<div class="floatleft">(http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/mtv-teenwolf/images/1/18/Scott_McCall_-_Season_3B.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20140328000254)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Dr. Ken Aldrin<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>San Fransisco, CA | August 9, 2017 | 8 PM PST<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Michael Foste<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Investigating the mysterious text<br/><hr/><br/>More than twelve hours ago, Ken received a strange text message on his cellphone.  The text was strange for a number of reasons.  For one... how did they get his number?  He ditched his old phone five years ago, after he started going on the run.  He had switched to a different, encrypted and untraceable phone since then and hadn't done much to add to his contact list.  The number of people who should know his new number could be counted on one hand.<br/><br/>Of course, one of the first assumptions he made was that this was some sort of crank call.  From... who, though?  The number shouldn't be found in any phone book or other forms of directory.  Maybe it was a trap set by TAC 6?<br/><br/>Whatever the case, he needed to find out what this text message was all about.  For this reason, he arrived at the location a little earlier than he was supposed to.  Using his extra time, he scoped out the area, taking care not to get too close to the designated meeting place before the designated time.  He took care to check out the higher areas.  Any place where a sniper may choose to take him out from afar.  He paid close attention to anyone who lingered a little too long in the area, just in case there were undercover agents among the crowd.<br/><br/>Five years of being on the run has been the young scientist a little on edge.  He had to pay close attention to his surroundings.  Even with his accelerated perception of time, if he missed even a single detail, he could end up getting taken out through ambush, just like that.<br/><br/>Satisfied that whoever contacted him was most likely acting alone, he made his way to the designated meeting spot at the designated time.  He didn't have to wait long before he felt Dr. Foste's hand on his wrist.<br/><br/>Dr. Michael Foste.  Of course, Ken remembered him from the IVC project all those years ago.  It's been ten years, but the project had become so ingrained in his own research that he remembered quite a bit quite vividly.  He remembered Foste as one of the supervisors, who was given that position due to his experience and expertise.  He never actually worked together with the man, but it was hard to forget such a distinctive voice.<br/><br/>Still a little suspicious, Ken kept his eyes open, keeping his head down as Foste requested on the way to... where, exactly?<br/><br/>Once they were in the washroom, Foste started checking to stalls to make sure that they were alone.  Ken glanced toward the door when he was asked not to let anyone in.  Shrugging, he walked over and locked the door from the inside.<br/><br/>Turning his attention back on Foste, Ken asked, "What's this about, Dr. Foste?  Why did you contact me?"