<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/0Ba4qon.jpg)</div><hr/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=313762.msg15191918#msg15191918">Quote from: Metraxa on 05-12-2019, 06:55:39</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>Name:</strong> Gordon Briggs<br/><br/><hr/>For now he turned to the constable at the door. "Apologies for the disturbance," he said after making his way over to the man and leaning against the wall. "Just a conflict over jurisdiction, boring stuff like that. Has it been a busy morning?" He put on a smile, letting his charm do the work in at least keeping things from escalating with the security. </blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>"Ah, um. No sir. I mean yes sir." The young man, and he can't be much more than eighteen or nineteen, seems a bit flustered despite Briggs' easy-going approach. His English is good, although heavily accented in German.<br/><br/>"It hasn't been a busy day for me. They only let me stand g... ...I mean, I'm just guarding at the morgue, sir. But I guess Lieutenant-Inspector Stranski has his hands full with the investigation."<br/><br/>The kid looks over Briggs' shoulder toward the examination chamber, but doesn't seem to want to get closer or otherwise interfere.<br/><br/>"They... ...the other constables. They said it was a ray-gun."<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=313762.msg15191884#msg15191884">Quote from: Callie Del Noire on 05-12-2019, 06:13:23</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>Name:</strong> Wallace Aiden Burthold-Campbell<br/><hr/><br/>Wallace leaned over to look at the doctor.  He clicked his tongue as he listened to the doctor to try to leave. <br/><br/>“I understand you might have issues with us, Doctor.. but we were sent by Comrade Androshenko. Would you care to discuss this with him..after you ..evict us? I’m sure he’d be rather cross with you.” Wallace said in fluent German while silently adding to himself, <em>I see your Lt. Stransky and raise you a Comrade Androshenko.</em> He smirked a bit as he continued. </blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>"I wasn't part of the old party in the 30's. I didn't join the old party during the war. And you come in here with your muddy boots and badges and threaten me with the new party?! Take your Comrade whomever and..."<br/><br/>Before Dupond steps in, it is already clear that if Dr Lutzow doesn't like the RPA, he loves the Communist Party less. And technically it's slush from the March weather, not mud....<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=313762.msg15191962#msg15191962">Quote from: dicequeer on 05-12-2019, 07:51:40</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>Name:</strong> Dany Dupond<hr/><br/>"<em>Médecin</em>, we are not here to remove you or prevent you from doing your job," Dany started, as he walked toward the body. "In fact I would very much like to hear your findings. Why do the work twice, no? Clearly you discovered something, just show me and you'll be free of all this," Dany waved his hand vaguely, "nonsense." A little too eager, Dany moved to lift the sheet covering the corpse without waiting for a response.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>Dr Lutzow adjusts his glasses. And turns toward Dupond.  "Finally, they send me a doctor?" He turns back to Burthold-Campbell. "You. The man's effects are over there. Amuse yourself there, but take nothing, we've already contacted the Americans, who have promised to send someone."<br/><br/>Dr Lutzow takes the other side of the sheet and helps fold it back so the man's chest and abdomen are exposed.<br/><br/>"The deceased is a male Caucasian in his mid-twenties. Cause of death is clearly..."<br/><br/>Dupond agrees with the assessment, but the cause of death is very peculiar.  A fist sized (10cm diameter) hole has been punched through the man's chest, right at the base of his sternum, and passing through to sever his spinal cord. The edges of the grievous wound are excessively charred, to the point where they are little more than ash. On the man's right forearm, half way between elbow and wrist there is a small wound about 3cm across. The tip of the man's left thumb is gone, with an identical sort of injury. A man with his hands raised in front of his chest in a defensive or warding posture might have taken all three injuries at the same time. With a metal probe from the instrument tray Dany ascertains that the ash zone is about 1cm. Beyond that there is a 0.5cm region of extreme heat damage. But beyond that no protracted heat trauma.<br/><br/>Anything generating enough heat to destroy flesh and bone utterly, or to turn parts of a body to ash, should have inflicted extensive heat trauma to the rest of the body. There can be no doubt that this was the result of X-technology.<br/><br/>A quick assessment of the rest of the man's body reveal a half-dozen minor issues. Paper-cuts. A bad tooth. A shaving nick. Tobacco stains on his fingers. Nothing that is in any way out of the ordinary.<br/><br/>Doctor Lutzow looks at Dupond with a sense of expectation, his question on Dupond's thoughts unspoken.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Wallace Aiden Burthold-Campbell<br/><br/>The effects have been tossed onto a gurney, no doubt as they were stripped from the victim. American uniform. Boots. Overcoat. Cigarettes (Lucky Strike, American). Four pink onion-skin paper envelopes with what look to be women's stockings in them. A common black-market commodity, so not unusual. A worn envelope with no address or stamp, empty, that may have held very large letter, or a bundle of paper currency.<br/><br/>His identity papers reveal him to be American, Sgt Edward Wilder, 213th Service Battalion, stationed at Templhof. He has a pass for entrance to the Eastern sector signed yesterday by a Capt A Bidwell.<br/><br/>There is a web-belt and holster with a Colt 1911 pistol. Someone has removed the magazine and placed it beside the pistol on the tray. There is a spare magazine in the canvas pouch on the side of the holster. The pistol looks under-maintained, there are bits of rust on it, common when pistols are left in canvas holsters for too long. There is no indication that the weapon had been fired recently.