gotham_knocking | (no subject)

Amanda laughs amusedly, "Hardly, he's a friend of mine but hardly a hero. Rather infamous in his universe actually. Last of his kind, like your superman."

Her eyes scanning the place, spotting something that could be considered a spot she points, "How about that?"

"What you see, Bird?" His night vision is not so great, even with the spotlights.

"A spot over there." pointing to an opening between two other parked cars. Maybe she should lend him her night vision glasses. Amazing the toys you pick up when you visit other worlds, and yes she carries it in her purse along with other electronic goodies because you never known when they may come in handy.

He parks with all the skill of a NASCAR driver. Unfortunately, this is not Daytona.

Knox then locks the steering column, and puts on two anti-theft gadgets of limited use.

"There. That should hold...for ten minutes. Wanna see the wreck?"

Amanda chuckles as yeah she could steal it if she wanted to though he does have the who would want to steal his car going for him.

"That's what I'm here for, just like all the other tourists." hey Amanda has no qualms about being a tourist.

"Tourists? In Gotham? No one comes here. And I don't think anyone cares much about the bat outside this town. Joker's week of mayhem...it barely made the networks. Guess we're beneath Dan Rather." He snorts.

There are a handful of cops surrounding the wreck, as well as a few men in well-tailored suits. Half the plane is gone, as it's apparently being taken apart one way or the other.

With a hand wave, "His loss."

"Are those Feds?" she indicates, not points, the well-tailored suits. She approaches the remains of the wreck at this point less concerned with getting souvinors and more interested in the plane itself.

"Right the first time. I wonder which department. Not the FBI. Certainly not NTSB. Too nice.

"CIA? Military Intel?" Given what this plance can do, it makes some sense.

"Want to see if they'll talk to a pretty young woman checking the sights?" Knox is not above such stunts.

Maybe she has had some experience with such things, "Possibly ATF." she says.

Amanda is never above such stunts, "No harm in trying." she approaches them making sure to adopt an American accent. "Evening gentleman." flashing a bright charming smile.

"Yeah. That's a honking big firearm." He watches as she sidles over.

"I'm sorry, miss," a large man with a gray crewcut says. "This is a restricted area."

"Oh my restrcted. Sounds important. What is it?" she asks as if she has no idea. She is giving off a sensual, vurable, vibe as she speaks with them.

The Fed tries not to notice. He's doing a better job than Knox, watching from a distance.

"It's the Batplane, miss. Can't leave a plane in downtown Gotham, can we?" He gives a sly grin.

"I suppose not. It's nice of you to be getting it out of the way for us. Thank you Mr.?" she gives him an expectant look.

"Simon. US Marshall" He flashes a badge. "And I'm just a guard. Someone is doing the heavy lifting.

Yes, Knox thinks. The people who've lifted the parts on their before this guy and his buddies - whoever that are - arrived.

"Oh don't I just feel safe now." giving a curtsy, "It is a please to meet you, I'm Amanda." extending a delicate hand out with her fingers dangling downwards.

"What's it like being a US Marshall? Must be exciting. Bet you get to go to all sorts of different places and see all sorts of interesting things."

"It's a job, miss." He does not take her hand. He's a real pro. "They send me places, I do what I'm paid to do, I move on. It's not like in the movies." He does offer a tiny smile.

Knox keep watching, and also looks around the plane from afar. Another five days, he figures, and it will be gone.

Replacing her hand. "Still what a joy it must be to serve this great country of ours." she blushes (this one on cue), "I'm sorry I don't mean to pry it's just so exciting." it would seem to this man that she doesn't get out much.

"My brother is in the Marines, so you're talking to the wrong Simon about the honor of truly serving." And with that, he moves along.

"He's no marshall, Bird," Knox says. "I'm gonna have to work my sources on this one."

She watches him go off and for good measure she even gives a disappointed look in the mans direction before moving around to take a look for those souvinors that are supposed to be for sale.

When she hears Knox, "No kidding. I've never met a US Marshall that unenthusiastic about his job. Let me know what you find. If you like I can always take a closer look a little later. Maybe get some pictures." yes Knox would be very suprised if he knew everything that was in her purse right now.

[OOC: Do they seem to be letting people enter the church if they stay away from the crash?]

"You take photos? Wish I'd known that. Vale's still in Berlin, and she's lost interest in this story anyway." Oh, if only Knox knew why Vale left behind this case when she fell for Wayne.

"My guess is that someone really wants to get their hands on Batman's toy. And doesn't want anyone else seeing it up close. Which means that if I want to get some parts from the gray market, I'd better hurry."

He starts heading towards a row of seedy stores a block away. Behind, the police seem to shift as if Amanda posed a threat.

[ooc: I think that after the events in the film, the church is too dangerous to enter, never mind the cordon of cops I'd placed there.]

"Not the kind that are printed in newspapers." she clarifies.

She does but how do they know. Guess they have become that Jaded. Well no matter she will sneak back later when there are less people around. The lack of street lights will prove to be helpful for her.

The stores are all run down, grungy groceries and newsstands and clothing outlets. "Welcome to the heart of Gotham's economy. All the selection of a Soviet bazaar at American dscount prices." Each store has a similar sign...

BATPARTS HERE!

"Pick one?"

Looking around, "Just like the good old day."

Amanda points to one in the middle that has an interesting piece dispayed. "How about there."

The sign - barely visible in the grime - reads "Dave's" and it's impossible to tell what they sell.

"Looks like an actual piece of an engine. I hope he's willing part with it." They go in to the gloom of a nearly empty shop that is, to Knox's eye, clearly a front for a numbers racket.

There is a small smile that crosses her face as she enters, she too can tell such a thing.

"I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."