Keysmith [NOT FANFICTION] ✓completed

Sarcasm, Check

Ding!

Francis glanced down at his phone, noting a small green banner stretched across the screen.

New message in BRSS Officials Encoded Groupchat

He unlocked his phone with a quick swipe of his finger as Magenta watched, both hands on the steering wheel and her gaze switching constantly between the road ahead and Francis's phone, before settling on the asphalt highway for safety reasons.

They'd left the backup squad with the boring Ford, opting for an old blue-green Mercedes instead-- one that made them look rather like rich tourists, an allusion that would be more than welcome when they asked around for Luke Hemsworth in Highcrest. They'd tell everyone that they were Luke's rich aunt and uncle from his father's side, and that they were in Highcrest to bring Luke home with them now that his other uncle was in prison. Or something as such-- Francis knew from experience that hardly anything ever went according to plan, and they'd probably need to improvise at least a little.

Speaking of plans...

"Um, Mags?" he spoke up, "I think there's been a tiny change of plans."

Magenta raised an eyebrow, but kept her eyes glued to the road.

"Really, how so?"

"Well..." Francis trailed off, "you may want to read this for yourself. Officers Groupchat."

Magenta grumbled something under her breath, and pulled the car over in one fluent motion, their seatbelts straining as she slowed from over a hundred kilometres per hour to a complete standstill in a few seconds.

Magenta opened the Officers Groupchat on her phone with an annoyed look on her face.

"26 notifications?" she grumbled under her breath, "this'd better be worth the 42 seconds it'll take me to read this all."

"You think 26 is a lot?" Francis chuckled, "I heard that John once went to check on his agents because they had sent less than a hundred messages in their group chat in an hour. Turns out there'd been a power outage that killed the WiFi."

"Shut up and let me read, blondie."

"Yes ma'am," Francis mumbled, proceeding to count down the seconds as Magenta caught up with the messages.

Exactly 42 seconds later she finished reading, her eyebrows knotting into a thoughtful frown.

"Well this complicates things," she muttered.

"Are we sure this isn't a prank?" Francis suggested tentatively, "I mean... it could be, couldn't it?"

"I doubt it," Magenta replied, "the only one that'd pull a stunt like that is you, so... not likely."

"So what do we do?" Francis enquired.

"We split up," Magenta shrugged, "Zenith will send us an address, I'll drop you off there, and then I go on to pick up that Luke kid."

"How do I get back to the BRSS?" Francis frowned.

Magenta glanced at her phone.

"Marshall's coming as backup, he can bring the white van."

"Why can't I pick up the kid?" Francis pouted, "I'm the Recruitment Officer, after all."

"Yeah," Magenta replied, putting her own phone back into her pocket and hitting the gas, which sent the old Mercedes spurting forwards once more, "but you're also the one that's pulled the most pranks as of late. So if this is a payback prank..."

She chuckled softly to herself.

"I'll be in a neighbourhood far far away."

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