The mailman found it in three days. The job posting hadn't been up on the board for more than an hour that morning and already dozens of townsfolk gathered for a glance. "Rumors of harmful radio transmission in the marshlands causing a large information black-out. $355,000 bounty will be awarded for successful shutdown." The bulletin was rarely ever used, usually reserved for advertising up-and-coming bands or the odd meetup. It was rare to see anyone stop and look at it, let alone 40. But an "official" FCC posting had made its way here. "Why don't they handle it themselves?" "Maybe they don't want to get shot by the hicks" argued a couple. "Damn feds can't get anything done" grumbled an older man, still staring at the posting. Most didn't clearly read what it said, they were all consumed by the price tag. A frankly ludicrous amount of money for such a seemingly simple job. Some people seriously considered hunting the bounty, it didn't seem dangerous in any way; maybe a bit of a hike, but the money would be more than worth it.

Lawrence, a courier bringing the days mail to the stores in the square, took notice of this crowd. He couldn't quite see what caused it, and, figuring he could circle back around later, left it to continue his work. His route that day around the square was divided into half in the morning half in the evening. Coming back for his evening run, he saw the crowd had dissipated, leaving only a small group of six men in strong discussion. He recognized a few faces from the original crowd, the posting must have successfully sieved them. Watching the scene quickly turn heated, with even a pair coming to blows. But saw it all instantly calm as a dark van backed in towards the group. Doors swinging open with each of the six men joining three others in the van. Lawrence couldn't see much of the van, other than a small stubby antenna array donning the roof.

Lawrence completed his run and went to the bulletin to see what caused the crowd. He caught a few words of the previous "discussion": radio, black-out and, cock-sucker. Figuring the latter to be unrelated he found the flyer detailed the harmful transmission. This was a life-changing amount of money to most, but especially to Lawrence. Having dabbled with radio as a kid, he had decided to call in sick and take on the job. He dropped-in and borrowed a small handheld radio from his techie brother; telling him about the posting and promising him a share of the bounty.

Waking the next morning, Lawrence took his sedan for the drive, opting to leave behind the company van. He didn't live close, taking him a solid half-hour to make the drive. He spent the time fiddling with the radio, discovering the scanning function and messing with it on the way. He found he could pick up police transmissions; listening in on what appeared to be rescue party communications. Unfortunately quickly discovering the source of it, as he found two police cruisers blockading the trailhead entrance. Being the only entrance Lawrence knew of, and with 355 grand on the line, he parked nearby and "snuck" past the two empty cruisers into the marshlands.