*old spy-film computer letter-chirp*
TIMESTAMP: Yesterday, 0435hrs Central Daylight Savings Time/0535hrs EDST
LOCATION: Outside Univlle, South Dakota, United States

Josiah "Tyger" Colquhoun sat up at he thought was the alarm clock's warning. Turning on the light, he saw his iPhone had just pinged.

"Oh... Who found What now?"

Reading in the early morning light, he swiped several screens, then stumbled 45 feet into the paper-strewn disaster that was the office of Warehouse 13 in his boxers and an ancient scrub top. Pulling over the desk chair, he began typing away, and read the new screen.

"Okay... so what do We know of that could do this...?" So asking the Ether, Josiah rolled backwards to a beat-up percolator and the coffee-stained porcelain mug beside it. The late 30s-mid 40s former factory worker poured black liquid into the cup, took the cup and rolled over to a wall-spanning Dewey Decimal System.

Drawers were pulled.

Cards were fingered through, and read.

The fingers and eyes stopped.

The drawer was closed, coffee was sipped and Josiah shuffled into the hallway. A filing cabinet drawer was opened, and there was more muttering and coffee-slurping before he found the file he needed.

"Found, Aisle D98 Section 481."

"Found, catalogued and in London."

"Lost, whereabouts unknown."

"Found, in transi--Wait."

Josiah reread the entry, swore in German, then walked into the office. He picked up an iPad-sized tin and opened it. When a face appeared in the little screen inside, Josiah began, "Arty. Get me a plane ticket and a Land Rover to the Valley of the Pharaohs in Tanis, Egypt."


*old spy-film computer letter-chirp*
TIMESTAMP: Tomorrow, 1021hrs Local ZULU
LOCATION: Archeology Dig-site, VALLEY OF THE PHARAOHS Tanis, Egypt

Josiah pulled up to the crest of the rise on the ancient WW2-eral BMW motorcycle. In the valley below were the usual assortment of tents, porta-johns, air-conditioned trailers, and pits. People in light, desert-colored clothing wandered about like ants over a bowl of sugar. Josiah pulled out a military-grade macrobinoccular and scanned the dig.
Spotting what he was looking for, the "Procurement Officer of Things Best Kept Locked Away" (as Josiah liked to call himself) sighed, "Welp... I guess I start there."

So saying, he put away the macrobinoccular, kicked the motorcycle's transmission into first, and slowly puttered down into the valley. He hoped and prayed to any god that would be fair for a procurement that wasn't "as complicated as last time."