1965-03-28 - The Chicago Chronicle - Part 2
Summary: It's time to get what they came for and go.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jesse cassidy constantine 

The man at the table glances up only when John starts to approach, but shows no sign of recognition or even emotion save for a sort of dry look. There's no one else beyond him seated at that end of the diner, and the restrooms are at the other end, so he can only assume that John is approaching him.

Cassidy just sits up at the counter for the time being, looking shifty and drinking coffee. Meanwhile, he has one eye on John and one eye on Jesse heading out toward the car.

What Jesse finds when he moves past the car is that there appears to be some sort of case inside of it, set back on the floor and almost entirely tucked under the passenger seat as though to hide it — but not quite well enough. The interior of the car looks familiar. It seems like they've found who and what they were looking for. Gen starts to whisper as soon as the case comes into view, urging Jesse to take it.

|ROLL| Constantine +rolls 1d20 for: 5

Constantine was bandying about how he wanted to go about addressing this. Bollocks, he had no plan. If this was going to go belly up meh, he could just punch em and be done with it. The Brit address the man keeping him engaged, "You look a bit weary of the road, mate. Trade ye coffee for conversation?"

Effective car alarms aren't really a 'thing' at this point, so Jesse considers it right then and there when he sees the case and feels the pull. The interior seems familiar, the case looks familiar, Gen whispering in his ear like a tiny devil-angel on his shoulder.

Casually peeping in the window, then leaning back to check if he can be seen through the windows of the restaurant. If not, the preacher takes a glance back and forth to see if the coast is clear and produces a butter knife pilfered from the diner table, trying to wedge it between the car door and its protruding lock so he can wiggle it free.

It's amazing what one can do with pilfered cutlery. It takes a little bit, but not too long. The coast is clear. The man in the restaurant seems to be more focused on John than on the car. And so Jesse is able to jimmy that door open, and predictably, nothing happens. The door swings open a bit and the case seems to be right there within his grasp. Gen is anxious, excited, whispering to get it and get away, take the car if necessary, just go before anyone notices.

The man looks at John for a moment and there's a slight shrug of his shoulders. The truth was that he had been driving for a long time and he didn't mind the company all that much. "Sure," he says. There's a vauge sort of wave toward the waitress to bring them over some more coffee.

Cassidy continues to drink the world's slowest cup of coffee.

Constantine offered a tired, but rather passibly genuine smile to the waitress, "Aaaah bless ya, luv." He had the advantage of being genuinly tired. He kept teh conversation general, "Business or family keepin ye on the road?" One hand caught the cup and held it still for teh waitress. He offered to his new best mate, "For me it's both. Goin t'visit m'sister. Pell, Alabama they tell me. Not the easiest dot on a map t'find as it turns out." It didn't really matter what they talked about or even if they got a ton of information from the guy because in teh end it was all about distracting him from his cargo.

Jesse pops the metal lock out of the door and shoves the butter knife into the mechanism to pop it open. That lock's not going to work any more, sorry, friend, but Jesse needs this more than you do. He looks under the seat quickly before taking the case and opening it up to make sure that the object of Gen's obsession is inside before fucking off with it and later finding out it's empty.

The case is not empty. Inside there lies the object that they were looking for. The needle sits in its velvet lining within the box. This close, Jesse can see that it gleams as gold as the disc and has some etchings on it. It's clearly the part of the compass that would spin and show the direction upon the golden disc. Now there was only one piece left, the chain with the weight and fasteners to put the whole thing together. Jesse had the case in his hands and the needle practically seemed to hum with vibration, perhaps due to the proximity of Gen, or him, or something. Either way, it was starting to seem to oscillate just a little even disconnected from the other parts of its whole.

The man in the diner says, "Work," in answer to John's question though he looks at the man skeptically and says, "You're pretty far north for heading toward Alabama. You're going to want to head a lot further south than here."

Constantine chuckled and said admittedly, "Comin down from Minnesota. Sometimes I get to make detours goin wherever the good Lord sends me. Eventually it pays the way t'where we all need to go. Can't fault the convenience of that I suppose." Aaaabsolutely do not worry abotu the car. It'd do no good trying to hypnotise the guy herepart of that trick relied on the surprise. Nope. Sometimes simple was good.

Thank the lord. Well, thank Genesis, Jesse supposes as he closes the case again after a quick look over. He definitely does not want to get caught here at the car with their stolen loot, so he closes the case again, rather forcibly, stopping himself from touching it this very second like he feels compelled to do. He then thinks twice of it and plucks the needle up with the sleeve of his coat around his fingers and tucks it into his breast pocket. Closes the case and slides it back where he found it. Let the guy think it's still in there a while.

Jesse stands and shuts the door. It won't lock, but it'll latch for now.

The man in the diner seems to accept the Minnesota explanation easily enough, giving a nod of his head as he takes another swallow of his coffee. He isn't paying attention to the car. In truth, he didn't expect anyone to be out here, really. He continues to talk to John, raising a brow a bit at the mention of the good lord, and asks, "What is it that you do?"

As soon as Jesse puts the needle into the pocket with the compass, two things happen:

The first, is that Gen seems to suffuse Jesse with her excitement at having the two pieces together and he feels that nattering in his head as she rewards him with a deep feeling of having done the right thing.

The second thing that happens, is that there's a blinding flash of light that comes out of Jesse's pocket. That's.. not a good thing at all. That flash from the parking lot immediately alerts the guy in the diner who jumps to his feet and shouts "HEY!" ever so eloquently and makes a mad dash for the door.

Fortunately, Cassidy is right there to extend one long leg just in time to send the guy sprawling to the floor. Ladies and gentleman, the one contribution of Proinsas Cassidy.

Constantine responded tiredly, "Sales." He took another sip of his coffee and *FLASH!* aaaah not good. In one smooth motion he feigned looking startled. WIth one hand he grabbed a clump of napkins, and folded htem to be roughly an immitation thickness of a bifold wallet, all teh while when the sales guy passed by his table John boost his wallet. When Cass tripped him he stopped, replaced what would be teh wallet discretely withteh wad of napkins and helped the guy up. "The devil was that!?" You see this? John makes this face and concernedsounding words come out. Recognition would be nice for all teh hours he researched actually studying people that gave a damn about others. See>? It paid off. Even feels genuine!





You know. For being blinded by a celestial flash-grenade that goes off in his pocket, Jesse's feeling really, really good about it.

Downright pleased, actually. That doesn't stop him from rather quickly walking away from the car in a stumble, blinking and rubbing at his eyes. "That's. Probably not good." Try to act casual, Jess. Casual! He stumbles up to the sidewalk and to the building just to put distance between himself and the car. Maybe he can claim innocence? I mean…he's a preacher, right? But he's not running to the damn get-away vehicle and getting in like this.

The man is making a desparate run for the car, struggling free of John once he is helped to his feet. Cassidy gets up and helps brush him off a bit too, "Alright, let's go on out an' have a look at what the bloody 'ell's goin' on out there." He looks over to the waitress and says very seriously, "Best you stay in here luv, go call the cops an' let'm know there might be some kinda explosion out there." And with that he nudges John and follows the guy out into the parking lot.

Jesse's already clear and over toward the building. The guy isn't even looking in that direction because he's making a bee-line for the car. He tears open the door on the passenger side looking to see if his case is there. He sees the case is there and begins to pull back when.

*WHACK* Cassidy smacks the guy soundly with the car door and then cracks him over the head. Let it never be said that Cassidy isn't willing to step in when a bit of violence where needs be. He hauls the guy into his car and closes the door behind him before turning to John and says, "Shall we?" He looks around and spots Jesse. "Gimme the keys." No, we're not letting John drive the getaway. No.

Jesse is busy being rewarded like a puppy with a snaussage, blinking and leaning against the building, trying to make the negative space in his retinas go away. Hey, that was a bright flash. He can make out bits and pieces of what's going on, and he knows Cassidy's voice as well as the back of his own hand. The metallic thud of a heavy 60's car frame on a soft human body makes him cringe, but the eternal trust that the outlaw preacher puts in his ne're-do-well companions is bolstered by the 'gooooood puppy!' vibe singing in his head right now.

Keys? Damn right! Jesse holds them out, already in hand, toward the voice. "We're good to go." Vague and confirming. With a dopey quirk of a smile on his face. The hell, Jesse? Still blinking and sort of feeling his way around, he gets into the car and practically melts into the seat's velour, feeling fantastic about himself right now. "Hit it, Cassidy."

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