give me the place and time. The sooner you do that and the sooner my friend can return you safely to the ground."

Tamara nods, "Safely...I am getting a little tired." making her hand (and the chair) seem to shake a little.

“I don’t know all the details. Exacts haven’t been set yet! All I know for sure is the Heroin comes in by bus in two days. A Greyhound from LA to Tijuana. The bus stops, they check the cargo, and the deal is done,” Kenji says. “I swear that’s all I know.”

Lana shrugs and gestures for Tamara to let the man down. "Fine, put him down. We'll keep him here until then, and if it doesn't pan out ... well I'll leave that to his imagination."

Tamara nods and lets the chair slowly, gracefully float down. Well, until about half a foot above the ground, and then she lets it drop, with a thud. Not high enough to damage, just to make noise and a good jolt.

Kenji gives Tamara a sharp cry! He lands safe enough though. Beckett steps forwards, glancing between the women. “Shall we talk privately?” He motions towards the doors again, before walking over to slide one open.

Lana starts to walk toward the door as indicated by Beckett, but stops and snaps her fingers. "I almost forgot," she says as she turns around, winds up and slams her fist against the man's face with her whole body behind it. There's a loud crack followed by the chair tipping over to drop the man on the floor. She shakes her hand and turns back toward Beckett. "If I had done that first, he wouldn't have been able to talk," she remarks to Beckett with a grin, walking toward the door.

Tamara has to nod, it's true after all. She turns to walk with Beckett and Lana to have a little chat.

Beckett lifts a brow after watching the scene unfold. “I suppose I should be pleased you’ve learned a little patients,” he says rather sarcastically. Poor Kenji’s had a rough few days. He closes the door behind both women, then looks to Tamara. “Thank you for the help Tamara. I doubt he’d have cracked without some form of supernatural pressure.” Then to Lana, he asks, “What’s your plan?”

Lana shrugs. "Not sure yet. Could probably make a claim that I received an anonymous tip and get the Force to act on it. There's no guarantee that they'll catch Smith there, though, especially if they have someone to tip them off. I think we might have to just stake it out and hope that we can follow Smith back to where they are operating from. Unless you want to try that fancy sword stuff out against bullets."

Tamara raises her hands, "I don't know if anything I do can work against bullets. Well, at least BEFORE getting shot."

“Bullets don’t bother me as much as the fools holding the guns do,” Beckett replies. “I could ask Darcy to summon something to follow Smith around. She’d need something that belonged to him. I’m betting his image would work.” Just so happens Kenji has a photo icon for the man on his phone. “However if you want to scoop up Yakuza and these Surenos guys all at once – I’m not seeing the four of us doing it.” He glances at his watch, and shakes his head. “It’s late. You two grab some sleep. I take the overnight watch with Mr. informative. We have a day to hash out the details.”

Lana nods. "It will be nice to have you finally take a guard duty." She offers the two a slightly wave as a goodbye and turns to walk toward her car.

Tamara nods and sighs, "Well, if you need me again, I'll probably be either in that dive I call an apartment or at the hospital." she chuckles. "Hate damned drug dealers."