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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years

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"Don't spy on a privacy lab" (and other career advice for university provosts)

This is a wild and hopeful story: grad students at Northeastern successfully pushed back against invasive digital surveillance in their workplace, through solidarity, fearlessness, and the bright light of publicity. It’s a tale of hand-to-hand, victorious combat with the “shitty technology adoption curve.”

What’s the “shitty tech adoption curve?” It’s the process by which oppressive technologies are normalized and spread. If you want to do something awful with tech — say, spy on people with a camera 24/7 — you need to start with the people who have the least social capital, the people whose objections are easily silenced or overridden.

That’s why all our worst technologies are first imposed on refugees -> prisoners -> kids -> mental patients -> poor people, etc. Then, these technologies climb the privilege gradient: blue collar workers -> white collar workers -> everyone. Following this pathway lets shitty tech peddlers knock the rough edges off their wares, inuring us all to their shock and offense.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

20 years ago, if you ate dinner under the unblinking eye of a CCTV, it was because you were housed in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you were unwise enough to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars for “home automation” from Google, Apple, Amazon or another “luxury surveillance” vendor.

Northeastern’s Interdisciplinary Science and Engineering Complex (ISEC) is home to the “Cybersecurity and Privacy Institute,” where grad students study the harms of surveillance and the means by which they may be reversed. If there’s one group of people who are prepared to stand athwart the shitty tech adoption curve, it is the CPI grad students.

Which makes it genuinely baffling that Northeastern’s Senior Vice Provost for Research decided to install under-desk heat sensors throughout ISEC, overnight, without notice or consultation. The provost signed the paperwork that brought the privacy institute into being.

Students throughout ISEC were alarmed by this move, but especially students on the sixth floor, home to the Privacy Institute. When they demanded an explanation, they were told that the university was conducting a study on “desk usage.” This rang hollow: students at the Privacy Institute have assigned desks, and they badge into each room when they enter it.

As Privacy Institute PhD candidate Max von Hippel wrote, “Reader, we have assigned desks, and we use a key-card to get into the room, so, they already know how and when we use our desks.”

https://twitter.com/maxvonhippel/status/1578048837746204672

So why was the university suddenly so interested in gathering fine-grained data on desk usage? I asked von Hippel and he told me: “They are proposing that grad students share desks, taking turns with a scheduling web-app, so administrators can take over some of the space currently used by grad students. Because as you know, research always works best when you have to schedule your thinking time.”

That’s von Hippel’s theory, and I’m going to go with it, because the provost didn’t offer a better one in the flurry of memos and “listening sessions” that took place after the ISEC students arrived at work one morning to discover sensors under their desks.

This is documented in often hilarious detail in von Hippel’s thread on the scandal, in which the university administrators commit a series of unforced errors and the grad students run circles around them, in a comedy of errors straight out of “Animal House.”

https://twitter.com/maxvonhippel/status/1578048652215431168

After the sensors were discovered, the students wrote to the administrators demanding their removal, on the grounds that there was no scientific purpose for them, that they intimidated students, that they were unnecessary, and that the university had failed to follow its own rules and ask the Institutional Review Board (IRB) to review the move as a human-subjects experiment.

The letter was delivered to the provost, who offered “an impromptu listening session” in which he alienated students by saying that if they trusted the university to “give” them a degree, they should trust it to surveil them. The students bristled at this characterization, noting that students deliver research (and grant money) to “make it tick.”

[Image ID: Sensors arrayed around a kitchen table at ISEC]

The students, believing the provost was not taking them seriously, unilaterally removed all the sensors, and stuck them to their kitchen table, annotating and decorating them with Sharpie. This prompted a second, scheduled “listening session” with the provost, but this session, while open to all students, was only announced to their professors (“Beware of the leopard”).

The students got wind of this, printed up fliers and made sure everyone knew about it. The meeting was packed. The provost explained to students that he didn’t need IRB approval for his sensors because they weren’t “monitoring people.” A student countered, what was being monitored, “if not people?” The provost replied that he was monitoring “heat sources.”

https://github.com/maxvonhippel/isec-sensors-scandal/blob/main/Oct_6_2022_Luzzi_town_hall.pdf

Remember, these are grad students. They asked the obvious question: which heat sources are under desks, if not humans (von Hippel: “rats or kangaroos?”). The provost fumbled for a while (“a service animal or something”) before admitting, “I guess, yeah, it’s a human.”

Having yielded the point, the provost pivoted, insisting that there was no privacy interest in the data, because “no individual data goes back to the server.” But these aren’t just grad students — they’re grad students who specialize in digital privacy. Few people on earth are better equipped to understand re-identification and de-aggregation attacks.

[Image ID: A window with a phrase written in marker, ‘We are not doing science here’ -Luzzi.]

A student told the provost, “This doesn’t matter. You are monitoring us, and collecting data for science.” The provost shot back, “we are not doing science here.” This ill-considered remark turned into an on-campus meme. I’m sure it was just blurted in the heat of the moment, but wow, was that the wrong thing to tell a bunch of angry scientists.

From the transcript, it’s clear that this is where the provost lost the crowd. He accused the students of “feeling emotion” and explaining that the data would be used for “different kinds of research. We want to see how students move around the lab.”

Now, as it happens, ISEC has an IoT lab where they take these kinds of measurements. When they do those experiments, students are required to go through IRB, get informed consent, all the stuff that the provost had bypassed. When this is pointed out, the provost says that they had been given an IRB waiver by the university’s Human Research Protection Program (HRPP).

Now a prof gets in on the action, asking, pointedly: “Is the only reason it doesn’t fall under IRB is that the data will not be published?” A student followed up by asking how the university could justify blowing $50,000 on surveillance gear when that money would have paid for a whole grad student stipend with money left over.

The provost’s answers veer into the surreal here. He points out that if he had to hire someone to monitor the students’ use of their desks, it would cost more than $50k, implying that the bill for the sensors represents a cost-savings. A student replies with the obvious rejoinder — just don’t monitor desk usage, then.

Finally, the provost started to hint at the underlying rationale for the sensors, discussing the cost of the facility to the university and dangling the possibility of improving utilization of “research assets.” A student replies, “If you want to understand how research is done, don’t piss off everyone in this building.”

Now that they have at least a vague explanation for what research question the provost is trying to answer, the students tear into his study design, explaining why he won’t learn what he’s hoping to learn. It’s really quite a good experimental design critique — these are good students! Within a few volleys, they’re pointing out how these sensors could be used to stalk researchers and put them in physical danger.

The provost turns the session over to an outside expert via a buggy Zoom connection that didn’t work. Finally, a student asks whether it’s possible that this meeting could lead to them having a desk without a sensor under it. The provost points out that their desk currently doesn’t have a sensor (remember, the students ripped them out). The student says, “I assume you’ll put one back.”

[Image ID: A ‘public art piece’ in the ISEC lobby — a table covered in sensors spelling out ‘NO!,’ surrounded by Sharpie annotations decrying the program.]

They run out of time and the meeting breaks up. Following this, the students arrange the sensors into a “public art piece” in the lobby — a table covered in sensors spelling out “NO!,” surrounded by Sharpie annotations decrying the program.

Meanwhile, students are still furious. It’s not just that the sensors are invasive, nor that they are scientifically incoherent, nor that they cost more than a year’s salary — they also emit lots of RF noise that interferes with the students’ own research. The discussion spills onto Reddit:

https://www.reddit.com/r/NEU/comments/xx7d7p/northeastern_graduate_students_privacy_is_being/

Yesterday, the provost capitulated, circulating a memo saying they would pull “all the desk occupancy sensors from the building,” due to “concerns voiced by a population of graduate students.”

https://twitter.com/maxvonhippel/status/1578101964960776192

The shitty technology adoption curve is relentless, but you can’t skip a step! Jumping straight to grad students (in a privacy lab) without first normalizing them by sticking them on the desks of poor kids in underfunded schools (perhaps after first laying off a computer science teacher to free up the budget!) was a huge tactical error.

A more tactically sound version of this is currently unfolding at CMU Computer Science, where grad students have found their offices bugged with sensors that detect movement and collect sound:

https://twitter.com/davidthewid/status/1387909329710366721

The CMU administration has wisely blamed the presence of these devices on the need to discipline low-waged cleaning staff by checking whether they’re really vacuuming the offices.

https://twitter.com/davidthewid/status/1387426812972646403

While it’s easier to put cleaners under digital surveillance than computer scientists, trying to do both at once is definitely a boss-level challenge. You might run into a scholar like David Gray Widder, who, observing that “this seems like algorithmic management of lowly paid employees to me,” unplugged the sensor in his office.

https://twitter.com/davidthewid/status/1387909329710366721

This is the kind of full-stack Luddism this present moment needs. These researchers aren’t opposed to sensors — they’re challenging the social relations of sensors, who gets sensed and who does the sensing.

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

[Image ID: A flier inviting ISEC grad students to attend an unadvertised 'listening session' with the vice-provost. It is surmounted with a sensor that has been removed from beneath a desk and annotated in Sharpie to read: 'If found by David Luzzi suck it.']

#pluralistic

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blizzardfluffykpop · 1 month

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Scaredy-cats

Summary: Trying to branch out of your comfort zone, you try a haunted house installation in the middle of March.

Oneshot

Fluff, Meet-Cute, Non-idol au

Trigger Warnings: It is a haunted house, so it has light/minor horror themes.

Word Count: 2,056

Jacob X Reader

[A/n: As @jinkoh said; we watched Wings of Escape together and well, here’s another addition of that brainrot we experienced there. To check out jinkoh’s addition(s) to it you can find ‘em on kebbi’s blog 🥰]

------

This year, you were determined to try things outside of your comfort zone. So when they announced a haunted house installation in March at an old youth hostel near you, you were all for it because “It’s just a haunted house. How bad can it be?” You were confident that it definitely couldn’t be spooky because it was becoming spring, daffodils were starting to bloom, and the outside ambiance would make for a non-scary experience. But what you underestimated was that it still was a haunted house. It wasn’t the outside that mattered. It was the actors and ambiance inside that did.

---Pov Switch---

Jacob had applied for countless jobs and finally heard back on a security job. He was getting desperate, and anything would do for rent money at this point. So when he walked in, he wasn’t sure what the position entirely entailed until the person said, "You're aware this is for a security position watching live CCTV footage at a haunted house?" He nearly threw up, but considering it was also his last option, and that he was running low on funds, he could do it, right? "Yeah, that's fine." He should have never agreed to this. Although, he’s met all the scarers and has been friends with them long before this installation began. He still refuses to enter the ‘scarer floor’ after they decorated it, or he’d feel his stomach tie in knots.

Even driving to work made his stomach turn. His guts twist every time he puts his car in park. All he ever wants to do when he walks up to the building is turn ducktail and run to his car. But that’s money on the line he can’t risk. He goes down the basement steps, unlocks the door, and gets inside, quickly turning on the lights and locking it behind him. He sighed in relief before checking everything over, inspecting all the cameras to see if they were working correctly. Before turning his two-way radio on and going, “Good afternoon!” He hears ten friendly voices greet him back. And he asks, “Anyone on the floor? Or are you all getting ready?” Getting various answers of; “Getting ready.” “Waiting.” “Snacking.” He laughs, “Any good snacks?” “Gummies, you want some?” “Hell yeah.” A few minutes later, a knock rings through the door. He peeks through the peephole and sees Kevin, “You’re not in costume. That’s nice.” “Don’t need you sick.” He puts out his hand, “Gummies?” Kevin hands him the pack, and he asks, “Everyone’s doing the same routine as usual, right?” Kevin nods, “Yeah, as always. Hopefully, no dates go awry this time.” Jacob laughs, “It was cute to see Younghoon take them around, though. It was much more pleasant to watch than your gorey scenes~.” Kevin rolls his eyes, “All I do is chop jello.” Which makes Jacob shiver, “It doesn’t read the same on the CCTV. It really looks like guts.” Kevin shakes his head at him, “Later?” He nods, “Yeah, later.”

He eats his gummies, looking over the main control panel as the ‘night’ starts at the hotel. “Overhead lights off in 3… 2… 1… Stage lights on!” There are little cheers before they get into character, and he refuses to look up, only listening to his two-way radio and hearing the random songs Haknyeon performs every time Haknyeon turns on his radio, “Spooky scary plumbers~” Which makes Jacob tune in and cackle over the radio. He looks at his designated camera and sees him singing his heart out into the plunger. Jacob shakes his head and carries on playing on his phone. He looks up occasionally, assuring no one is actually getting murdered there. And he laughs as he watches a couple cowering behind Younghoon as if that would help their case. Younghoon, as if on cue, turns around with a sinister grin, effectively spooking them. Which makes his nerves stand on end at the motion. He shakes it off and goes back to his phone.

And that’s how he spends the majority of his shift until he hears a door slam over the two-way radio someone’s turned on. He looks up to see Juyeon and Younghoon staring at it curiously. When Juyeon goes over the two-way, “Jacob… Uh… Someone just ran right into the utility closet and locked the door. We can’t help them out. I think Younghoon terrified them too much.” Younghoon scoffs, “I did not!” Juyeon continues, “Sure. Anyways, you’re the only one who has keys…” Jacob couldn’t believe his ears. This was the first time the crew didn’t have the situation under control. And of course, because he refused to do a floor check when the decorations were finally up, a door was left unlocked.

With haste, he looks at his keys and the panel before deciding to go and get you. And with nerves shooting through him, he goes over the two-way, “You all go to our assigned rooms and stay in there!” Eric calls back, “Where do you want me to go!?” “The other side of the building- I don’t care!” He throws the door open after flipping the overhead lights on and rushes into the building as he searches for the correct key. He refuses to look ahead, only down at the floor, “Fuck! Why are there so many fake mice!” He rushes to the room you’ve locked yourself in, and unlocks it. He tries to push it open as he calls out, “Hey!” Inside the closet he hears you yell back, “Leave me alone!” “I’m not a scare actor!” He hears your mumbles, but you still don’t budge from the door. He sighs, “Please come on... This building scares me so much. I want to be out of here just as much as you do.” You ask softly, “You promise me you’re not wearing scary clothes?” “Promise. I’m wearing a jean jacket with flowers on it if that helps.” You sigh, “Pinky swear?” “Pinky swear.”

---Pov Switch---

You hesitantly lift your weight off the door, and he carefully pushes the door in. You cover your eyes with your hands and peek out of them to see his blue jean jacket with pretty painted flowers on it like he said. No blood in sight. And you whisper, “I don’t… I don’t think I can move.” He gulps, “You want to stay here for a minute with me?” You nod, and he walks in and leans against the door. He mutters, “I hate working here.” Thinking he meant because he had to save scaredy-cats like you, you apologize, “Oh, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “Oh, that’s not what I meant!” He looks at you and says, “It’s not your fault! I just get scared easily and like, uh… It’s just not good for a person who doesn’t stomach this well.” You giggle at him and go, “Really? Then why are you working here?” He sighs, “It was my last option left. No one else would hire me.” You shake your head, “Is it good money?” “Not in comparison to being scared shitless every day at work.” You look at him confused, “Why don’t you quit?” “Until I find something else, it makes due. Plus, I've known my coworkers since high school, so it makes it easier.” You shake your head, “Well if it makes due and they’re genuinely nice guys outside of work. I understand.” He nods before asking, “Are you okay to go back out there?” “You can get us through? No scares?” “Yeah, promise, they’re all away.” You hear his two-way radio scratch, “I’m getting bored!!” He rolls his eyes, “Eric, our gardener… He’s a little excitable when it comes to scares. So we better move before he decides to be a meanie.” You agree and he calls back, “We’ll be out in three, no funny business.” “That’s my job, though…” “Eric…” “Fine.” He laughs as he opens the door and looks down.

You follow suit gulping as you exit the doorway with him to see the fake mice, snakes, and spiders on the ground, “Can um… Can you hold my hand?” He nods, waiting for you with his hand out. You quickly grab it and cling to his side. “Not that far, right?” “No, but look down. Mice and snakes are somehow easier to stomach compared to the rest.” You let out an, “Uh-huh.” But your curiosity gets the best of you. You look up and see the amber lights illuminating the spiders and spiderwebs above along with the netting with fake limbs entangled in it dangling down at you. You let out a small, “Yikes!” He laughs, “Told you not to look up.” And you quickly look down with him. Every time the building creaks, you shiver, and he does too. When you see the bottom of the curtain, he says, “Here’s our exit.” He moves the curtain, and the sunlight greets you as he opens the door. You nearly kiss the ground as you mutter countless thank yous.

You don’t let go of his hand even though you’ve made it out. Feeling a sense of comfort with his hand in yours before you ask, “Um… is there any way I can stay with you for a bit until I get my nerve back up to drive?” He nods, “Yeah, that’s fine. I just need to go back to my security room.” “Is it okay if I go with you?” “Yeah.” He leads you along the side of the building and down the stairs. He unlocks the door and leads you in before calling on the two-way radio, “Back to business.” He flicks the overheads off, and you watch as everyone exits their rooms on the cameras. He gestures for you to sit in the spinny chair, “I’m gonna grab the chair from over there.” He points to the corner and lets go of your hand before getting it. He joins you, his knee touching yours under his desk. You watch the CCTV roll, seeing all of the scares live at once, making you feel sick to your stomach again. And he goes, “I wouldn’t watch that if I were you.” You gulp and nod before looking down at your shoes.

He distracts you from it by asking, “So what scared you so bad you ran to the first open door?” “Uh… It sounds silly.” He laughs, “I’m just as much of a scaredy cat as you, so it’s not silly. I promise.” “So uh, the one with the doll face? Yeah… So he was stitching that Frankenstein or something together. And it freaked me out… And when the butler-dude turned away from me to show me to the next room. I made my break for it, thinking it was the exit…” He laughs, and you pout, “I thought you promised it wouldn’t sound silly….” He shakes his hand, trying to hold his laughter back, “No, it’s funny, 'cause I would have done the same thing.” You grin and end up laughing with him. You stay with him his whole shift as he tells you a little about each actor to ease your nerves. “And the doll guy?” “He's a good dancer. But he loves what the two of us would consider scary dolls.” “Oh.” “Yeah, and he calls them cute.” You laugh, “Of course he does. What about you: any weird hobbies?” He shrugs, “Well, it’s not weird, but I like to play guitar and sing.” You smile, “That sounds lovely.” He smiles, “Maybe I could play for you sometime?” You ask, “There’ll be a next time?” “I uh… well, I’d hope so. You seem fun.” You laugh, “You just watched me get trapped in a haunted utility closet.” He laughs, “Yeah, I did.” “But I’d like to hear you play sometime soon.”

You exchange numbers before he turns the overhead lights on and the stage lights off as all the actors head to the basement to change back into their casual attire. You start to leave since you and Jacob already had plans to meet again sometime soon. You figured it was best to get going while the going was good. Until he asks, “Since we both had a scary experience, what do you say to getting some ice cream with me?” You grin, waiting for him to join you, “I’d love to.”

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blarplesnoot · 2 months

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Towards the end of last year, my wife and I put up a bird feeder outside our bedroom window. We wanted to participate in Project FeederWatch as well as just see the cute birdies. It took until early February before birds actually discovered it and started coming to our feeder to snack, and soon enough we had a regular ensemble of local New England birds, including Black Capped Chickadees, Downy Woodpeckers, and the above pictured White-Breasted Nuthatch.

Eventually we even installed some little CCTV cameras so we can watch them in the morning from bed, and eventually hope to live stream them to YouTube.

Unfortunately we had to take it down about a week ago, due to a finch showing signs of House Finch Eye Disease. Luckily the finches moved on and we were able to put it back up (while carefully monitoring and after a thorough cleaning!)

Today I had some free time so I brought up my 300mm lens to take some super close up pictures of the birds as they snacked. Both are uncropped vertically. Mostly just playing around so nothing special.

#photography #bird photography #birds #nature #birding #bird feeder

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talesmaniac89 · 1 year

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Charity Heist 4 - aka. The Arm Candy Conundrum

A Supernatural Heist AU - Masterlist

Pairing: Hitter!Dean x Thief!Reader

Summary: The Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency is the best group of con artists in the world. But even though Y/N can crack safes, scale buildings and infiltrate even the most secure locations, she still can't find a way to deal with her all consuming feelings for the group's greek god of a hitter; Dean Winchester. How will she handle their next big heist, when she's forced to get up close and personal with the man of her dreams?

Warnings: Idiots in love, smutty thoughts, a lot of swearing and a ton of bad jokes.

Watch the trailer here

A/N: This story is 50% jokes and 50% dirty thoughts. No deep angst, just fun and action! Inspired by the series Leverage.

Y/N = Your Name | Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour

Start Here - Last - Next

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a setting for ice cubes on your shower head.

So, you made a mental note to yourself to ask Charlie for one and settled for plain old cold water to wash away the sweat and dirty thoughts. Which was still plenty cold in the underground bunker. Leaving you shivering as you quickly towel dried your hair and pulled on your most comfortable sweats.

Smoothing down your still wet and tangled hair, in an effort to tame it at least a little, you hurried down the long hallway of the bunker and into Charlie’s tech dungeon in room 28. Your Network Operations Center, or as you liked to call it ‘Brainiac HQ’, was the true heart of your operation. Littered with files, screens and enough high tech systems to make NASA jealous; it was what nerdy dreams were made of.

Or at least Charlie’s dreams, and your heists.

This was where your very own resident wonder child hacked her way into databases, followed along on cameras and made all your fake identities believable. Though, calling it only Char’s was slightly wrong. Since Sammy spent most of his time there as well. Both of the team’s two teacher’s pets had their own areas in the operations room. With a separate space set up to accommodate the rest of your band of merry men when you were needed for in-depth planning and pre-con briefing past Bobby’s introductory preamble.

You didn’t get your own desks. Since Dean, yourself and… Well, you couldn’t be fully certain about Cas, but none of you seemed like the teacher’s pet type.

Hell, you’d never even gone to school, and you definitely didn’t play well with authority figures. You pictured yourself as a little more class clown than star pupil. Unless of course that teacher was Dean, and you were indulging in some more… Scholastic fantasies alone in your room at night.

Then you’d be a really good girl.

This time, every screen was filled with multiple angles of the same overly bourgeois house. The whole place screamed old money in new hands, with its mix of good taste and trashy attempts at ‘modernizing’ it. Clearly Charlie and Sam had been hard at work while you were working out, or at least attempting to work out, with Dean. That was definitely the CCTV of the mafia boss’ home. Or at least the ground floor of it.

Luckily, that was exactly where the party would be happening. And, according to your man on the inside, the ground floor also housed the safe you were after.

“Right, so now that we’re all here,” Sam cleared his throat, a tried and tested bitch glare in place as he looked over your shoulder to where Dean was slowly sauntering into the room, a shiteating grin plastered on his face. His hair was damp and messy, and he’d changed into a new pair of black jeans and a very fitting AC/DC t-shirt to match his cover’s name. Clearly, if the slight flush to the skin on his neck was anything to go by, he hadn’t followed your example of keeping the shower short and cold.

He looked hot, in more ways than one.

“We’ve managed to hack into the CCTV already installed in the house. There’s only cameras on the ground floor, and only in strategic locations, at least from what’s tied to the CCTV setup. But we can use that to our advantage,” Sam said, dropping down into one of the chairs next to the literal wall of screens, as you moved to lean against Charlie’s desk. Careful to hide your small smile when Dean leaned against the desk next to you.

“You’ll need to memorize the blind spots. We want to be caught on camera as little as physically possible. We’ll erase what they have and loop the minutes before and after over it, but just in case they spot us swiping cards or scoping the place live on the night, it’s better if we keep out of the cameras’ line of sight,” He continued, nodding towards the screens just as Charlie’s fingers danced across her keyboard to focus in on one of the rooms.

“From the intel we have, the host likes to show off his wealth, so he'd be unlikely to limit the party space to just a few rooms. But this is probably where most of the people will be mingling,” Charlie shot in, nodding towards the large living room, littered with art pieces and small couches pushed against every wall. By the looks of it, they could fit a damned rock concert in there if they wanted to.

“But…”

Charlie cut off her own words as she furiously typed in a command on the computer. Splitting the view into multiple screens again, before refocusing the central screens on another room, much smaller, yet no less overly bougie.

“This is the space we’re clocking as the most likely location for the safe,” Sam jumped right back in. The two of them worked together like the geekiest tag team the world had ever seen. If they were wrestlers, their stage names would be in binary.

“Other than the clearly forged Rembrandt, I can’t see anything that stands out from this angle, but I wasn’t expecting to either,” You mused, eyes locked on the screen in front of you and all business, even as your body reacted to the slight brush of Dean’s arm against yours next to you.

“Bobby’s inside man wasn’t really forthcoming with all the details. He said the safe was in the house, and on the ground floor based on what he knew, but that’s it. We’ll need to scout for it when we’re there and confirm its location,” Sam nodded, hazel eyes focused on the screen for only a second before he turned in his chair to take in the rest of you.

Each member of your little team was tense in anticipation and focused on the end goal now that you could see the finish line on the screens in front of you.

These guys were going down.

“We don’t have enough details to plan for extraction yet. So on the night of the party we’ll have to; find the safe, plot the exit points and get an eye on the guards, plus whatever weapons they’re packing. That’s on top of Cas rubbing shoulders with the worst of ‘em in case we need the turnabout strategy and getting our hands on as many IDs as possible,” Sam was counting off each point on his fingers as Charlie continued to work her magic across the screen, bringing up new images over the still running video feeds.

Yeah, you had your work cut out for you…

And that was only the main plan. You knew there’d be extra little goodies to keep an eye out for as well. There always was. And as Sam fished out yet another pile of folders, you knew you were about to hear all about them…

Yay….

Fucking folders.

---

“We still haven’t managed to get hold of the full guest list, but I got snippets through some other, less secure, databases where some of the guests where a little too talkative about their invitations,” Charlie spoke up. Taking over again once Sam finished running through a laundry list of weapon types to look out for, people of interest that could be possible targets if they were there. As well as wiretap and camera placements that could help you collect more intel in the time between the party and the heist.

With a quick tap of her index finger, the screen changed, pulling up a few very familiar faces, with some new ones thrown into the mix. You could feel the mood in the room sour as your shoulders tensed. Next to you, Dean’s body shifted, as if readying for a fight, as some of the most evil sons of bitches you knew popped up on the screen. If you hadn’t been sure that the party was a cover before, you sure as hell were now. With what was basically a who’s who of the biggest bastards the world knew littering the screens.

Luckily none of your own former enemies from previous cons were up there… You were just too good at your job for any of those bastards to still be walking free. These guys however… These were the ones you’d yet to get enough on to warrant a heist. A slippery bunch. Each and every one of ‘em.

Including one of the slimiest men you knew...

“Dick Roman…” You muttered under your breath, (Y/E/C) eyes locked with the dead, nearly black eyes of the billionaire businessman and all around bad guy. Roman was a man all of you knew, hell… Most people did. As the owner of Roman Enterprises and one of the fifty most powerful men in America he was pretty much a household name.

What most people didn’t know was that he was also big on biowarfare. One of the main players in the invention and sale of gasses, viruses and other forms of microscopic lethality. You’d yet to get a lead that allowed you to take him down, but you were itching to get the chance to.

Especially Charlie, who’d once upon a time worked as a whitehat hacker for one of the bastard’s more legal businesses. The guy was scum… No… That was unfair to scum. He was like sludge sticking to the bottom of your sneaker. Black, viscous and annoyingly persistent.

“Of course that dick’s gonna be there. We’ll have to play it carefully. He’s evil, but he ain’t stupid. If he makes any of us, he’s sure to make our lives a living hell,” Dean groaned next to you, one big hand going up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shivered at the thought of the slimy bastard.

“And he’s not the only one…” Charlie’s voice was trembling slightly as she looked at the image of a smartly dressed man next to Roman’s headshot. Jacob Styne… The Styne family was another big player in the American criminal underworld. Clearly this party was set to be filled with the worst of the worst.

The Stynes were, on the surface, a political family. With Jacob Styne being a front runner for future governor. Under the surface however, the Styne family didn’t make their money campaigning. Instead it came from generations in the organ trade.

Politics cost an arm and a leg after all…

The Styne family just chose to have others pay the entry fee for them.

Unfortunately, they were currently untouchable. The many generations of Stynes had built safety nets upon safety nets around themselves. Including some untraceable accounts and a boat load of identities. Though you knew Bobby was hard at work trying to find a way you could take them down.

“We’re really walking into hell here aren’t we,” You groaned, keeping your eyes on a nondescript woman in a grey suit; her brown hair up in a migraine inducingly tight bun. She looked like a librarian. A librarian you could tackle. At least that way you could avoid looking at the other, more familiar faces on the screen. The Bishops, The Thule cult, hell, even Astor, the crooked art dealer, was up on the list. And next to her, a man you really didn’t want to party with...

Alastair.

That man was a monster. There wasn’t anyone in the underground that didn’t know his name. Serial-killer and main mafia torturer, he was pretty much just a killer for hire whose loyalty was only with his own wallet and the pleasure he found in pain. Also… He was yet another example of mobsters deciding to just, not have surnames. Like, wasn’t that supposed to be a Madonna thing? When did the big bad jump on the bandwagon?

What was next? Pointy bras and too much hairspray?

“So… We’re walking into a damned pit of vipers. What’s new?” Dean finally spoke up, breaking the heavy tension in the room as he signaled silently to his brother to keep the show moving, and preferably remove the pictures of pure evil from the screen.

“True, but they do mean we have to be more careful. Try to avoid anyone making you, and if possible stay far away from the worst of ‘em, unless we see an opening that could help us take ‘em down later on,” Sam sighed, leaning over Charlie, where her eyes were still looked on the Styne family heir and hit a button to change the images on the screen to a new group of faces.

This group was much more welcome and familiar. Well, with the exception of one, that was.

The faces of your own little group, sans Sammy, were smiling back down at you, fake names and all. And of course, there was Crowley. Luckily, if you squinted just right, you could crop him out of the picture, and better yet, focus in on Dean’s headshot.

He always looked damned good in a suit.

“You’re all caught up on your covers right?” Sam asked as he turned away from the keyboard and looked over at the rest of you. Not missing your annoyed little huff as you rolled your eyes.

“You mean Alicia? I’ve seen deeper background stories for nameless stormtroopers Sammy. Fucking Stormtroopers,” You didn’t bother hiding the bitteness in your voice, even as Dean tried to disguise his laughter behind an overly fake cough.

“It’s…”

“Yeah yeah… Spare me the excuses. I know, the mafia’s terrified of a pair of tits,” You grumbled, looking up at the short bullet points next to each of your characters. Yours was just as short as Charlie’s. Neither of you needed much time to prepare your cover stories, even though you’d probably spend triple the time getting ready to go to the party.

It was unfair.

This time Dean didn’t even try to disguise his laughter, And the pure, brilliant sound of it sent the butterflies in your stomach into overdrive. Scratch that, these weren’t butterflies, they were damn attack helicopters. Yeah, you really loved making him laugh. It made you all tingly and warm. Even when faced with the mafia's particularly pungent brand of misogyny.

“Alright then,” Sam cleared his throat in a weak attempt to hide his own surprised laugh, before he gestured up at the screen behind him, eyes still on your group.

“Cover wise, Castiel is the only one who should need to properly reveal his character’s background. Since Crowley will be introducing him to people as a possible investor. That way he’ll have easy access to get a full read of them, and hopefully tease some information out of ‘em as well,” As Sam spoke, Castiel nodded along. His normally stiff back relaxed and a slightly cocky smirk in place.

Your grifter always fell right into character the moment it was assigned. You’d be dealing with a strange mix of Cas and stranger danger from now until the party was over. And by the looks of the bullet points, his character was definitely ready to rub elbows with the big bad on the guestlist; weapon development, human trafficking, drugs… The full enchilada.

“Charlie and (Y/N)... Your characters should stay as hidden as possible. I know you used to work for Roman Enterprises Char, but from what you’ve told me I don’t think we need to worry about Roman recognizing you. Try to avoid engaging in conversation and keep moving if someone tries to talk to you. You’ll be there as plus ones, so you should be able to rely on Cas and Dean for backup as far as covers go,” Sam continued, rolling his eyes at your childish frown.

“Thank God… I don’t like talking to people,” The way Charlie whispered the word ‘people’ made it sound like the filthiest word known to man. The wash your mouth with soap type of filthy that was... Nothing like the filth in your own mind where you were still acutely aware of Dean next to you.

Sam only chuckled at Charlie’s words before finishing up the cover connection with Dean’s role. “And Dean… Your cover is as Cas’ business partner, but mainly in the way of ‘products’ and muscle, so you should be free to walk around. If anyone catches you eyeing up the firepower carried by the security at the party, you can lean into your arms dealer persona to get out of it,”

On the screen, each new tap of Charlie’s finger brough new lines, tying the team and plan together. Easily mapping out the human ties needed to make your little group work within the confines of the party without standing out too much as individuals. All attention should be on Castiel, the rest of you should just appear as garnish to the untrained eye.

“Sounds good Sam. I’ll scout the guards with (Y/N), so she can scope out our exit paths, and...” Dean started, but before he could continue Sam raised a quick hand to stop him. Brown hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head.

“(Y/N)’s going as Castiel’s date. She’s the better pickpocket, and won’t need to move around as much past checking the exit paths and confirming the safe is where it’s supposed to be. Charlie needs to place cameras and wiretaps, so it makes sense for her to go with you Dean, since you’ll be on the move,” Sam said, nodding to Charlie who easily pressed a few keys and showed your approximate planned paths around the party, and the pairs you’d be in. Your smiling face looked back at you from the screen, sandwiched between Cas’ and Crowley’s...

Damn it, you’d have to hang around the United Kingdom of Sass all night. You’d go crazy.

“Don’t worry Alicia, I’ll watch your back, and make sure to keep the main focus on myself. That way you can scout and free the marks of their wallets,” Cas was, as always, a true gentleman. Even if he insisted on calling you by your damned cover name already.

You’d teamed up with the grifter a few times before, and you worked pretty well together. He always knew when to give you the space you needed to do your job without crowding you. And you knew he could control Crowley. The Scotsman seemed nearly subdued when Cas was around.

The plan made sense, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t at least get one snarky dating remark in there… Maybe two if you were lucky.

“Alicia would want dinner first,” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at the trenchcoat enigma across the room from you. Happy when you managed to tease an exasperated eyeroll out of him, momentarily breaking his cover.

“I’ll buy you a burger after we’re done with the case,” He conceded, which only helped brighten your smile. You never said no to free burgers. Yet, before you could speak up again to push for some fries with that burger, Dean interrupted you.

“No, that doesn’t work,”

His voice was deep and dark. So very different from your light teasing tone and even Castiel’s annoyed one. His lowered voice easily pulled your eyes off of Castiel and over to where he had pushed himself away from the desk, though he remained standing right next to you.

“She needs to scope the exits, get eyes on the safe… We can’t just trust Bobby’s inside man,” His clenched jaw made the words come out clipped and short. Back straight and shoulders tense as he stared down the image of Crowley on the screen next to yours. The ice freezing up his green eyes barely visible under his long lashes as he kept his full attention on the screen, ignoring your questioning look.

As always, Dean took your heists seriously, and you knew he felt responsible if any one of your little ragtag group got as much as a broken nail on his watch. Which was why he was always quick to react if he didn’t agree with a plan.

“We need the IDs and…” Sam started, clearly not seeing the challenge in his brother’s clenched jaw. Dean’s lips were pressed tightly together as he shook his head at Sam, taking a step towards him.

“Castiel’s a great pickpocket. He can hand the cards to Charlie, who’ll strip the info and hand ‘em back. Easy... And it makes more sense. He can pull off getting close to ‘em better than (Y/N) can if she’s just his plus one,”

Dean’s voice was like rolling thunder as he cut his brother off. His hands curled into slightly trembling fists at his sides as he opened his mouth to say more. Before clearly thinking better of it and swallowing the words down, hard. Choosing instead to tear his eyes off of the screen to stare down Sam instead.

“Charlie needs to plant cameras…” Sam wasn’t giving up on his plan either. When the two brothers butted heads it could often end up carrying on for a while. Clearly stubbornness ran in the family. No matter how infuriating it was for the rest of you.

“Yeah, but we’ve already marked where we want ‘em. Just choreograph her wandering the party, getting new drinks, whatever. Just like you’d have to make (Y/N) move to scout exits,” Dean nodded at the screen, still showing carefully plotted paths from room to room. The dotted lines made sure you’d all cover the ground you needed too, without the hosts or security catching onto you casing the joint.

“Dean…” Sam’s eyes followed Dean’s to the screen, hand pushing the cursor over one path to highlight it as he got ready to lawyer up and make his rebuttal.

But Dean wasn’t letting the younger man speak. His deep voice was all business, and when the former mercenary meant business, you really didn’t want to stand in his way. Even if they were talking about you as if you weren’t there. Which pissed you off, big time.

“Sammy... She should go with me. It makes the most sense,” Dean cut in again, arms folding across his chest as he kept his eyes on his brother and jaw clenched tight.

“She’s right here you know! Stop treating me like I’m fucking invisible, ‘cause if I was I’d be a damn superhero by now,” You shot in, throwing your hat in the ring for the title of the most stubborn bastard of the bunker.

You wouldn’t just stand around listening to them using you as an excuse for another fucking pissing contest. They both had good heads on their shoulders as far as planning went, but that didn’t mean they always knew how to use them. And that definitely didn’t give them the right to drag you into it like you were the last damned good toy on the playground.

“I know (Y/N), but this is the best way. The safe’s our priority,” Dean’s voice was warmer and calmer as he glanced away from his brother and flinched at the quiet anger building in your (Y/E/C) eyes.

You really didn’t like it when someone tried to run your life for you. You’d had enough of that with the organization controlling every aspect of your childhood and early teen years. After all, you were a big girl, and you were fucking amazing at your job.

No matter whose arm you had to hang off of during it. All because of the goddamn patriarchy.

“I can…” You started, though you didn’t really know where you were going with it past some ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ lines to knock their testosterone levels down a few pegs.

Yet, unfortunately, your bravado was short lived, as a gruff voice you hadn’t been expecting boomed over yours. Nearly making you bite your fucking tongue in surprise as you jumped away from the desk. Though you personally thought you did a damned good job at hiding your shock as you gracefully let yourself thud back against the desk with a sigh and an eye roll.

“Boys! Stop actin’ like idjits. Sammy, your plan is good, but Dean makes a good point about the safe. Let’s switch the pairs,” Bobby’s voice came from out of nowhere. Drawing every set of eyes towards the phone on the table next to Sam. Your big boss hadn’t spoken up once during the whole briefing, but clearly he’d been listening in.

Damn it, he was a ninja. A sneaky, stealthy phone ninja.

“(Y/N), you’re goin’ with Dean. Watch his back, case the exits and get eyes on the safe. That final one’s your main priority, got that? Dean, weapons and security, as planned. Charlie, you back Cas up and place your gadget eyes and ears along the way, Cas, you know what to do, you get our girl the cards she needs and she’ll strip ‘em,”

Bobby didn’t give any of you a chance to even protest or, hell, agree to his plan. Shooting off rapidfire orders from the speakerphone on Sam’s desk as your little band of not so merry men nodded along like a bunch of scolded school children.

“In the meantime… Sam, you’ll be running point on this one from outside the party. I’ll be busy on the turnabout angle, in case it comes to that, and greasin’ up the right legal wheels so we’re ready to throw the boss right into a jail cell if we can. Is that understood?”

Once more your little group was left simply nodding at a phone as if it could see you. However, as the silence dragged on, it seemed your gruff leader needed a bit more of a verbal confirmation this time.

“Yes boss,”

Your voice mixed with those of the rest of your group, all groans, strict professionalism and tense nerves blending into a chorus. Each and every aspect of those many verbal emotions were just as present in you. Anger at Sam and Dean’s stubbornness, readiness to kick ass and forget about the names (you were never good at remembering ‘em anyway) and nerves…

Fuck, there were so many nerves.

Ok... So, deep breaths.

Now you’d have to act like Dean’s date. Damn it… You really should’ve practiced your cover better. You barely even remembered your fake name whenever he was around. If his hand had to be on your lower back, leading you around the room, you might just forget your actual name as well.

Sam was a brilliant strategist, and he knew that having you at your best, meant also not having you at your damn horniest. So, your cover being any form of romantically entangled with Dean’s was a pairing that had been silently nixed for every other heist. EVER.

Both Sam and Char knew you needed all your brain power for the cons. And with Dean around… Well, half of your brain went into maintenance mode; as your body had to remember how to breathe again and your heart beat its way out of your chest and into your throat.

Plus, with his icy eyes and tense shoulders from moments earlier still fresh in your mind, you couldn’t even manage another weak attempt at date snark to get another burger out of it. Which meant you’d lost your burger too...

Everything about this con was just unfair.

You did, for just a moment, consider warning him that you didn’t put out on the first date, as an attempt at your normal fake date snark. The same you’d normally pull with anyone you had to pretend to have given your heart to for a heist. This time though, that would just make you a liar. And though you were many things; a thief, a con artist, a spy and a damned good infiltrator, your mother didn’t raise no liar.

Well… Your mother didn’t raise you at all, but that was beside the point.

There was no way you could pull off something as horrendously untrue as a snarky fib about first dates and your perceived archaic stance to them. Not with Dean. If it was him asking you on a date, then you’d have definitely invited him to your room to look at your pokemon card collection after just a cup of shitty bunker coffee. No need to wine and dine when the man himself was a fucking five star meal.

Sure… You’d technically been paired with Dean on certain cases before. But your role wasn’t ever as his date.

You were usually a secretary, or an art expert or something. Some form of cover that allowed at least a bit of breathing space between you, and didn’t involve hanging off his arm. But Alicia had no such background. Which meant you had to act as Dean’s girlfriend, or side piece, for the night.

Shit...

Was the world out to kill you? What had you done for Mother Earth herself to put out a hit on you? Was it the art theft in France? Or the time you might have, sort of, maybe, snuck into the Vatican? Or… Damn it. There were just too many items on your naughty list. Karma was a bitch, and one you’d been ghosting for a very, very long time.

It seemed you were long overdue a death by heavy heart beats, frantic butterflies and dirty, downright filthy thoughts. And, as you glanced in Dean’s direction, you couldn’t help but think it’d be a hell of a way to go. Especially when your eyes locked with bright forest green as he beamed down at you from his victory over his brother. Looking absolutely freaking adorable.

Yeah, the world was definitely out to kill you.

Start Here - Last - Next

Charity Heist: @foxyjwls007 @seppys-return-to-madness @stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @twinkleinadiamondsky @tmb510 @mimaria420

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70 @roseblue373 @djs8891

#dean winchester fic #au!spn #dean au #au!dean winchester #tales89writes #hitter!dean #thief!reader #supernatural heist au #supernatural leverage au #spn heist au #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester heist au #mercenary!dean winchester

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forensicated · 2 months

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Smiffina Episodes - Frontline Part 3: End Game

Callum returns to work on the day of Emma's funeral. He tries to go out on a job but Gina keeps him station bound to support people who may need it given what day it is. The superintendent also wants him to lead the bearer party but Smithy isn't sure if that's a good idea. Smithy asks if she's alright and she admits she spent the night before with Emma's family . It's clear that it - and the rest of the last few months - are taking it out of her.

Karen meets Jack and tells him that it's looking more likely that it's a lone bomber targeting those he thinks are part of the Four Evils Of The Internet.

Pornography Rise:

The nightclub (the first bomb) was targeted during the day, not the nighttime when it would be full of revellers. He had shares in a pornography website and paid Gilchrist to print sleeves for pornographic DVD's for him. Gilchrist also had an account on the hardcore website that Drayton had shares in.

Racial Hatred:

Charity boss posing as a good man is actually fleecing vulnerable immigrants of their cash and makes out it's 'donations'.

He also has secret links with a racist organisation.

Identity Theft:

Carl Adams has links to having stolen other peoples identities and credit cards and had it done to him by the bomber.

Had a fake bomb planted in the garden next to his which Grace believes links to the identity theft idea - not the real person, not the real bomb. Received lots of items that can be used for bombs purchased by someone using his credit card.

The fourth is yet to come...child abuse.

Even if they have received a letter, someone who abuses children is unlikely to come forward and report it.

Uniform are called to a timber merchants where a burglary has been called in. It's a false alarm that rings a few jingle bells when the manager mentions a courier had called. Will rings the number of the informant back - just as Sally spots a bomb. She shouts his name but it's too late - the bomb explodes.

Luckily for her however it's just a flour bomb!

The warehouse is covered in CCTV and Grace is concerned why someone so forensically aware would chose somewhere crawling with cameras. The manager says he's a church warden who is heavily involved in his community and hasn't received any letters or threats. Mickey finds footage to show a courier in a crash helmet hide something near the door. A bomb disposal expert finds a memory stick. On it is a link to a website of The 4 Evils Of The Internet.

They've got just over three hours to find the next victim!

Grace sets up a meeting between the charity boss, Carl Adams and Gilchrist's friend, James Marford, in the same room. She asks if they/their friend told them that they have/had noticed something strange around them over the last few weeks which none of them say yes to. if they have computer security. The charity boss says he does now as a computer virus recently wiped out his computer and that he used a tech support company to do it but Carl did it himself. Canley Technology comes up as a link because they installed the security on two of the computers in question and Carl used to work there.

Mickey and Kezia spot that the 'courier' who set up the bomb that morning and left the USB at the warehouse makes a phone call and attempt to pinpoint the number with the help of TIU. Eventually Mickey finds out who he rang and they set up surveillance on him. He's called William Moore which is interesting as Canley Technology name Colin Moore as the man who installed firewalls on both computers.

Callum's taking the bombing rather personally. He couldn't save Emma but he's adamant he's going to save everyone else. He won't be drawn about Emma and shuts down immediately each time it's mentioned.

Smithy and Mickey watch the mans house, as he makes to leave, Jack tells Smithy to follow him and Mickey to stay and watch. "... Why are they always in such a hurry though?" Smithy sighs as the suspect starts to jog. Smithy is spotted so has to swap with Mickey to make it less obvious that they're following him. Mickey loses him but Callum and Sally catch him with Callum losing it and dragging him alone off to question him. William Moore admits talking to his brother that morning but he didn't mention it because he promised his wife he'd never speak to him again after she caught him looking at child abuse images on the internet. Callum meets up with them back at Moore's house and he's clearly put the screws on. "Whatever you've done I hope it doesn't come back to bite us..." Jack murmurs to him. Moore said his brother is obsessed with people abusing the internet and that he only viewed the images as part of his 'research' but he still agreed to kick him out for the sake of his marriage.

Grace lets the three men out but her suspicions are raised when James Marford makes a comment about the other two men running out the station almost 'like they want the bomber to escape' and makes a comment about it being a fluke that the charity boss survived anyway, covering it by saying that's what he told him.

As Jack looks at the pictures with Mickey things become clearer...James Marford is Colin Moore and by the time they radio it back to the station he's already left. The real Marford is a customer that Moore helped who now works abroad. He's been playing them all along and enjoying showing off 'how clever he is'.

He's known to the Barton St child abuse unit but as an informer who enabled them to make lots of arrests but they hadn't heard of them for several months - the same amount of time since his sister in law caught him looking at the abuse images. William admits he's never really fitted in and is a bit of an oddball and genius. Noone knew how to handle him because he was too 'subversive' and lecturers accused him of hacking the universities computers which got him thrown out.

He now attends a church and has gotten into religion in a big way. His brother said he called his flatmate, Gilchrist, a Heathen. The timber yard owner is also involved in the church as a church warden... could he be the next victim? Or does he know where Moore could be? They've got just over an hour left.

They have a rough idea of where he could be living due to a cluster of calls from his mobile in the area before it was deactivated. The timber yard owner attended the same church and was able to give an address which CO19 are on the way to. Everyone is on edge because it could be boobtrapped. CID run inside and find a website open on a computer displaying footage that he must have taken himself from the bomb blasts showing he was present at each one. He has another room set up to show footage from outside his property. Whilst watching the streaming footage from outside, Jack spots Moore in the crowd and sends out an all unit call to catch him. Callum spots him and chases him down with Sally, Will and Ben. Unfortunately he manages to get into a gated community. The gates close behind him and Callum can't get in. He tries to plead with him that enough is enough and manages to grab him but can't get keep hold and Moore literally slips out of his fingers and has disappeared by the time someone arrives to let them in.

There's 40 minutes left.

Karen and Jack as Grace to have a look on the computer. They find a link to a webpage that looks like it could be a child abuse website before it starts to 'self destruct' and wipes itself so they contact CEOPS to see if they have any information. CEOPS forward a list of people they know involved in that website and they cross reference it with the list from Canley Computers customers whos computers Moore worked on. One name matches and luckily they have his address - they've found the target. CID bring him in but he doesn't admit having a threat and they don't want him to know why he's being targeted. He tells them that they know he's behind a website peddling child porn. He still won't admit it and is very cagey. He says at 3.30 he'd normally be at work but there's nothing found in his office. He admits that he was supposed to be at the charity shop where his wife works . She told him a package had been delivered for him there. It's in the car... and at 3.30 she'll be on the school run.

They head to the charity shop, hoping that's where Moore will be and they send another unit to go and find his wife and get the car locked down.

Sally is tasked with putting Emma's hat on the coffin. Callum tries to get himself excused from the funeral. He wants to go to the school, insisting that he was too late for Emma but won't be too late for this one. Smithy gently tells Gina he'll take Callum's place in charge of the bearer party and she reluctantly gives in and lets Callum go.

Given that Emma's father was seen onscreen and played a large part in various storylines, it seems rather strange that he at least isn't seen onscreen at her funeral. It would have been a nice touch, especially given how close they were. Despite this, as they do every time they show a police funeral - it's absolutely beautifully done.

The children of the school are very excited to see the police officers and the fire brigade and keep trying to watch despite the teachers and police trying to get them somewhere safe.

Moore spots the plain clothed police officers around the scene and takes a woman hostage. CO19 draw their guns and warn him he's surrounded and to let her go. Grace tries to negotiate with him and tell him that the package is in the back of a car on the way to do the school run and he's putting innocent children and the mans wife - who has done nothing and has no idea of his dark side - in danger. Moore holds his phone up as he holds the woman hostage, threatening to ring the mobile. He shouts that people don't listen until they're made to listen.

Mickey and Callum find the car and drag the womans wife out. Unfortunately she has a baby that's strapped in and the boys struggle trying to get the baby out given they're in single figure minutes. Callum shouts at Mickey to run.

Moore calmly tells Grace and Jack that it's about front page headlines, getting attention to the evils of the internet, making people listen. Grace reassures him he's done it and doesn't need to do anymore. He has his finger over the dial button...

Callum is struggling with the car seat as the baby cries, trying his best to get her free.

He presses the button and the call connects as Grace shouts "NO!"

The car explodes and the woman screams for her baby. The officers flinch and look away before Mickey hesitates and lifts the barrier tape

There, crouched and protecting a tiny bundle from the blast is The Terminator Callum.

Sally breaks down at the funeral through a reading but Callum appears at the back and reassures her helping her through it. She goes on to make the speech and they meet up outside at Emma's grave side.

"She's a good copper, went the extra mile. No compromise."

Sorry Callum, I think we saw different Emma's.

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lunarsun12 · 3 months

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Renjun Vs Haechan - Part 4 / 5

Masterlist

Previous Part / Next Part

It has been over a day, there was no sign of Daegal anywhere. As well no progress on getting dirt on YangYang on Renjun and Haechan new alliances.

The angry Chenle, seeing how slow the investigation. He decided to take things into his own hands, which happens to be in favour of Haechan and Renjun case in getting YangYang back.

Let’s see what chaos Chenle has caused…

YangYang: Hyuck and Renjun! Please I beg of you, don’t tell Eomma. I stole the dog, I will get killed big time!

Renjun: You need to do something for us

Now you all wondering, why is YangYang begging. Let’s rewind to the night before, the whole thing started

Back at Haechan and Renjun Chat

Today 21:00

Renjun🌱: Ughhh, this no use we still haven’t got dirt on YangYang!

Renjun🌱: He covered his track so well!

Haechan🐻: Either we have someone, who is afraid of YangYang or Somone mistaken him for a sheep

Renjun🌱: It’s the name, Eomma warned uncle ten not to name him that

Renjun🌱: I don’t know, who is worse you or him…

Haechan🐻: At least my victims, respect me and not scared that is the difference

Renjun🌱: Hmm shore hyuckie respect

Back at Dream Chat

Chenle💰: YOU GUYS ARE SO USELESS! Why hasn’t Daegal returned yet!!

Jaemin🐰: Sweetie, calm down. We are all trying!

Jeno🐶: With this attitude, I don’t think we should help…

Chenle💰: SHUT IT OLD MAN! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!

Chenle💰: WORSE COME TO WORSE! I will make jisung dress up as Daegal as substitute

Jisung🚀: Hey! I didn’t agree to dress up as your dog!

Chenle💰: Well get on finding my baby! You won’t have to do it

Jaemin🐰: Okay, another question why is Mark sitting in the living room like a stature…

Jisung🚀: Mark hyung said, he got attacked by the devil and is not hyuckie

Renjun🌱: I told Mark, many many times not to go hang out with his bestie house. This always happens…

Haechan🐻: Why didn’t you put a tracker on the dog? That’s like a such a rookie mistake to do

Chenle💰: HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW! Someone dared to touch Daegal!

Renjun🌱: He has a point, Lele guard that dog like a hawk…

Haechan🐻: Just check your CCTV camera whatever spy stuff you have

Jaemin🐰: You installed cameras? Without my permission

Chenle💰: HYUCK SHUT YOUR MOUTH! And also thanks, definitely no cctv camera whatsoever

Few mins later…

Chenle💰: EOMMA! TAKE ME TO UNCLE TEN HOUSE! IT THAT SHEEP BOY AGAIN!!

Jaemin🐰: Woah! Let’s not jump into conclusions

Chenle💰: I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES! Which someone sent me of course ahem

Renjun🌱: Hyuckie and I can accompany you! Right hyuckie?

Haechan🐻: Oh yes! Definitely

Chenle💰: Stop hesitating and get the car going and take me there! Or else I will drive there myself

Jaemin🐰: Jeno take the kids to Uncle Ten house

Jeno🐶: Hey why me? You the mother!

Jaemin🐰: As the mother, I ask politely to take the kids to uncle ten house

Jeno🐶: Sorry no can do! I’m trying to make Mark speak and he kept on hugging me. So you have do it

Jaemin🐰: I always get the bad vibes, when I go around his house without doyoung hyung around

Chenle💰: Well chop chop! My baby is in need of rescue

A 15 mins car journey ride…

Without knocking Chenle immediately barged into the house. Demanding where is Daegal is, follow along with renjun and Haechan.

Chenle: WHERE IS DAEGAL!!

The loud shout, startled Kun and Xiaojun who is chilling in the living room

Kun: Lele, did you lose Daegal?

Xiaojun: P-please don’t hurt me! We have no dog here whatsoever

Chenle: CUT THE ACT! Where is YangYang! HE STOLE MY DOG!!

Kun: YangYang? He barely left his room! It can’t be him

With chenle shouting, the not so happy Ten stomped down the stairs asking what the noise is about.

Ten: Oh gosh it’s that werid child, Nana take him away! He is so noisy

Jaemin: Hyung, my child lost his dog and insisted that it is here….

Ten: We don’t own dogs here, just cats you looked at the wrong place hun. Now begone, I need my beauty sleep

Xiaojun: 3 in the afternoon?

Ten: Son? You have a problem..?

Xiaojun: No Eomma…

Before Ten has a chance, to shoot chenle and Jaemin away. He heard barking noise coming from YangYang room.

Ten: What was that?

Previous Part / Next Part

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tiqalicious · 10 months

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Campaign mini story idea: A kindred who can seemingly travel at unbelievable speeds across the city, only for the party to eventually discover said kindred has the unique power to transport themselves anywhere via photographs.

A classic photography darkroom with a wide array of pictures pinned to criss crossing lines, sits tucked away in secret inside of a vintage, roomy 80s apartment who's owner has worked hard to keep it that way. In another room of the house sits a brand spanking new laptop halfway through the process of installing an expensive photography suite, as its owner fervantly begins taking their first steps towards the modern world of digital photography, yet somewhere in the back of their mind, they find themselves unable to shake off the voice telling them never to let go of tradition, and so the darkroom stays.

Three hours ago, the kindred stalked through the streets, following an oddly dressed tourist wandering around the city in board shorts and a bright pineapple shirt during an unexpected stopover on the way to Hawaii. A few moments later, the victim shuffles out of a nearby alley, dazed and confused as they merge back into the nighttime throng, never quite remembering what happened to their beloved digital camera. An excuse to upgrade to the latest model with better cloud integration so as to never lose another precious memory again.

The kindred sits in the alley, staring at the strange device. They'd stayed away from modern tech for an awfully long time, but the camera held such strong potential... perhaps even the ability to right a great wrong.

A high tier kindred within the city, disappears while safe inside their own haven, with no signs of broken entry or exit, only minor evidence of a scuffle and a pile of the kindreds clothes left sitting on the floor. The only thing found upon further investigation is vague, seemingly unhelpful CCTV footage showing smudges, artifacts, film decay and strange lights. If investigation is sufficient, the footage may secretly tell the story of a kindred of some kind looming around, then disappearing after the flash of a camera. Less inscrutable insight might gleam the suggeation of spirits present, but this is a red herring. It all seems so untraceable at first... till it happens two more times, and someone begins to see a pattern.

The coteries presence is requested by the right hand of a panicked, well to do kindred with their haven on complete lock down, terrified of what's about to happen. The right hand explains to the party that a jealous childe is somehow picking off their sires closest confidants, and must be taken down quickly, and the coterie will receive a handsome payout in addition to a favour from a well established kindred player in the city. The coterie receives just enough information to track the perpetrator to an apartment block. Should they find the right apartment and break in successfully, they'll be met with the sight of an uncanny entryway... a short corridor filled with alarming pieces of artwork that all feel a little wrong, each with an aura not far from Edvard Munch's "The Scream", an array of disconcerting, otherworldly paintings focused on the haunted misery of a terrified naked subject, and oh my goodness.... some of those subjects look just like the missing kindred!

Turns out years ago, a handful of kindred had far too much fun playing with their food together. A group of happy drunkards head to the private manor of their new friends as the Kindred lure in their unsuspecting victims and feed on them bit by bit, growing gradually drunk themselves on the alcohol infused blood as they feeding greedily together until only one poor bastard is left. A single drunk fool slowly sobering up enough to comprehend the horror before them, as the voice of the kindred leader Ortence speaks, suggesting they savour their last morsel. Hours of slow agonising torture pass until the last victim dies, and the kindred now completely lost of their regular senses all feed the corpse their vitae together, creating something that wasn't supposed to be... an amalgam of confused powers, drunken emotions, and intoxication, bringing forth a new cursed bloodline.

The new kindred awoke to an empty house, littered with the many corpses of their friends. It takes years to track down who's responsible, and somewhere along the way, the kindred discovers their only true power is to travel through photographs. A lifetime of trial and error begins.

It's important for the photos to be recent, lest the kindred step through into a place far changed from when the snapshot was taken, and end up lodged in a wall, or dismembered by an unexpected wall or doorframe and left to recover. Time difference must also be taken carefully into consideration, lest the kindred step through from their blanket of darkness, into the bright shining arms of final death, as they once narrowly avoided all thanks to some lucky shade.

Others can be pulled along for the journey, but the process is far more disorientating for guests, and for reasons the kindred does not entirely understood, guests belongings do not come along for the journey the same way the kindreds does, so they must always be careful.

For a time, the Kindred is content to simply keep to themselves, exploring the world, free of the sort of travel limitations between cities that are so commonplace for other undead. For a brief moment, somewhere in France, the Kindred breaks into an art gallery, to walk through the halls and enjoy the paintings in peace and quiet, only to find themselves stairing too long at a particular piece, and accidentally shifting inside it, just like they've done til now with pictures. The process is different here. The shift creates a nightmarish place, existing somewhere between the art and reality, hastily conjuring up scribbled things to fill in the empty corners, until it transforms into something wicked and hungry. The Kindred barely escapes with their life, and a powerful lesson is learned.

Back to the modern day and a kindred who finally settled down in the big city after a chance encounter with a digital camera, and the opportunity to finally get revenge, filling the hallway with strange pictures whos canvases slowly shift and change as each victim trapped within tries desperately to flee from the half concieved, nightmarish things slowly catching up.

The Kindred may reveal some or all of this information to the coterie after the haven has been discovered, in the hopes of convincing the group to help deal with the final target... Ortence, the leader of the powerful kindred, currently hiding in complete lockdown for fear of his looming final death. The coterie now have the option to help the cursed kindred and takedown Ortence in order to avenge a great wrong, or catch the kindred off guard and slay them, all for the sake of money and power.

#VtR #vampire the requiem #horror #vampires #kindred #chronicles of darkness #ttrpg #campaign ideas #writing

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importanttragedyflower · 1 year

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imnotrealenoughtohurt · 1 year

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“E DI: I KNOW”

We stopped getting a shower curtain by the time I turned double digits in age .

A man would film me like a movie star .

My mum would give me her pot of jelly from her hospital food tray. Eventually I’d take it without asking.

My father installed cameras in each room of the house .

My mum would cry as I would. I’d say it stings and she’d hysterically as she’d apply the sudo crème into my intimate areas of my body due to the man . She’d say sorry I know over and over again in Albanian .She thinks I don’t remember this.

The plot to the movie never made sense.

How do I tell any guy I’ve ever liked that every time we’ve kissed, I have felt like I have to bare my teeth right after ?

I started getting cavities .My dad points to the right wall on the kitchen ceiling one day and says “Ada you steal any more sweets I can see it . I have cameras installed everywhere”.

I stole a toy elephant from my class once. My mum washed it under the running tap once we arrived to the house and tried make me return it .I never did .I thought I could take care of the elephant better than the teachers that left it alone on the desk .

I can’t remember the man's face.

E Di e Di e Di e Di e Di e di e Di e Di e Di

Every time I have ever kissed a guy, I’m scared feathers will start falling out of my mouth .

Sorry sorry I know sorry sorry sorry I know sorry sorry sorry I know .

My first ever boyfriend in this life jokingly said once he had a camera in my room and for a very long time before bed, I’d stare at the right corner of my ceiling and think he did.

A trip to a beach in Antalya. My dad says the zoomed in pictures of those me are an accident when I grab his phone .

My teacher tells my mum at parents evening “Adela is too nice she bumped into the white board and apologised to it .” My mum still mentions this to this day.

Me and my two sisters would sleep together as kids and we had this ritual growing up every night were Ela would say : “be snug ”, Ambra would say : “be warm” and I’d say : “be snugarma “ and we’d all say together in unison : “hope your sleep is top banana! “We did this for years every night .

An Akon music video was on and I was mimicking the girls dancing seductively in the video. Ambra shouts at me to stop dancing like that. Ela says leave her alone she’s just a kid . I tell them I’m a movie star.

Ambra eventually stopped saying : “be warm “. She would turn her back to us and switch off the light .This is when we should’ve noticed something was happening with her .

Taking food from the kitchen became stealing. We all would eat in Ela’s room that was the size of a closet. We never ate around a dinner table as a family . Ela ‘s room felt way more spacious anyway.

The gooey alien toys you get from the corner shop are so fascinating. My sister tells me if you see a mark on its back, it means the alien has gotten pregnant .

My dad shows me as a kid cctv footage on the television. He points the remote switching from room to room in the house.

Me fal me fal me fal me fal me fal me fal

Ela threw a girl's doll in her face first time we went Albania because the girl laughed at Ambra . I said can I throw my doll at her too. Ela told me I need to keep my doll clean so I shouldn’t.

My mum would let me grab a rose from the park. I’d put the rose in a mug with water and kiss the rose and imagine the rose was a girl.

Ambra doesn’t remember anything.

My uncles use to live with us when I was a baby. My parents told me how when I was a baby one of the uncles had a specific couch he’d sit on .Every time he’d leave the house for work, I’d bow my head down and kiss the seat he had sat at.k just like a movie star

Ela grabs me and Ambra by the wrists “Say sorry to each other or else.”

I start putting my middle finger up at the right corner of every ceiling in the house.

A missing poster for a little girl is taped to a tree back in the summer of 2007 . A kid in Albania tells me I look like the type to be next.

Half an apple slice .Every half an hour .

Guys will always grab me by my wrist and mention how small they are. I always stop myself from wanting to say sorry . I say no they not instead .

I can’t remember the man's face.

I have this important need to know a person's favourite colour once I meet them .

I started applying Sudo creme on the toy elephant and put it under the running tap in hopes of making it feel better.

E Di e Di e Di e Di e Di e di e Di e Di e Di

Every time I have ever kissed a guy, I’m scared Sudo creme will start leaking out of my mouth

We had a crack in the outer part of the bath tub. We had an infestation of mice. There was a mouse I saw living in the crack and I remember feeling sorry for it for how small its hands were. My dad got exterminators and I didn’t speak to him for two days.

my older most beautiful cousin gena grabs my hand takes me to my room and tells me a story about a princess who I was shocked to find out had the same name as me. (An intentional act)She puts my hair in the loveliest hair style and I enter the living room again and get lots of compliments for my new hairstyle and my photo taken because I looked so special. That’s when I realised what it felt like to actually feel like a movie star.

It stings .

Ambra’s favourite colour is yellow. I remind her of this all the time.

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missmcspooks · 2 years

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THE KIDNAPPING AND MURDER OF SANDRA CANTU

In Tracy California, 2009, one of the biggest cases in the nation grew like a wildfire. Sandra Cantu’s beautiful life was sadly put to rest by a woman who wanted the spotlight so badly, she had to kill for it. To this day she has never told anyone why she did it, and I don’t think she ever will.

Sandra Cantu

Born on March 8th, 2001, and raised in Tracy, California. She was a beautiful young girl who was nine at the time of her murder. Sandra was outgoing, super friendly, adventurous, and had so much energy. She had many friends and everyone around her trailer park had adored her. She was like a shining light in all the lives that she touched, and all she wanted to do was help people. She had many hobbies such as signing, dancing, coloring, and loved to help with cooking and join her grandparents when they were gardening. Sandra loved to go out almost every day to play with her friends. She’d normally leave and go off to her friends houses and knock on their doors to see if anyone would wanna play outside. Even when no one could join her, she just played outside by herself. Sandra’s mother, Maria, knew pretty much everyone in the trailer park and never really had to worry about the safety of her children when going outside to play.

But One Night She Didn’t Come Home…

On Friday, March 27th, 2009, Sandra dropped off her backpack at home and went out to find some friends to play with. She was last seen at 4 PM, and she knew she had to be back in time for dinner. Maria noticed around 7 PM that Sandra was still not home for dinner, but she didn’t panic right away. She called up a bunch of the neighbors who Sandra played with frequently, but no one claimed to see Sandra after school ended. Maria went outside and started calling out for her, and walked around to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Maria called the police at 7:30 PM and reported her daughter missing.

The Police Did Everything They Could To Find Her…

Investigators went around to every trailer in the trailer park and asked if anyone had seen Sandra. They showed them her photo, and explained that she was wearing a Hello Kitty T-shirt and black leggings when she went missing. No one reported seeing her since 4 PM. This case traveled around California rapidly, and soon it hit the entire nation. There were hundreds, if not thousands of people looking for Sandra. Missing child posters were put up everywhere, search parties going, there were sniffer dogs, helicopters, people searching for her on horses to cover more ground. Sandra’s grandfather installed a CCTV camera incase anything suspicious happened on their block. In the footage you can see Sandra skipping around, perfectly happy. However, she was only seen leaving in the direction away from her home, and she never even tried to make it back home. In the footage police also noticed that it looked like she was heading towards home, but something, or someone, had caught her attention, and she walked in a different direction than she had initially intended. But who, or what, got her attention?

The Police Tried To Find Some Leads…

But ultimately, they couldn’t find anything worth investigating. Sandra’s parents were separated, and around the time of her disappearance, they were in the middle of finalizing the divorce. Investigators asked if it was possible that her ex-husband had taken her, for revenge, or to upset her? Is it possible he was angry about not having custody of Sandra? Maria denied it all. She knew her ex-husband very well, and she said he would never do anything like that. However, investigators needed to confirm it, and they got in contact with him. Her father said he hadn’t been in Sandra’s life for a few years now, and they were able to confirm his alibi, as he wasn’t even in California when she went missing.

Maria told the police to look into one man who lived in the trailer park who was a pedophile. This was an older man who was witnessed two years prior, when Sandra was six years old, pushing the hair out of her face and kissing her on the lips. They took this man in for questioning, and confronted him about his actions towards Sandra two years ago. He kind of laughed and played it off, telling investigators that it was just harmless affection. They told him it was no laughing matter, and it wasn’t harmless, it was sexual assault against a minor. This man then get all serious and told investigators that he actually had an unhealthy attraction to young girls, specifically in the age range between nine and eleven years old. This shot up huge red flags, because this man just admitted to having an attraction to girls exactly around the age of Sandra, who was eight years old. However, this man did have a confirmed alibi, and they released him.

In the middle of it all… a neighbor had called the police to let them know that her suitcase had been stolen out of her driveway, around the same time Sandra went missing…

Sandra’s Vigil Was Beautiful

So many people showed up to Sandra’s vigil, even people who didn’t even know Sandra or her family up until the news about her disappearance. People wanted to show their support to the family, and even the police showed up, along with the FBI. There were a few reasons why the police were there… Some of them wanted to feel close to the family, as they themselves had children around Sandra’s age. But the biggest reason they showed up, is to hopefully see someone acting in a suspicious manner. In many cases, the perpetrator would show up to vigils, funerals, search parties, anything about their victims, because they often want to feel powerful, or entertained by what they’ve done, or they want to feel like they’re in so much control of the situation. They want to put themselves into the investigation in some sort of way. In the middle of all of the singing, and all of the beautiful stories and memories being shared about Sandra…

A Frantic Woman Came Tumbling Through…

This woman barged through the vigil, frantic, panicked, crying hysterically. She pushed people out of her way to get to the investigators to inform them that she had just found something related to the disappearance of Sandra. They could barely understand this woman due to how hysterical she was, she was barely able to breathe, hyperventilating and stricken with fear. Police were finally able to calm her down enough to get her to take them to where this clue is that she’s speaking of. She led the police over to where her mailbox was, and on the ground they found a note that read…

“Cantu locked in stolin suitcase. Thrown in water onn Bacchetti Road and Whitehall Road. - Witness.”

At this point the police were feeling a lot of mixed emotions. On one hand, they had just received this note stating that Sandra is dead. On the other hand, they’re starting to feel a little suspicious… Why? Because the same woman who had supposedly been given this note, is the same exact woman who reported her suitcase as missing, Melissa Huckaby. Investigators had so many questions in their heads. What are the chances that the same woman who reported her suitcase as stolen, is the same woman to be given this note? Why her of all people? Shouldn’t this note have been sent to Sandra’s mother? Was this note written by the killer? Was it written by an actual witness? Or was the note fake, written to waste the time of the investigators? Police sent this note off to be reviewed by handwriting specialists, and the results came back stating that not only did the handwriting look as if it’s been faked, but there were also a lot of very obvious spelling mistakes. Also, they noticed that the suitcase was written stolen in the note, but why would the killer write that it was stolen? Wouldn’t they have just written “suitcase?” If this was an actual witness, how would they have even known that the suitcase was stolen?

Investigators Started Looking Into Melissa A Little More…

Melissa was a Sunday school teacher, whose father was a pastor, and had a daughter of her own around the same age as Sandra. Melissa also had a few mental health conditions such as, borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia. Melissa told investigators that she had been at her church decorating her classroom around 4 PM when Sandra had last been seen. They asked her if she could show them any proof of her being there, and she told them that she had called the police from the church to notify them about her suitcase. Police checked the phone records and confirmed that she had called from the church. However, this didn’t mean Melissa was fully out of the woods yet. Just because Sandra was last seen at 4 PM, doesn’t mean that she had gone missing at 4 PM. She could’ve been taken at any time between 4 PM and 7:30 PM when her mother called the police. Even though Melissa had been a little shady, police still didn’t think that she was actually the killer. They mainly thought that she had just been doing this for attention seeking purposes. With nothing to hold her on, she was let go and police went around to talk to her neighbors to see if anyone could tell them any information about Melissa. They were told that it’s very common for her to do things that bring attention to her, and that she also acted strange towards the neighborhood children. When asked for an example, they were told that Melissa had taken one of the neighbors children to the park for a couple hours without letting her parents know. When their daughter returned home, she was incoherent and slurring her words. She was taken to the doctor and found that Melissa had drugged her with benzodiazepines.

And This Is Where Evidence Starts To Accumulate

Police now considered Melissa as a person of interest, and asked her if they could seize her car to look for any evidence, and she agreed. They weren’t really expecting to find anything… But they did. They found a sticky note in her glovebox, and it seemed to have a few words written onto it, which had been scribbled over many times, so it was hard to read what had been written. Police sent this sticky note to the handwriting and paper specialists, and they received results that were very, very suspicious. The three words that were written on that sticky note were…

Bacchetti Road…

Whitehall Road…

Water…

Now the police had more bells going off in their heads. They still didn’t think that she had killed her, as no body has been found yet, and nothing incriminating had been found at this time. But they really did think that this note was most likely written by her, and they were thinking she was still doing all of this for attention. However, they can’t leave any stones left unturned, and now got a warrant to search her home. Once again, they didn’t find much… But found one thing that would soon confirm that she wrote the note. They found a notebook in her dresser that had a page ripped out of it, and on the next page they saw imprints of words that were most likely written on the page that was ripped out. Once again, the police sent this notebook over to the handwriting and paper specialists, and the results came back… Not only did the imprinted words look the same as the words in the note given to the police, but it was the same exact paper that the note was written on.

But The Police Still Didn’t Have Enough Evidence…

Investigators needed more than just a possible fake note to charge her with anything. They felt like they were losing leads and getting nowhere with the case. One officer said they should check her Sunday school classroom, as she mentioned that she was there around the time that Sandra had gone missing, and maybe they can find some sort of evidence to help their case there. They got the warrant to search the classroom, and they found very bizarre things… One of the white strings to the blinds in her classroom seemed to have been cut off, and then re-tied, so a chunk of it was missing for whatever reason. Then, they checked out the kitchen, and found a red smudge mark on a rolling pin. They bagged up both of these things and sent it off to the laboratory for DNA testing.

In The Meantime…

It was going to take a couple days to get the results back on the items sent in from the church, and police remembered that Melissa had given them other suspects to look into. They thought it was strange that she had a list of suspects to give them, but since they had the time to spare, they decided to check them out. The first man she gave them was someone who apparently had been known to drug children. The police found this to be quite strange, as there weren’t any records of this man being a sex offender, or drugging any children, but they brought him in for questioning anyway. The other two men were a father and son duo, both of which were adults. Melissa told police that these men had pictures of young girls in their phones, including pictures of Sandra. They were brought in for questioning and their phones were seized. Surprisingly, they did find images of young girls on these phones, including images of Sandra, just like Melissa had stated. However, the images were found to be innocent, or subjective at best, and nothing that they could really charge them with. They found an image of Sandra sitting on one of the men’s laps, which police found odd because why would you have a young child that you barely know sitting on your lap? These three men, along with the man who had kissed Sandra on the lips two years ago, were given polygraph tests. Polygraph tests are not completely reliable, and cannot be used in court. It’s unknown as to why these tests are even used to begin with, outside of maybe giving police some insight into the suspects. Nonetheless, they were given the test, and only one man passed it. This confused the police, because could these three men, along with Melissa, be the culprit? Were they all working together? Does someone know more than they are admitting? The man who had kissed Sandra on the lips passed the test, which police assumed would happen anyway, as he had a reliable alibi. The man who was accused of drugging children failed his test, however, police let him go because he also had a reliable alibi. They were going to keep a close eye on him anyway. The father and son duo both failed their tests.

But Before Police Were Able To Question Them Further…

They made a discovery that they never hoped to have made. The pond that the note stated Sandra’s body was in, was drained, and they found a suitcase… The suitcase was sealed shut and tied with a white string. Police didn’t open the suitcase, as they didn’t want to mess up any forensic evidence that could possibly be found on it. The suitcase was put into a bodybag and sent to the laboratory. When it arrived, the coroner opened the body bag and lifted the suitcase and put it on the table. They immediately knew, from just the weight of the suitcase, that a body was inside of it. They also suspected it due to the awful smell that was coming from it. It smelled like decomposing human flesh. They began opening the suitcase, and it was confirmed… A child’s body was inside. However, the decomposition was so bad, they couldn’t immediately identify her. They had to use the information they had about what she was wearing to make an identification. At this point in the case, it had been eleven days since she was reported missing. The coroner stated that she was killed just a couple hours after she was taken. Just by looking at her body, they didn’t notice any injuries, outside of a cut on the inside of her lip, which could’ve been done by accident. Sandra’s body had been sent in for an autopsy, where they’d discover something awful…

Sandra’s cause of death was strangulation…

She was sexually assaulted with a foreign object…

She was drugged with a LOT of benzodiazepines…

Once again, glaring red flags going off in their heads. Melissa was confirmed to have drugged a child once before with the same medication, and she also accused a man of drugging children, while having nothing to confirm that accusation. Police also wondered why Sandra’s clothes have been put back on after being sexually assaulted. Most of the time when a victim is sexually assaulted, the clothes are either thrown into wherever the body is placed, or they’re completely missing. Due to the fact that Sandra’s clothes were placed back on her body, it was assumed that the person was either most likely a woman, or someone who felt remorseful and wanted to give Sandra the last bit of dignity she could have before being tossed away. It was also at this time when the results came in regarding the items found in the church. The white string was confirmed to be the same exact string that was tied around the suitcase, and the red smudge mark was confirmed to be Sandra’s blood.

Time To Make An Arrest

But sadly, they couldn’t. When they went to arrest Melissa and bring her in for questioning, she wasn’t home. She was actually in the hospital because she tried to commit suicide by swallowing razorblades. Doctors told investigators that she isn’t doing well and needs to rest, and to please wait until she’s released from the hospital to question her. They thought it was quite convenient that she tries to commit suicide just when Sandra’s body has been found. Police pretty much had all that they needed to make an arrest, however, they had time to kill and decided to dig up even more evidence to further incriminate her. They decided to bug her phone, and since she’s in the hospital, she’d have no idea that her phone is bugged. After waiting patiently, they finally got the call they were hoping for. The same day that she was released from the hospital, Melissa called Sandra’s mother and asked her if her daughter (Sandra’s older sister), would like to come over and play with her daughter. Police raced over to Melissa’s home, and when they arrived, there were no children inside at all… Not even her own daughter. Melissa was trying to abduct and kill another child, from the same exact family, because she knew that the police were onto her. They couldn’t tell Melissa that they bugged her phone, so they had to quickly think of something to get her down to the station so they could begin their questioning. They told her she needed to come with them to make a statement.

She Denied, Denied, Denied…

But when police told her that they had evidence against her, and they even had a statement by two people who witnessed her at the pond on the day of her disappearance, she completely broke down in tears and started confessing. Police let her get it all out and listened to her story, while they had all the evidence written down in their paperwork in front of them.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. She just died.”

She told them that Sandra had come over to play hide and seek with her and her daughter. She claimed Sandra went inside of the suitcase and zippered it up. Then she got distracted and totally forgot that she was playing hide and seek and that she was in the suitcase. She then remembered she had to go to the church to decorate her classroom, and she picked up her suitcase and put it in the trunk. Then she came home and brought the suitcase back inside, and that’s when she remembered that Sandra was still inside the suitcase. She opened the suitcase and saw that she wasn’t breathing. She was afraid of being sent to prison for accidentally killing a child, so panicked and threw the suitcase into the river.

Investigators just sat there… nearly laughing at the ridiculous things coming out of her mouth. Not only did they have the evidence that she just left out of her story completely, her story on it’s own doesn’t make any sense at all.

How did Sandra zip up the suitcase while she was inside of it?

How did she pick up the suitcase and not realize how heavy it was?

Why did she even bring the suitcase with her to the church? She obviously didn’t have any supplies inside of it, considering a child was able to fit into it?

She obviously didn’t open the suitcase while at the church, so what was the point of bringing it with her, just to bring it back inside the house after?

How would she not hear a child talking or screaming inside of it?

Let’s not forget about the actual evidence…

Melissa completely left out the fact that Sandra had been strangled.

She left out the fact that Sandra had been drugged.

She left out the fact that Sandra’s clothes have been taken off of her, then she was sexually assaulted with a rolling pin, then had her clothes placed back on her.

Last but not least, the police told her that Sandra had never, ever, been to this church before, and didn’t attend her Sunday class or anyone else’s. So how did Sandra’s DNA get onto that rolling pin, if she had never been inside the church?

That’s when Melissa finally realized she was not getting away with this, and told them what the real story was. She said that she saw Sandra walking around and called her over. They began talking and told her she was going to the church to decorate her classroom. Sandra, being the kind helper that she was, offered to go with her to help decorate. Once they got to the church, Melissa crushed up a bunch of pills and put it inside a large glass of juice, which she gave to Sandra. This sedated Sandra very deeply, almost right away. That’s when she began to undress her, sexually assault her with the rolling pin, put her clothes back on, and then strangled her. She said they got to the Church around 4:30, she was killed by 5:30, and then dropped into the pond by 6 PM. This means that Sandra was killed before her mother even had the chance to report her missing. When police asked her why she did this, she never gave them a real answer. She just told them that she didn’t know why she did it, and that she regrets ever doing it immensely.

She Can Never Change What She Did…

In April of 2009, Melissa was charged for the murder of Sandra Cantu, along with being charged of drugging a seven year old boy, and a 37 year old man. However, Melissa was given a plea bargain to drop the drug charges and refrain from getting the death penalty, as long as she plead guilty to the first degree murder and kidnapping of Sandra. She accepted this deal, and was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

To this very day, Melissa has never admitted to why she killed Sandra. It’s impossible to believe that she had no real motive to commit a crime that was so carefully premeditated. Maybe one day Melissa will finally admit to why she did it, but there’s a very good chance that no one will ever know.

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