"Six-double oh-one, six-double oh-one."
Lynn sighs and activates the radio clipped to the strap of her messenger bag.
"Six-double oh-one."
"I've got two instants and a critical in your area, if you want 'em; otherwise I'm gonna give 'em to Kenny"
The rookie biker takes a long swig from her water bottle, adjusts her wraparound sunglasses and sighs again; from her position perched on the back of a park bench, she currently has an excellent view of two shirtless boys in baggy shorts playing Frisbee, running back and forth across the Grand Lawn.
"Ah, that's a negatory, Gary, let Kenny have 'em; I needs me some grub."
"Ten-four, Double oh-one, gimme a holler when you're done."
"Ten-four."
Lynn has the greatest job in the world; she spends the whole day outdoors, gets to stay in shape, and check out the shapes of the many guys of Freedom City, all while getting paid halfway decent. True, she has no insurance or paid sick days, but everything comes at a price.
Her stomach audibly growls, so she hops off the bench, grabs her bike and takes a spin around the park, eyes peeled for one of the many Sully's Kosher Red Hots pushcarts that work Liberty Park.