<div class="floatleft">(http://i1007.photobucket.com/albums/af196/daisygirl1200/ddf435a3-2926-47ca-a945-2846ded513d5.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"> That stain was going to set in his trousers. Jack could just feel it in his bones. And then he’d either have to “lose” them somewhere so he could requisition a new pair. Or he’d have to cough up the dough to replace them out of his own pocket. There was no way he’d wear them with a stain! <br/><br/><em>But even in my personal hour of crisis, I didn’t give up my rigorous professional standards,</em> Jack thought while the Probie carried on with her phone. No he prided himself on his professional behavior and that meant he held firm to his responsibilities as a training officer and had gently pointed out a few key areas where the Probie could use a little work in her approach. He didn’t want to show the SSP in a bad light to the general populace so <em>of course</em> he’d gone along gracefully while she manhandled him through the diner and out the door. It had seemed a tad high handed in his opinion but then again luckily she had him to help her along in these areas so help her find her feet he would.<br/><br/>These thoughts tumbled through his brain as Jack took the time to assess the situation at hand in proper SSP fashion.  People were crossing the street to get further away from the diner – a happenstance that made Jack frown in exasperation, had he or had he not assured them confidently that the parking lot would be just fine – and a crowd of people seemed to be gathering from outside sources as well. Old woman Josie and what may or may not have been an angelic host stood off to one side chatting as the woman’s thin arm pointed toward the back of the building.<br/><br/>Jack glanced in that direction, his attention split between listening to the Probie’s one sided phone call and noting that there appeared to be a swirling purple glow emanating from the general direction of where the diner’s back wall had once been. That was a heck of a thing. <em>Never seen that before</em>, Jack though just as the Probie recalled his full attention. Relief trickled through the cracks of his professional demeanor as soon as she told him Carlos was on the way but Jack sternly composed his face to hide it.<br/><br/>“That’s gre-“ the word trailed off, replaced with a small frown. “Wait. How did you get ahold of Carlos so quickly? You have his personal number? He told me he couldn’t give that out to people because the Desert Bluff city council member’s had been crank calling him after they got a hold of his last number. Everyone knows that those Desert Bluff people are jerks.” <br/><br/>Jack felt a moment of hurt that somehow the Probie would have Carlos’ number but Jack himself had been deprived. But of course there must have been some explanation for it. As a matter of fact, Jack bet Carlos has actually called the Probie. He didn’t remember actually seeing her dial. Yes that was probably it. Carlos had probably known there was an issue by using one of his machines or mysterious inventions and called just as the kid activated her phone. After all, everyone knew what an amazing scientist Carlos was.<br/><br/>Why Carlos would have had the girls number never crossed his mind. Jack simply sent the whole thing from his mind as a problem solved and once again over come by reasoning and sound logic. He was a natural at detective work.<br/><br/>“No need,” he said instead answering her question, using his chin to point as the <em>whomp, whomp, whomp</em> became faintly audible to nod at the helicopters, black ones from the south but just behind them and to the west the distinctive blue of the SPP fleet. Jacks feet braced shoulder length apart, his hands settling defiantly on his hips as his chest expanded a little.<br/><br/>“We’re like the Mounties. We always get our man,” he finished, the pride clear in his voice. Although which man and what he had to do with a swirling purple glow Jack could not yet say.</span><br/>