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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 4:51:44 GMT -5
Dominic continued
1-Year, 4-months, 7-days, 22-hours, 11-minutes and 59-seconds ago
I wonder what the barstard wants now, Zane thought to himself as he headed in to chief's main office. He was pissed that chief had dragged him away from 'The Sopranos' it was his favourite bloody show! Whatever it is it had better be important, Zane mused.
Upon entering the office Zane found chief sitting at his desk but he had turned his chair around so that he faced away from him and instead faced the window. Dear God, Zane thought he's being melodramatic again. He hated that chief had these eccentricities about him, it unhinged him, sure chief would not suddenly shoot a loyal employee in the head just because he was having a bad day, or even a good day like his previous boss Eric Wilson but at least with Eric you knew where you stood, he was God and you were his prissy little angles. Chief on the other hand, well, dealing with him was infernality more complex.
"You wanted to see me chief?" Zane said in a respectful and friendly tone, a grave contradiction to what he felt on the inside.
"Sit down and shut up" came the reply from chief who remained turned away from him.
Obeying Zane did so and sat with his arms crossed, a sign of hostility.
"Do you know why I called you here today?" Chief asked the tone indicating he wanted an answer.
Zane sighed, "Well I guess..." but chief cut him down.
"Guess? Guess?" He said mockingly, "I don't recall asking you to guess why you are here. I asked you if you knew why you are here and it seems quite apparent that you do not." Unknown to chief Zane risked a quick look at his reflection in the glass, it was far from clear but Zane could just make out a smile. He's enjoying this, he thought; he likes having me at his mercy like a fish on a hook.
"I will tell you why your hear" chief began again, "last week a matter of great distress was brought to my attention. Information regarding a very serious threat to my hard earned wealth and power."
Zane's ears were going hyperactive, what was all this about was it some sort of test he wondered, does he want to see how loyal I can be? "Rest assured boss" Zane said, "whatever this threat is I'm sure me and the boys can handle it. I'll do whatever it takes."
With lightning speed chief span around in his chair, brought both hands together and said in a sly voice, "oh I'm so glad you said that!" Then he laughed out loud while eyeing Zane with intense scrutiny.
I think I had better look at my shoe, Zane thought, I have a strange feeling I've just trod in something very nasty.
After the laughing had died down chief pressed a button on his desk that Zane knew signalled a light to tell someone to enter the office. So it did not surprise Zane to see a stranger enter through one of the side doors, he was grey haired, possibly in late 50's or 60's.
“"My I introduce Mr A Stanford" chief said boldly.
It took only a second or two for the name to hit home, "not thee A Stanford?!" Zane gasped out. "The head of the New York Mafia?"
"Your both right and wrong" Mr Stanford replied, "I am thee A Stanford but I am no longer the head of the New York Mafia."
"Oh" said Zane, "have you... er... been replaced?" Trying his best not to sound patronising.
"No you fucking retard!" Chief shouted, "He's no longer head of the New York Mafia because there no longer is a fucking New York Mafia!"
"No fucking way!" Zane called back in disbelief.
"It's true" Mr Stanford said, "I saw several of the poor barstards die myself. I only survived the final assault by using a hooker as a human shield, they have something against harming the innocent."
"Final assault... they?" Said Zane confused.
"Perhaps I had better tell Zane the whole story?" Mr Stanford offered.
"Go right ahead, I could do with hearing it again anyway" chief answered. With a slight grating sound Mr Stanford cleared his throat before sitting down on a chair to the side of the desk. "I suppose it really started 6-months ago, at least that's as far back as we were able to trace it. They call themselves the Brotherhood, they'll not like any gang you've ever come across, I guess that's because there not really what you'd call a gang. They'll more like an underground army and they operate with machine like precision. They'll fanatics all of them, well at least those in the Inner Circle are. They'll lead by a guy that goes by the name of Reese. He's a pro, took out 8 of my best men and got out without so much as scratch. They have no interest in wealth or power, they seem to only have one aim and that is to rid the world of organised crime. It was 5-months ago that we first noticed them, their efforts to destroy us. At first we laughed, a bunch of worthless vigilantes acting tough, like a mosquito biting an elephant, there was one thing we hadn't counted on though, this mosquito carried malaria."
Zane could see the regret in Mr Stanford's eyes the look of a broken man overcome by self-pity. He continued though although recalling it caused him pain. "Before we knew what was happening they were right on top of us. They were so well organised it was as if we were fighting fate, maybe we were. We tried everything, we killed them, more came, we captured them they either found a way to commit sewer side or died during the interrogations they gave us nothing. However these were only the members of the Brotherhood from Inner Circle those who were true to the cause in body and soul. The members from the Outer Circle are a different story. They are employed based entirely on whether they have something the Brotherhood need. They might have a rare skill, know some information, be in a position of power or just have some hard cash. Those from the Outer Circle talked like they were on the fucking Jerry Springer show but they never knew anything of any real value. We tried to infiltrate the Inner Circle of the organisation many times but none of them made it, they would only make it into the Outer Circle or get uncovered right away, when that happened nine times out of ten they wouldn't make it back."
Mr Stanford had stopped talking and Zane chose that moment to speak, "I take it they'll coming to LA then"
"Yes there's not much left in New York" replied chief, "but unlike Mr Stanford I know they are coming and have time to prepare and unlike Mr Stanford I will not underestimate them and unlike Mr Stanford I have devised a plan that will allow me to keep one step ahead of this Reese and his Brotherhood." Chief paused for effect bathing in his own self-confidence.
"You know Derek Fisher." Chief asked Zane although it was more of a statement than a question and needed no answer. "What do you think his chances are of getting recruited into the Inner Circle of the Brotherhood?"
Zane thought about Derek, he was once one of the LAPD's finest officers, he record was golden, arrest after arrest he had pulled himself out of countless scrapes and had even won citizen of they year. However 2-years ago he had thrown all of it away. He had been working on a very tough case, it had been so much work his wife had left him and not long after she left he lost site of everything but cracking the case. Eventually he got all the drug dealers involved, some of them chief's men. Unfortunately for him, chief was able to bribe the corrupt judge into giving them short sentences. They were all back on the street by next year and things would have been fine had they not decided to humiliate Derek. They dumped a tiny baby, no more than a few weeks old, dead with a heroin needle in its neck on his doorstep. He lost control, found them and executed them without mercy. He was lucky, he was able to avoid prison by saying he was not reasonable for his actions 'temporary insanity' they said plus his spotless record. He was forced to leave the LAPD but it was not the last they had heard of him. About 8-months ago he resurfaced not as the good cop he once was but as a serial killer, a serial killer that only killed the worst kind of criminals. He was in hiding coming out once every few weeks to claim a few more victims, they could be rapists, dealers, gangsters or ironically enough serial killers. "Bloody high" Zane finally answered, "I think that if anything he's a little over qualified. To bad he's not on our side"
"Oh, isn't he?" Chief said with a smile and pressed another button on his desk. Another side door opened and in marched four heavily built men carrying something large between them. They reached the desk and chief said to them, "that's right just bung it down on the desk."
With that the four men dumped the dead body of Derek and quickly left.
"Impressed!" chief said to Zane loudly enjoying a certain zing in the air that thankfully was not the body, that had only been dead for a few hours.
"W...w...well" stammered Zane, "that was...unexpected. What are we going to do with his body now though, eat it?" Zane finished sarcastically.
"His body will be most useful in the operation, with it as a guide we can make sure the surgery matches perfectly."
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 4:53:47 GMT -5
Dominic continued
It hit Zane then, with the force of a tidal wave the full horror of chiefs plan and he knew with absolute clarity that he was to become Derek. He wanted to shout at chief, say that what he was going to be ordered to was unreasonable but the more he thought about it more he realised that it had already been decided. He would become Derek and for months maybe even years he would have to live a lie, not only that but the lie he would have to live would be almost unbearable a life of ethics and morals, the very thought sickened him. To refuse, Zane thought would mean death and for a brief moment he even wondered if maybe death would be the better option of the two. With a sharp and snapping tongue he asked, "were am I having the operation."
"Floor 62 section 2-B" said chief, relieved that obviously threatening had not been necessary. "But before you go there is one more item of business that needs to be taken care off." Chief turned to Mr Stanford, "have you bought all the information you were able to gather on the Brotherhood?" "Yes, as you requested, it's all in the brief case, but don't get excited we really didn't get anything of real value." Mr Stanford said.
"That's ok" chief shot back, "are you sure all the information is in the brief case?"
"Why yes, I wouldn't lie!" Mr Stanford stated firmly and angrily.
Chief smiled, "Excellent" he said, "just one thing left to do, with that he opened the drawer of his desk, removed a 9mm with a silencer and shot Mr Stanford in the stomach.
Shocked Mr Stanford fell to the floor while Zane looked on amused, he had seen it coming a mile off. The dying man looked up from the floor at chief, "why?" He asked.
"Because you knew to much and for the plan to truly succeed I can't allow any risks, there is also the chance you might sell the information to Reese or even foolishly try to blackmail me with it." Chief answered cold and calculated.
"But we had a deal, you swore that..." Mr Stanford stopped then and vomited up blood and mucus, as well as his lunch. "You swore that I'd get a plot of land in Spain, near the sea to retire to!" For a man on the brink he was putting up a remarkably good fight.
Chief shook his head, "you disappoint me Mr Stanford, doubting my word like that." He removed a photo from his pocket and held it to Mr Stanford's face. It showed an overhead view of a cemetery with the sea just visible at the edge, about half a mile away. With his finger chief traced a square out of the picture, "as you've guessed the cemetery's in Spain and this space is your plot of it, plenty of room for you to retire to." Chief laughed in his face then and the strength that had been racing through Mr Stanford disappeared completely.
Present Day
Zane was cool, relaxed and focused as his target approached him, he was not afraid for who clod be afraid by piece of wood shaped like a man. He open fired with his M-1911 Pistol and watched his shots hit home. Although he enjoyed handling firearms it saddened him just how sparingly he had been using them. For every glorious 10-minutes of bloody combat there was 10-hours of boring planning what was worse still is that even when he was shooting people he had to pretend that the act itself did not jive him intense pleasure.
The friends he had made, they were not really his friends they were Derek's friends, the man he had become. It had been so long he had started to forget what he Zane really looked like, what his favourite food was, what he had done in his past, sometimes either late at night just before he fell asleep or early in the morning just before he fully woke up he would really believe he was Derek. He had nothing; he was a non-person a snowflake resisting the onslaught of a blowtorch.
How could he go on, he asked himself. I have become a prisoner, but rather than a spacious room in which to walk his cell was flesh and blood, it was his body, oh how he hated to look at himself. It was as though the mirror was glass and he was gazing upon another man. But then he would look into his own eyes and he would have to bite his own tongue to keep himself from screaming.
The instructor came past and saw Zane's face, saw the redness of his cheeks and the damp soreness in his eyes. "Take a brake Derek, go topside and get a breather, you look like you could use it. Be back in 10, no make that 20-minutes." The instructor was a Vietnam veteran named Chris and although he he pushed his men hard he never asked more from them than he was prepared to do himself. For a guy approaching 70 it never cessed to amaze him just how able bodied he was.
On his way up he decided to stop off in one of the staff lounges and get a Budwiser, it was getting late in the afternoon. He decided to rest for a few minutes on the nearest couch; it had been a long day, just like the one before that and the one before that. He counted to ten inside his head and closed his eyes, he thought about what, apart from his loss of identity, he hated most about his assignment.
It was not really the work, that he could handle, it was not even the acting, he had acted all the time around chief faltering him, no what he hated most was the loneliness although he worked, ate and slept with a great many people he was still completely alone.
He also hated having to listen to Reese's speeches. On and on he went about how proud he was of then, about how they were working to make the world a better place, oh how it made him so sick. It was the naivety that angered him, as if they could really make any lasting difference to anything. Human nature dictated there would always be those who would use force, would kill to get what they wanted, it was life and he had accepted it. Hence knowing the truth he has seen nothing to gain by being on the weaker side. Even in New York that Reese had butchered, or as he put it cleansed had already re-established organised crime and with no Mafia to regulate the streets things had gotten far more bloody with dozens of small gangs killing each other making the streets less safe for civilians.
He was about do more internal moaning when he heard a familiar voice, it was Reese, he thought and he's with someone I don't know. Though he was in one of the staff lounges the walls of this make shift base were paper-thin. Leading against the wall itself he listened closer, excellent, he thought, now maybe I'll find out why he left in such a hurry.
A few minutes passed and before long Zane was hearing the final line of conversation between John and Reese, "Very well. This mission is timed, so you better be off. See you in 24 hours."
Holy shit! Zane thought to himself, Reese was sending John to go get chief's daughter, now! It was not due to happen for a few weeks, he had to warn chief! He got up and headed outside, he has thankful he had been given the chance to hear that. Once outside he walked a fair distance before whipping out his mobile and dialling chief's mobile, if I don't reach him in time, he thought, I'd be better off dead.
"Your daughter?" Dominic repeated although hearing it again did not make it seem any more real.
"Yes Dominic, her name is Clare she's Sarah's, you remember Sarah don't you?" Dominic made no reply to chief's question, he just stared at him, but his gaze seemed to chief to be passing through him and looking into his very soul. Chief felt uncomfortable and turned away before going on, "I'm happy Dominic, I have a... well a reason to live, all of this, I'm going to give it all to her one day." He laughed, "you should see her Dominic, she's so beautiful and she can even handle a gun well. I bring here all the time and I've taught her everything, do you know she killed her first man only last year, I had him beaten up and she blew his head off! I'm so proud of her Dominic and I've told her all about you, why the amount of times she begged me to take her with me when I went to visit. I know you'll love her two, why she even has your eyes."
Chief heard Dominic walking and turned to see him approach the fallen desk and open the top drawer.
"Dominic what are you..." but he stopped himself for he had seen what he was doing, he watched as Dominic removed the 9mm with a silencer from the drawer and point it at him.
"Traitor!" He yelled, torn between his feelings of loyalty to his brother and the anger that his brother did not return this loyalty. "I'll kill you, I'll shoot you in the head and spread your corpse all over the fucking office!"
"Bullshit!" Chief shouted back, "we both know, you won't be able to pull that trigger!" "I will!" Dominic cried out "you'll see, you'll look up from Hell and see!"
"Well go on then! Kill me, if your going to do it do it now and stop fucking around!" Chief replied in defiance. Dominic fired and as he did so his arm flew to the right causing him to miss by several foot.
"Fuck!" Dominic shouted and threw the gun to the floor.
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 4:54:38 GMT -5
Dominic continued
Before anything else could be said chief's mobile went off, the mobile had been on the desk and was now lying on the floor. Angrily Dominic picked it up and answered. "Yes!" He said sternly and right away Zane's voice came over.
"Chief is that you? Man I must be more freaked out than I thought, you sound different, anyway its me Zane and I've got some news like you won't believe! Reese has sent John to go abduct your daughter, right this second! His sources tell him she's at the City Centre Mall shopping with Sarah, you'd better get someone there ASAP.
"Thank you, you've been most helpful." Dominic said in his best imitation of chief's voice. He turned to chief, wide eyed and smiling, "its a sign!" He cried "fate has intervened made everything so clear, I can't believe I didn't see it myself!"
"What are you going on about?" Chief asked concerned.
"Why I was just phoned by angle, an angle called Zane. He told me something, seems John is on his way to the City Centre Mall to adduct your daughter! Don't worry chief, I won't let him, I'll reach her first." Dominic said.
"That's right" Chief said back "You'll protect her and when Airborn and Jim arrive they'll back you up!" Chief was worried but was confident that Dominic would be more than a match for John.
"You don't understand chief" Dominic said laughing, "I'm not going to protect her, I'm going to tare her fucking head off!"
"Your what!" Chief roared.
"Don't you see chief? It's the answer, I can't kill you, I could never kill you and so I have to kill Clare, it's the only way to make things right again!"
"If you harm a single hair on her head" chief began "I swear I'll..." But before he could finish he was cut off for Dominic had just given him a huge blow to the head. Chief fell to the floor in pain and shock, everything was messed up and he was completely disorientated. He felt breath on his face and then there was a voice at his ear.
"Oh just think how wonderful it will be chief, it will be back like it was, just you and me together against the world!" In horror chief felt Dominic stroking his cheek, "yes just me and chief, together, no one else, just us together for ever!" Then Dominic gave chief a second bash in the face as he passed out he heard Dominic saying, "I'm sorry chief, but its for your own good, your ill and I'm going to cure you. Believe me you'll thank me when its all over."
Chief woke to the sound of his mobile, in pain he reached over and answered, "Sir Arborn and Jim are here... should I send them in?"
"Yes" chief answered and went to meet them in the more relaxing office guests are sent into and he did business with, only a very few ever entered the main office.
As soon as he entered Airborn arrogantly spoke first "what do you want now?"
Before he could answer Jim started to ask a question of his own, "do you need..." Before he could finish chief butted in and gave them the facts, he was in no mood for small talk anyway.
"I need both of you for this mission... You're the best I've got right now... Zane tells me this 'Reese' is after something... Something I have... Something I can't let him get."
"And that is?" Airborn asked impatiently.
"My daughter... I need you to watch her." He had known the abduction was coming and had made folders in advance, he had hoped John would have been guarding her. After fetching and hading them to the guys he carried on, "I'm asking both of you do this because you're the best... Will you?"
After some more discussion Airborn asked, "where's your bother then?"
"He's gone on ahead" chief replied, since the truth was in fact none of their damn business.
"I wouldn't trust him with your daughter if I were you." Airborn said.
Even though chief knew Airborn to be right he still felt compelled to defend his brother, "shut the fuck up!" He shouted, "Whatever you may think of him when your around him or me you'll show the proper respect, got that!" Airborn shrugged, not really caring.
Chief was worried though, because even though he was sure he could bring Dominic round if only he could talk to him there was that tiny doubt. He wondered, if it came down to it, could I kill him to save Clare's life? He hoped he would never find out.
OOC: Bad news I got found out, I may not be able to post for a while.
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 4:55:26 GMT -5
Chief
OOC: Is'nt John married to Sarah? Well in real life he is...
Chief: *watches Airborn and Jim leave* FUCK *pounds his hand on the desk* What the fuck is going on here. Well Atleast nothing can go worse than this... *starts walking around* Of hell, what am I saying. I can just picture Reese and John, and the rest of there crew breacking into the building and killing off all my agents... Then Reese will be laughing, he'll let that sick fuck John blow my head off... But he would'nt come here.. He could'nt... He would'nt... FUCK! *Walks over to the window* I will not go down like this... Reese will not get controll... This Fucker is going to go down. He will not get the controll, I WILL KEEP IT FROM HIS COLD DIRTY FUCKING HANDS. And for John... Fuck... What about John.. He'll never stop till he gets me... I'll get him first.. Yes. I will get him befor he even gets... Me... What the fuck about that crazy bitch Dominic... I can't kill him.. But if I dont.. He'll do damage to me.. But how the hell do I stop him. *lights a cigar* I'm ready for them, I AM READY. *grabs a hockey stick and breaks it on the floor* I will get those pricks...
OOC: Shity deal Dominic. Hope you get back soon -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Reese
.OOC- Bad deal, man. Hope to get you back soon. Maybe a library or public terminal would be a good way? But one thing: I don't quite understand your use of Monitor. I should have posted a profile on him for you guys. Basically, he's really called that because he relays and monitors all comm traffic for the boss. So he's a right hand man, and very loyal; he wouldn't give away information like that. In fact, the entire Brotherhood in this scenario is not really a gang, but more of a semi-military unit established years ago to combat crime in the Big City. Over the years it lost its goal as the gang wars became stronger and more vicious. Now they all work for one solitary purpose: to get rid of the gangs altogether. But as I said, all my 'men' are very loyal and well cared for. I can understand using another person for short dialogues, but we shouldn't use another person's plot points. Its bad karma. -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Jim Doe
Jim and Airborn stepped out of the elevator onto floor 36. After a short bit of searching, they found room F-02. It was a small, claustrophobia-inducing room, obviously storage space of some kind before it was transformed into an armory.
Cody sat behind a small counter, reading a nudie magazine. It took a few seconds for Jim to get the young man's attention. "You're Tim and Albourne, right?" he asked. Jim and Airborn traded glances, then nodded sharply at the youth. "A'right, grab what ya want," he said as he threw them a set of keys.
The weapons were stacked on metal shelves behind a chainlink fence that went from floor to ceiling. There was hardly any breathing room amongst them, but Jim and Airborn managed to get it with only a modicum of difficulty. Jim decided to travel light, but dangerous. A holster and an Uzi sub-mach converted for full-auto fire made its way under his jacket while a derringer pistol slid into his right boot. He slid a folding knife in a small holster onto his belt and snagged a bullet-proof vest that had a "bounty hunter" stencil sloppily marked out.
He knew he'd look a bit bulky with all this under his jacket, but the way things were looking, making a fashion statement should be the last thing on his mind. Once the bullets started flying, the only part of him that anyone would care to look at was his face for identification purposes, and a black ski mask would take care of that.
Having gotten everything he needed, he turned to Airborn, who was still browsing the selection. He decided to check through his supplies one last time before while his partner finished . . . -----------------------------------------------------------------------
John Roberts
John was sitting in the black sedan in a parking lot, he had just turned off the ignition and pulled the hand break. He grabbed the green folder off of the pasanger seat and opened it up, looking at the photo of Clare. John almost felt sorry for this young girl but quickly remembered whos child it was.
Fuckin' brat. I should be snapping the little bitch's neck not abducting her.
John smiled, a twisted smile. He thought how beautiful it would be to see Chief's face after finding his daughters body; her fingers missing, arms dislocated, kneecaps shattered, her face beaten to a pulp, her head twisted in the opposite direction, broken bones piercing through her flesh and the blood.
So much blood...so...much...pain...
John suddenly felt sick. His heart pounding, a tendril of fear slithered into his mind. He looked at himself in the rear view mirror, a single tear runs down his check.
Oh god, what have I become. What the hell has happened to me?
John clenched his hands firmly around the steering wheel, thinking back what occured on the bus, the lives he had taken, destroyed...murdered. It's not the first time he has taken a life, he was after all a hired assassin before prison but that was business. Besides, the people he was assigned to take out weren't exactly inocent, far from it, but the people on that bus were.
The fact that he had murdered those people isn't what bothered him, it was the fact that he enjoyed doing it. The feeling he got from pulling the trigger and watching their bodies disintegrate from the onslaught was sheer exicitement. No, he didn't enjoy it, he loved, he craved it...he needed it.
John started breathing heavily.
The entire bus incident flashed through his mind. He could see himself pulling the trigger, he could see bodies dropping to the ground, blood sprayed up the wall, flesh and bone spread across the floor. It flashed through his mind almost as if it was happening in slow motion. He remembered the fear they had on their faces before pulling the trigger, they were crying pleading for their lives. Oh god he loved it.
John's breathing became faster.
Just the thought of pulling the trigger once more and ending someones life sent tingles of pleasure up his spine. He was in control, he decided who lived or died, it is his desision, his power, his...
"NNNYAHHHGG!" John moaned.
His breathing becoming more relaxed.
He looked down at his right hand, the mess he made was glistening from the sun, tears forming in his eyes.
"I'm so fucked up." John sobbed. -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Airborne
*Airborn stood stroking his chin thinking. If they were to be protecting someone a shotgun was a bad schoice as if she got took hostage he might have to shoot someone near her and the buckshot spreads wide and could hit her. Then again they would be inside a building all the time most likely and it seemed a good choice weapon. He looked at Jim and seen he choosed a good weapon for what they were going on.* Airborn: Descions descions? Jim What?*he looked confused* Airborn: Oh nothing. *He picked up a M590 combat shotgun. It hand no stock but a hand grip meaning easy to hide. He grabed a box of shells too. He then picked up a Colt 1911A1 .45. He felt it in his hand and put it in a bag with jim gear and his shotgun. He put some clips in there aswell. Needing something automatic he picked up a MP5* Airborn: Better go prepared. Ok lets go. *they headed down the the car lot and got into Jims car. He drove while AIrborn sat with the weapons in a bag on his lap.* Airborn: You think she'll be alright with us around her all the time. Jim: She will have to like it *he laughed so did Airborn*
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 4:56:16 GMT -5
Jim Doe
While City Centre Mall wasn't the tallest building in the city, it certainly covered more area side to side than any of the skyscrapers surrounding it. It sprawled nearly two regular city blocks, making it the city's only landmark of any real significance . . . a sad fact, Jim mused as he and Airborn pulled into the massive parking lot.
They decided to leave their bullet-proof vests in the car while they were inside, though they were still taking their concealed weapons. Unfortunately, the vests would be a bit too conspicous in the mall's crowded halls. They would simply have to hope that they could get in and get Chief's daughter out without too much trouble. According to the dossier they had read through, Clare would be with her mother, Sarah. Hopefully, Sarah wouldn't put up too much of a fight when Jim and Airborn came to collect her and the young child.
That's already far too much hoping, Jim thought. The variables involved in this job were starting to stack up, and that was making him worry. If Sarah or Clare made a big scene . . . if enemy agents showed up . . . if they couldn't find the girl and her mother . . . if those enemy agents had gotten there and taken them already . . .
Jim shook his head to clear it. This was no time to let himself be distracted by uneccesary worrying. Overthinking things like this had gotten him into trouble before, something he wanted to avoid.
Jim and Airborn finally found a spot to park and stepped out of the car. They hadn't been able to get a slot that was very close to the doors, another disadvantage that grated on Jim's nerves. They walked swiftly towards the building and made their way into the cool air-conditioned interior. Somewhere amongst the teeming masses of humanity was their target . . . and possibly their enemies as well . . .
OOC: Not very plot heavy, perhaps, but I've been kinda busy today . . . not much time to think up new stuff for this . . . -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Dominic
OOOC: Hi guys, I'm afraid I've got some bad news, a friend of my mums who knows a lot about computers tried for over an hour to get the new modem to work on my own computer and failed miserably.
Right now I'm posting at work, normally I only work one day a week on a Tuesday but this time I'm doing a Wednesday. I only have 20 minutes of my lunch brake left so I'll try to say all I want to say.
Scott, I'm sorry if you had a problem with my last post but I do believe I have something to say in my defence. Firstly I do understand that your gang is not really a gang but some sort of illegal army and my post did not really contradict that.
Secondly I think you misread part of it from this comment,
I admit the post is rushed and badly written, since I was trying to finish it before my mum got back, I failed naturally. Anyway what I want to say is that Monitor is not the double agent, Zane is. When I wrote this,
Scott Kyle Reese wrote on Fri, 31 January 2003 07:01
Basically, he's really called that because he relays and monitors all comm traffic for the boss. So he's a right hand man, and very loyal; he wouldn't give away information like that.
It was an email from monitor to Zane it said Monitor at the end because he was signing it like you do in an email.
The reason I made the post is because chief posted,
chief wrote on Tue, 28 January 2003 23:47
Chief: I need both of you for this mission... Your the best I got right now.. Zane tells me this "Reese" is after something... Something I have... Something I can't let him get.
Therefore I thought it would be necessary to come up with an explanation as to how the hell chief found about the mission and just who this Zane was. Since I didn't make Monitor a traitor, added to the plot and still left the Brotherhood practically untouched for you to develop I don't regret the post. However what I do regret is the rushed and unclearness of it so here is an idea that I hope will help.
When I get the internet back I will redo that part of the post (including the description of Monitor that I feel quite embarrassed about) and just give all my posts a grammar check as well as getting rid of these.... ?....horrible aren't they?
Now I do have one thing I'd like to ask everybody, although you may have been doing it anyway, could nobody post until I get my internet back? I just feel so strongly about this RPG especially now when such a important part is coming up and almost all the players will get to interact with each other. I should only be offline for a few more days and in the meantime we can all look forward to it. Hope that's ok with everybody?
PS thanks for the sympathy guys and well done for the excellent quality of your posts!
OOC: After all this waiting I am finally done! I declare this RPG back on! The post was not as funny as I was going to make it but to be honest the characters are not at the right place for humour, maybe later but right now I have to develop them better. In case you have not read my new redone previous post do so now since part of this post will not make sense unless you do.
Dominic headed out of the main office with large purposeful strides; he was a man on a mission. Within minutes he had gone down the elevator and was standing outside the skyscraper's main entrance.
He faltered, for though he knew what he had to do he was still unsure just how he would pull it off. He decided it would be best to think about it on the way there because he currently had a head start over Airborn and that other guy, Dominic tried to remember the name chief had said over the phone, Jim sprung to mind. Chief would send them to the mall, and he hoped that he could kill Clare and be out of there before they even showed up.
Stepping out into the road he hailed a taxi that would have knocked him half way to hell had it not stopped for him. "Jesus Christ man, what the fuck have you been taking going out into the road like that!" The driver yelled at Dominic as he climbed into the back.
"Take me to the City Centre Mall" Dominic said to the driver while his mind raced with all the possibilities. He thought about Clare and what she really meant in relation to chief. She was like a tumour he thought, a brain tumour that if not removed quickly would destroy chief altogether. He gritted his teeth and vowed not to let that happen, he would save him at any price.
However there was only vital flaw to his plan and it came to Dominic like the vague recollections after a night of heavy drinking. He brushed his hand over his chest to feel the complete absence of guns. Damn! He thought to himself, why had I not picked up the bloody 9mm I tried to shoot chief with? "Change of plans" Dominic said to the driver, "Take me to 22 Charlton Street." Muttering something about extra pay under his breath the driver turned around and went back the way he had come. Five minuets later the taxi came to a stop outside a rather grand looking estate.
Dominic exited the taxi and headed towards the door. "Hey! Just where the hell do you think your going you mother fucker! You owe money!" The Taxi driver balled through the window he had just opened.
Dominic turned and went back to the taxi, "sorry" he said, "how much do I owe you?"
"Well it comes to..." He never got a chance to finish for Dominic reached inside with both arms, grabbed his head and gave it a 180-degree turn. He then pushed the body over onto the passenger seat to hide him from all but the most inquisitive of passers.
Once again he headed towards the door and this time was able to press the buzzer. He had no way of knowing if the person was in or if they even still lived there, he was taking a gamble and he knew it. While he waited Dominic studied the front lawn, it had changed there was a severe absence of weeds and the dead apple tree had gone.
He shook his head, ever since he had got out he had felt it a strange feeling like he had suddenly been thrown forward in time, bloody 'Twilight Zone' that's what it is, Dominic mussed.
The door opened and he came face to face with someone he thought he once knew, the man standing before him now looked wrong, almost another person. He had lost his hair as well as weight, and rather than stand tall he was hunched as though the simple act of standing required a great deal of effort.
The man looked at him realisation dawning in his eyes, "Dominic? My God you haven't changed a bit! Please come in, come in!" The man said stepping back and gesturing with his arm.
"Thanks Simon" Dominic answered wearily unable to come to terms with the drastic change in his old friends appearance.
Noticing this Simon spoke, "yes I suppose I do look like shit, believe me no matter how bad I look I feel ten times as worse on the inside." He sighed, led Dominic into the living room and sat down on a large cushioned chair. He smiled at Dominic and offered him a seat but he declined preferring to stand. Simon rolled his eyes and stretched, "well" he began, "to satisfy your curiosity I'll tell you about it. 3-years ago my girlfriend at the time noticed a lump on one of my balls that shouldn't be there while giving me head, turns out I had...have cancer."
Dominic was intrigued for cancer was what chief had, true it was a different kind of cancer but it was cancer none the less. "I'm sorry to hear that" he said not really giving a shit, "chief's just been diagnosed with cancer himself."
Simon looked mortified, "chief?" He said to himself staring down at the floor, "not...chief?" he added.
"Its ok" Dominic said, "the tumour going to be removed today."
"They removed my tumour" Simon replied, "but it was too late the cancer had already spread throughout my body, I've had several other operations but they were unable to remove all of it. I've had to go onto chemo and half the time I don't even think its worth it for all the hell it puts me through."
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 4:56:59 GMT -5
Dominic continued
This was not good, Dominic thought, definitely not good. What if the damage Clare had done to chief had spread throughout his body and that removing the source would be insufficient. Then he thought of the chemotherapy, sure he was no medical expert but he did no a bit about it. The doctors put the chemo into you and the stuff began killing cells left right and centre, the hope was that it would eventually kill all the cancer cells while there was still a person left to fight for. His warped mind began to twist the information around, instead of visualising the countless millions of cells dying he instead saw people. Visions of death, war and all out genocide flickered in his brain like a candle. "Is chief going on chemo?" Simon asked.
A simile spread over Dominic's face he imagined himself as the initiator of the carnage. "Yes" he answered with confidence, "chief will defiantly be going on chemotherapy, I will make sure of it!"
Simon seemed to have been out at ease, "good" he said, "the city needs a man like chief to keep order, I dread to think of the hell that would brake lose if chief passed away." He shook his head then in an amused tone said, "So Dominic, just what are you doing here? I don't think it was to talk about chief health."
"I'm a little short on hardware, are there any guns you could...lend me?" Dominic asked.
Simon looked puzzled, "Guns?" He said. "Surly chief could give you anything you need."
"I need them quickly" Dominic replied, growing anxious, he did not want to have to kill Simon and although he was sure with a bit of talking he could make Simon understand why what he planned to do was necessary he just did not have the time.
"Ok" Simon said, relieving Dominic no end, "I had to give up my life of crime, because of my health, but I could never bring myself to throw away my old arsenal. Feel free to help yourself, better they're out getting use rather than collecting dust in my basement. You do remember the way to the basement don't you?" Simon said jokingly.
Dominic had no time to answer though and hurried down, once inside he scanned the large away of weapons. The selection was impressive to say the least there was everything from handguns to sniper rifles and rocket launchers. Remembering his difficult task at hand he chose appropriately. First he picked out two 9mm handguns and placed them in his chest holsters, they were for the tumour he thought to himself.
He then went to the assault rifles and picked out a Militech M-31al and several extra clips to keep him going. The gun is an over and under configuration with a 4.5mm calibre assault weapon atop a pump-action mini-grenade launcher that fires a 10-gauge three-inch shotgun shell. The liquid propellant action functions more like an old style gasoline motor in that a propellant and oxidizer are mixed in a firing chamber, then electrically fired by pulling the trigger, launching a 4.5mm copper jacketed bullet (50 grains), and cycling the action to feed the next round into the chamber. The 10-gauge, pump-action mini-grenade launcher is the Militech Mini-Grenade Launcher.
It felt good to have a gun that powerful in his hands and in order to carry it he acquired another holster that would allow the gun to hang at his waist. He then took a large trench coat off a hook to make it less obvious to the world that he was packing one big arse gun.
Then as an afterthought he popped a grenade into his waistcoat pocket, it might come in useful, he reasoned to have a little surprise up my sleeve.
Dominic ran back up and only shouted goodbye to Simon on his way out but made a mental note to see the guy later on when he had sorted it all out. It brought a smile to his face that he was not the only one who had been out of the business for a while.
He quickly got into the taxi, pushed the dead driver off the drivers seat and made a beeline for the City Centre Mall.
As he weaved in and out of the traffic his thoughts drifted to other things of happier times. He remembers the good times he had had with chief, when it had been just them against the world. The irony struck him then, that only a couple of hours he had been thinking the very same things. It was as though chief had murdered him when he had told him that horrible truth and shortly after he had been reborn.
The thoughts were so depressing Dominic tried to put them out of his mind, tried to think about something else, anything but nothing came. In desperation he turned on the radio and was subjected to Counting Crows rendition of 'Big Yellow Taxi' the words that came were like diesel to a fire,
"Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got till its gone!"
"For crying out fucking loud!" Dominic screamed and keeping one hand on the weal drew a 9mm handgun and shot the radio to pieces. "That's much better" he said to himself and replaced his gun.
As he drew into the massive Mall's even larger parking lot he was already scanning around for space. The place was tightly packed and with feeling of intense joy Dominic knew that therefore there the Mall itself would be packed.
It was then that the blood in his veins turned to ice he had just seen John! Not knowing what to do Dominic kept on driving and saw with relief that John had his eyes closed. In fact thought Dominic, he seemed to be bobbing up and down almost as if he was...that sick fucker he finished. He made a right turn at the end of the line and went back in the same direction, putting him at the back of John's car this time.
His mind was galloping like a runaway horse, what do I do? Do I take him out now and risk missing Clare or do I put him on hold? He considered the possibilities John was crazy, what he had just seen him doing proved it beyond doubt and he wanted chief dead. On the other hand Clare was killing chief right now and the longer he left it the more the cancer would spread. But then thought Dominic noticing that the section they were in was a far bit away from the main entrance and there was nobody close by, will I ever get an opportunity like this again?
No he thought, and slammed his foot down on the execrator. His speed increased rapidly, he put on his seatbelt then braced himself for the really stupid thing he was about to do. Turning hard the taxi slammed into the back of John's car causing every muscle in his body to cry out in protest. He watched the windscreen shatter before his eyes and the glass fall down like snowflakes.
In agony he got out, the only comfort coming from the fact that he knew John would be worse off. He had noticed that, in order not to restrict him movement, he had undone his seat belt that is if he had even bothered to put it on in the first place.
He peered round to see John's head on the weal, blood dripping down. Dominic grabbed him by the hair and pulled him upright, John remained silent, eyes closed.
He did not think John was that pathetic, after all this was a guy who the Government had once hired out as an assassin, that was assuming what John had told him in prison in confidence was true. He checked his pulse and felt a faint beating, never mind, Dominic thought and drew a 9mm, placing it against the side of John's head.
He was about to finish the job when he felt a strange sensation run through him, it was neither excitement or pity but something else something unusual. Betrayal that was it but why, he thought. Then the answer came, if he shot John now he would be betraying himself. Back in prison he had made a promise to himself, he would mess John up so much that it would drive him to sewer side. He could not back out now, he told himself it was one thing back in chief's office to tell him to get John killed but when it was him the feeling of betrayal was just to strong.
So he though, how do I turn this fucked up situation around to my advantage? He looked across at the glove compartment that had come open; he saw a pen and road map. Dominic took a step back and thought over again what had just came to him, "I so smart sometimes I even scare myself" he said quietly to himself.
With near superhuman speed he picked John up and took him over to the taxi and put him into the drivers seat. Then he shot the dead driver in the head and placed the 9mm in John's coat pocket. Then for the icing on the cake he went back to John's car and removed the pen and tore the cover off the road map. With care he wrote on the blank side of the cover,
My, oh my John what have you been doing with yourself? Not keeping out of trouble that's for sure, looking forward to seeing you again soon very, very soon!
Steven Bahr
After that he drew a crude picture of a stick man being raped by several other stick men, he was no artist but the picture was clear enough.
Dominic put the picture on the dashboard so John would see it as soon as he woke up, if this the prospect of going back to prison for another few years of hell don't make him hang himself nothing will, he thought reassuringly.
With one task done and another just beginning Dominic ran towards the Mall's main entrance.
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 4:57:47 GMT -5
Dominic continued
15-minutes Ago
"That was weird" said Zane to himself after, he believed, chief had hung up.
He looked at his watch, he had 10-minutes to go before he was due back at training. He looked back at the warehouse and to his surprise his hand started to shake. Peering at it he knew why, he did not want to go back there, he hated the place so much. In fact he thought, remembering a piece of trivia he had learned regarding the human, that if the whole thing was laid out flat it would cover an area roughly 15 tennis courts wide, if the word hate was written onto every part of my body after it had been spread out, in size 1 text from Microsoft Work it would only equal 0.1% of the hate I am currently feeling for that place right now!
He glared at it and then spat on the ground, he wanted to go back home his real home so badly but knew it was impossible. What if I told Reese the whole story, he thought and offered to help set a trap for chief by giving him false information, would he spare my life and protect me from chief or would he just see me for what I am a disgusting, morally repugnant criminal and kill me on the spot?
Zane looked down again at his watch, he had 5-mintues he had to head back now but instead broke down and began to cry, he slammed his fist on the floor and put the other one over his eyes.
Slowly though Zane got back on his feet and headed back, every step was difficult like he was walking on hot coals or towards the electric chair.
As he walked he wiped his eyes not wanting to cause any problems when he got back, he looked up at the sky and saw the sun getting low and he could make out a thin trace of crimson. But soon he was inside again, the walls felt tight as he went down the stairs and after a while he began to choke.
Terror consumed Zane's soul as gasped like someone at the peak of orgasm. He slipped and went crashing down, over and over every step hurting more than the one before as his body started to turn itself inside out.
When Zane opened his eyes he was on a beach, the sand tickled his neck with the sea lapped at his legs. He looked up and saw a white cliff face and a gull hovering over him. Funny thing was though that it was stairs not a cliff he had fallen down, it was not the sea but blood, his blood, that lapped at his legs and there was no fucking gull hovering over him just a fluorescent light.
Using the wall Zane worked himself to his feet, trying to block out the cracking sounds that came from his chest and other parts of his body he would rather not think about. Next came walking and to be honest I've seen newborns walk with more balance and confidence than Zane does I'll tell you that for nothing.
Finally after an entirety he enters the computer room and sees Reese sitting at one going through some files. Slowly he shuffled into the room, dripping blood on expensive equipment as he went.
Hearing the strange sounds Reese span around in his chair eyes widening upon seeing the state of Zane.
Before he could say anything Zane cried out, "Reese please help m..." sometimes people have trouble finishing a sentence, it might be a guy to embarrassed to ask out a girl, it might be a lady trying to explain the facts of life to her 5-year old son who had just walked in on her fucking his uncle, it might be an employer telling a dedicated and hard working employee that they just have to lay them off because of cut back and it could even be doctor telling a patient that the test came back negative, your not percent but you do have aids. Yet as valid as all those excuses are for not finishing a sentence Zane had an excuse that was better than all of them, he had passed out.
Dominic reached the main entrance and with grin stepped inside, he breathed in the hot stale air you get in big malls and started walking towards the centre of the place with the most open space on the ground floor. You would think that he would be scanning left and right for Sarah for although he was not looking for her he did not know what Clare looked like and finding Sarah would be a step in the right direction. However he was not looking, instead his gaze remained ahead, transfixed on his destination.
Finally he reached it and for the fist time really took in the multitude of people there then he put his hands together as though he were praying, "its time for your chemotherapy chief...I know that one day you will forgive me for what I have to do to save you life." He whispered.
The hands came apart and Dominic removed his trench coat letting it fall to the floor behind him. They came fast, the screams of those close by, "He's got a gun!" A man predictably shouted causing yet more panic, although he was enjoying this Dominic knew he to administer the chemo, he opened fire on the crowd with the Militech M-31al assault rifle.
At first he used the guns primary mode of fire began falling down all around him as they were hit by shotgun shells, it was truly an amazing gun that fired shotgun shells at a rate of fire you would only normally see bullets half their size flying. He kept firing and soon he had spent the entire clip and so he switched to secondary and let a grenade into a shop window he had just shot the glass out of. He laughed as two people were physically thrown out of the window by the blast and after a quick pump fired another grenade at the main entrance reducing part of the row of door to twisted heaps of metal and glass. He knew he had no more than four grenades left and after decimating another shop decided to save the three he had left for the upper levels.
I've been told that the greatest chess players in the world can think dozens of moves ahead, if this situation at the mall was a game of chess and Dominic was a chess player than I could safely say he was by no means thinking dozens of moves ahead, in fact if you want to be exact about the metaphor he had just kicked the chess board over and then used it to beat his opponent to death with.
In the short term he was solid, but in the long term...he was fucked!
OOC: One thing Jim I know you said that Clare was at the Mall with her nanny but all the other said it was her mother Sarah so I'm sorry to contradict you, but I believe its best if it is Sarah.
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 5:01:45 GMT -5
Jim Doe
OOC: That's odd . . . I don't remember anyone saying who she was at the mall with. That's why I made up the nanny . . . I guess I just must have missed mention of Sarah being there. Anyway, if that's the way you wish it, we'll go that way.
IC: The first explosion did more than catch Jim and Airborn's attention . . . it nearly flattened them with an onrush of humanity that suddenly washed towards them in a mad rush for the doors.
"What the he-" was all Airborn could get out of his mouth before he and Jim had to break into their own run for a small Chinese restauruant sitting on their right. They both vaulted the low counter at the same time and nearly landed on the poor cashier, who was huddling on the other side. Jim and Airborn both had their pistols out before the cashier even had time to scream. She scrambled away from them as quickly as she could while they slowly poked their heads out to check the situation.
It was just then that the shock of the second explosion hit. The two men quickly ducked back under . . . the explosions were far off in another part of the building, but there was no use in taking chances. One of the running idiots out there might see their guns and decide to be a model citizen by taking a foolish and ill advised swing at them.
"Dammit!" Jim cursed as he grinded his teeth. "I KNEW this would happen!" He ran the scenario over in his head and could only come up with one solution. "Airborn!" he said, a bit sharper than he had meant to be. "Go back out to the car and get the vests!"
"What about you?" Airborn yelled over the sound of a third explosion.
Jim grimaced. "I'm going to see if I can find the girl!" he yelled back. "Get my damn bullet-proof vest back to me before I get shot or I'll kill you!"
The fact that Jim's threat didn't make any sense didn't faze Airborn, who well enough understood the seriousness of the situation. He nodded curtly, then quickly checked the situation on the other side of the counter. The crowd had started to thin out a bit as they managed to squeeze out the secondary entrance, so Airborn jumped back over and bunched in with them as they trickled out.
Jim, meanwhile, had put his pistols back in their holsters and pulled out his submachine gun slightly. He didn't pull it completely out from under his coat so that people wouldn't see it when he emerged, but he knew that the time for subtlety was rapidly coming to an end. He crawled his way back over the counter and started making his way across the food court. Enough people had left the mall so that Jim could walk around easily, though trampled bodies and recently bought - yet now never to be used - purchases littered the floor.
Even with as much carnage as he was looking at now, Jim was sure that what was to come would be much, MUCH worse . . . -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Reese
Scott dropped Airborn's dossier as 'Derek' collapsed in front of the desk. He leaped out of the chair and knelt next to the unconscious man, checking his pulse. Nothing more than a fainting spell, but why did he look so harried? Possibly....? No, the man hadn't gotten that far into the organization; he wouldn't be trying to finish the mission before he at least earned Reese's trust. Unfortunately, 'trust' was something he didn't just hand out, especially to moles. He walked over to his comm station and flipped a switch. Then, he sat back down at his desk and put the mic pickup on his headset close to his lips.
"Medical unit to Central Ops, Main Office," Reese spoke into the intercom. "Come with a security detachment as well." The speakers had been soft, but audible, not enough to attract attention, save the attention of those he needed.
'Derek' still lay on the ground when six men trotted in precisely 58 seconds later, one with a simple patch on his jacket with the word 'Medic' stenciled on. The others were dressed in black and carried small silenced pistols, all holstered, but ready to be drawn any second. The medic immediately squated beside the fainted man and opened his medkit. He withdrew a small packet and shook it, then opened it under 'Derek's' nose. The man awoke with a start and sputtered for a moment. Watching him, Reese wondered if he should dispense with the man altogether, or give him a chance to explain himself. He decided quickly.
"Sit him in that chair until he comes to," instructed Reese, indicating the guest's chair directly in front of the desk. With the help of a security guard, the medic situated 'Derek' on the aformentioned chair. "Will that be all sir?" asked the medic.
"Yes, he looks as if he's coming around nicely," Scott said, throwing a glance at the man in the chair. He looked groggy, but the alertness was coming back into his eyes. And the fear. Reese could sense that 'Derek' somehow knew that his cover had been blown. He reached under his desk and pressed several button, then got up and walked to the file cabinet. 'Derek's' eyes followed him; He was almost fully awake. "Uh..." was all he could mutter, but Reese interupted him.
"You don't need to wonder anymore. I know who you are, I've known for some time now, I just needed to find out who you worked for before I took action." The news hit Zane like a lightning bolt. He suddenly seemed more like a child with his hands in the cookie jar than a trained killer. "Honest, man, I don't know-"
"Can it, Zane. Yes, I know who you are," Reese continued as he found what he needed and withdrew it from the filing cabinet. It was another dossier, with the name 'Zane Jefferies' on it. (OOC- I don't remember Zane's last name, or if he had on at all, so I just made it up.) He opened it, and, sliding Airborn's out of the way, sat it down and withdrew the necessary information.
"This," he started, watching Zane out of the corner of his eyes, "Is a copy of your fingerprint data. Very sloppy, Mr Jefferies, not bothering to get these changed. As I have already seen on this page, there is no mistaking that you are Zane Jefferies. You see, when we hire someone new, we just don't say 'Howdy, nice to see you, we've got a job for you' without a second thought. No, the person undergoes a rigorous background check, without even knowing it. Even John has been fingerprinted, scrutinized, and filed away into my databank. You were no different." He held up the page with the Zane's fingerprints, the name emblazed across the top.
'These documents came straight from the governments own files!' thought Zane. 'How did he get these?!'
Reese continued. "We lifted your fingerprints the first day, and within ten minutes, we knew who you really were." He smiled, a gentle smile, yet with a hint of deadliness behind it. "At first, I considered simply having my men take you topside and putting a bullet in your head. But then I realized that I didn't know the reason you were here, and I decided that to take such radical action was unfitting to a man in my position, not when I don't know the facts. So the question remains: What are you here for?" Reese leaned forward, his eyes blazing. The security men stood behind Zane, waiting for the order that would let them take the man's life, or the one that would spare him. It all depended on Zane's answer.
OOC-Sorry, my post is a little sloppy, I did it a little quicker than I'd have liked. As soon as the action moves back onto you, Airborn, I'll continue with the plot you PMed me about. ----------------------------------------------------------------------
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 5:03:08 GMT -5
John Roberts
John enjoyed the feeling of warm water hitting his face, weting his hair and running down the rest of his body, it was soothing...relaxing. One of the few things that helped John take his mind off of this place, forget his troubles, pretended that he was somewhere else...someone else.
Only a couple more minutes and they'll come for me. Back to my cell...back to reality
John looked around him, noticing for the first time that he was completely alone in the showers, no one, not even a guard watching. Strange, but it didn't bother him. John closed his eyes and leaned his head forward allowing the warm water to cover the back of his neck and run down onto his shoulders. He sighed as the water continued down his back and finally dribbling through his bum crack. He could feel the water entering him, spreading him apart, forcing it's way into him. It wasn't water it was...hard...and it was painful.
John snapped his eyes open and saw two other men beside him, holding his shoulders firmly and forcing him face first up against the tile filled wall. Unable to move, John tried to speak but was cut off by a stab of pain thrusting into him, causing him to yelp. Two more hands from an unseen figuire gripped the sides of his buttocks as it pulled out of him only to be pushed back into him harder, deeper than the last. John clenched his teeth as he felt himself tearing apart from the onslaught, he moaned in pain with each thrust...faster, it pumped into him, almost lifting him off his feet...pushing him hard into the wall. John screamed...
"ARRRRRRGGHHHH!!" John was sitting up, his eyes wide open in a panic. He took deep breaths realising he was dreaming. "Fuck...oh fuck." he gasped, trying to calm himself down.
His head was throbbing in pain much like a head ache only worse, all most as if someone had taken a bat to his scull and hit a home run. He clutched his face with his hand trying to subdue the pain but all he felt was something wet. He pulled his hand away and looked at his palm. Blood? The fuck?
His forehead was cut up and bleeding rapidly, covering his entire face in blood. John's mind buzzing, trying to remember what happened, what caused him to black out...why was he bleeding. He looked at his suroundings, realising he was still sitting in the drivers seat of the sedan...only...it was different. The windsreen was shattered along with the side window but that wasn't it, the entire enterior has changed...was different. He looked beside him and saw a face stairng back up at him, a face of a man, a face of a dead man. A gaping hole was visible on his forehead with blood and bits of flesh sprayed along the seat, evidence of a bullet forcing it's way through the man's skull at point blanc range. The way the body layed across the seat didn't look right to John. The head...it had been completly twisted around. Somebody had defenetly wanted this man dead. John felt something heavy pressed against his chest. He reached his hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a...
A gun? Wait, did I do this?
The thought echoed through his mind searching for a answer. Had he killed this one? Did he have another breakdown and went berzerk on this man? The answer wasn't there, he couldn't be sure of what he did or didn't do. He couldn't remember.
I've lost it...I've finally lost it
Broken pieces of glass from the shattered windsrceen settled on the dash, a torn piece of paper spread neatly across the glass. John could see something written on it.
A message? From who?
He quickly grabbed the paper and red the short note, a twisted smile spread across his face as he finished. The last few words of the letter burned into his mind; looking forward to seeing you again soon very, very soon! Steven Bahr John's eyes started twitching, smile disappeared and replaced by a phycotic snarl, his mind racing, re reading the last words.
Look forward to seeing you...
...soon...
...very, very soon...
Steven Bahr
Soon...
very soon
Bahr
Soon...
...soon
Prison... PRISON!
John's mind snaped, his sanity seeping through his subconscious. All thoughts disappearing as one word rang through his mind.
PRISON!!
He was going to go back to prison. They were coming for him...to lock him back up...to take away his life again.
Prison. No
Prison. NO!
PRISON! NOOOOOOO!!
His mind srceamed at him causing waves of uncontrolable rage building up inside of him. No! He was not going back to prison...never...he didn't care how many he had to kill...who he had to kill. Himself...he would rather kill himself than go back. If he was dead no one could touch him...no one could lock him up. Free...he would be free.
Death.
With shacky hands, John pressed the 9mm against his temple.
Death. Yes
Death. YES!
DEATH! YESSS!!
John's mind went silent, all thoughts faded away, his hands were no longer shacking. His mind was at peace. A satisfied smile spread across his face as he gently pulled the trigger. -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Airborne
*running with the crowd made him angry. They ran out like headless chickens crushing anyone in there way. A old women fell over so Airborn picked her up and carried her out before placing her on the pathment outside. Most were out by now but he felt like pistol wiping them for being so stupid as to crush people. With the old lady safe he ran to the car and tried to open the trunk only to find Jim had the keys.*
Airborn: Oh shit....*looks around* sod it..
*he pulled out his Colt .45 and blew the lock off and flung the trunk open. He hoslted his .45 and took his trench coat off and put on the vest. He made sure his hostler was at his side so he could still grab it. Its large and bulky size made it uneasy to wear and brought back memories from old days. He picked up the MP5 and clips and put it across his chest like a policeman would wear. Easy to grab and fire. He grabbed his M590 shotgun and swung it across his back and grabbed the shells and placed them in his trench coat pockets.*
Airborn: ok time to go.
*he ran back inside people looking at him as he ran past. A bullet proof vest on with another one hung over his arm and weapons sticking out of his coat. They didn't attack him. They most likely thought he was a cop or FBI agent. He ran back through the doors and back to were Jim was last. He seen him at the bottom of some staris going up so ran to him*
Airborn: Here Jim. I also brought you extra ammo. Jim: oh yea. Thanks. *he began to put the vest on* Airborn: He must be up there somewhere. The shots are close. By the sounds of it, its a assualt rifle or something. Maybe a grenade laucher attachment as well. Very dangerous.*he said looking at Jim almost loving it* Jim: Yea we should stick toghther and take him on. He or she must be after Clair aswell. Airborn:Ok *he gets the MP5 in his hands and knocks the safety off* lets do it. You take point. Jim: Huh? Airborn: oh..you take the lead. Jim: Now I know that *he said smiling and ran up the strais with Airborn behind*
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 5:04:46 GMT -5
Dominic
Jim Doe wrote on Tue, 11 February 2003 07:50
OOC: I realized something . . . I don't know what Chief's family's last name is!
Ok because of chief's short posts, not that I am in any way cross with him since what he does post is never bad, it has been left with me to develop much of chief's character and back story.
Originally his name was Paul Scott (John came up with the name) however later on when chief set up Roughton International to cover his increasing finical assets he took a new identity and a new name, Simon Layton. He uses this name for all his legal work and for his privet life with Sarah and Clare, at least the legal bits of his privet life, as you know Clare it already turning into quite an evil bitch.
However even in the criminal world he never uses his old name only his nickname chief not that his more trusted employees don't know his real name in fact Dassa was taking a hell of risk revelling chief's name to John, if chief ever found out, well it would not be pretty. In chief's mind if a bad guy was to talk to him using his real name and not chief it would be a show of disrespect and worthy of trip to see you relatives, your dead relatives.
Another thing on that front, Scott I know the Brotherhood have resources but making sure there are absolutely nothing to link chief to Simon is something he is almost fanatical about after all if it became public not only would he lose Roughtons International but it would put Sarah and Clare at great risk. Therefore you will not find out the truth just by asking Monitor to do a bit of snooping the whole thing was far, far to important for chief to leave any stone unturned.
Finally I must give credit to Sam Lee who's character the Kingpin from 'Spiderman' I have been...er...inspired by.
Right now for this,
Jim Doe wrote on Tue, 11 February 2003 07:50
OOC: Also, what country is this taking place in?
This takes place in LA (Los Angeles) in the old US of A. I set it there in my first post because quite frankly it was the best decision. While I would have loved this to be set in London like in 'Lock Stock' and 'Snatch' since I'm the only one from the UK I thought it would be too difficult because of all the cultural differences. While there is an Aussie (John) and Canadian (chief) and I don't know where you are from (thanks for the 'really' helpful profile) as well as my British origins I think all of us could pull it off in LA far better because all of us have seen US films and TV.
Lastly,
Jim its great that you're going to develop your character but can you do me a favour? One of the truly great things about this RPG is that all the characters are different, currently Jim is without a doubt the most sane and level headed due to his care free attitude and his lack of reason ability It is Jim simplicity that makes him worth reading after all deep and meaningful character development and plot are great and I love it but too much of it can be mind numbing.
All I'm saying Jim is don't go overboard because the last thing this RPG needs right now is another fucked up or just emotionally unbalanced character to slow things down.
Anyway he's your character so feel free to completely ignore me I want you to do what you think will be the most fun, since that is what this RPG is about!
Now for you Scott, regarding your last post, I'll be honest I was a little pissed off about it. You took a complex and interesting sub plot and ruthlessly stamped on and crushed it. I would not mind this if I thought there was a good reason for it but to me it seemed as though you were not showing me respect,
Scott Kyle Reese wrote on Mon, 10 February 2003 04:14
OOC-Sorry, my post is a little sloppy, I did it a little quicker than I'd have liked. As soon as the action moves back onto you, Airborne, I'll continue with the plot you PMed me about.
It feels as though you just wanted to solve the problem as quickly as you possibly could so that you could get on with these ideas with Airborne, like I'm in your way or something why chose that point to suddenly integrate him? Why spend all that time waiting for the guy to revel who he was working for by accident to just sit him down and ask him? If that was all you were going to do you could have done that right away. Or at least put a bug in his shoe or something to spy on him spying on you. All that time and all the information he got out of you for you to just do what you could have done right away.
Another problem I had was that you seemed to ignoring realism to get your way. Granted I had not mentioned altering the fingerprints on file in my post but that was only because I did not think it would be necessary. Chief's intelligent, he knew all about the strict checks that were done from Mr Stanford who had tried and filed to infiltrate the Brotherhood several times. The idea that he would not change something so obvious as fingerprints is ludicrous. Chief might as well have asked Zane to ware a bloody sign on his head saying,
Hello I am a mole please tell me your secrets so that I can betray you
Since chief is not only a powerful gangster but the CEO of Roughtons International, a multi-national corporation means he would have the influence to make the necessary changes in even the most protected of Government files.
You could have been clever and instead wrote something like this,
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 5:06:24 GMT -5
Dominic continued
"Can it Zane. Yes, I know who you are. You were good oh you were bloody good! Monitor went through an entire jar of coffee trying to find something, anything, he found nothing."
"If you've found nothing, why do you insist on these ludicrous accusations? I've worked hard for you, I thought I had found somewhere I belonged" Zane was calm on the inside, he knew he was as secure as Brittany Spear's bra strap, they had said so he reasoned a look of false betrayal on his face. "Oh there is just one thing" said Reese smiling, would you 'sign' this bit of paper?" Reese handed Zane the paper and a pen.
Zane took the paper and pen, he was on edge because he had spent weeks perfecting that very signature. He signed it and handed it back to Reese.
Taking the paper Reese went to a filing cabinet and removed a file, out of this he took out a standard tax form Derek had signed. He held the paper to the sheet and all could see the signatures were as close as human ability would allow identical.
"Well" said Zane, "what's the fucking problem?"
"Oh I don't know" said Reese scratching his chin, "maybe its just the fact that..." Reese leaned forward quickly and shouted, "That Derek is left handed you stupid fucking retard!"
I think that would have worked better, it certainly would have been more interesting but you know what I'm not going to ask you to change your post, what's done is done and I want to move on and in my post chief had got Zane's fingerprints changed but Monitor was able to hack the computer with a worm and find out they had been changed, but because of your willingness to get rid of Zane I have thought up the one and only post I could make that would completely put the spanner in the works, enjoy!
The new clip had been inserted and Dominic was doing he best not to become sexually aroused by the killings going on around him. I have to be professional he told himself, I'm a doctor giving chief his chemo, I have to remain alert or I'll mess up!
I have not even found the tumour yet he reminded himself, removing her will be difficult, I don't think anything less than 12-bullets will be enough, a bullet for every year she has infected chief's life. Rage filled him as he opened fire again frustrated that so few people were left on the ground floor. Seeing one women in the distance nearing the top of the stairs that would lead her to the secondary exit, for thought he was on the ground floor the slop of the ground made the stairs necessary.
As Jim neared the top of the stairs he heard someone approaching and so stopped gripping his gun just in case, Airborn did the same. The women appeared 8-steps above Jim and then he watched in horror as she was torn apart before him. He tried to step aside but was too slow and the bloody corps fell on top of him, he lost his balance and fell, luckily being farther back had given Airborn enough time to leap out of the way as John toppled past him.
Along the way Jim uttered nearly every swearword known to modern man before coming to rest on the floor. Airborn came down too and much to Jim surprise went strait to the unknown women instead on him. He got up slowly rubbing his back and walked over to Airborn who was down on he knees next to the women. "So young" Jim heard him say, "late teens perhaps." As he got closer he saw Airbon was stroking her hair and then he closed her eyelids with his fingers. Watching him Jim thought back to earlier, when he had seen that Airborn had been crying, what is his problem Jim thought. Sure it was nasty and he would never murder innocents without reason, but damn it shit like that happened in their business. If you can't take the heat get out of the fire he thought.
It was then that Airborn turned round to face him and Jim was greeted by something that shocked him far more than that women had. Airborn's face was read and every nerve was standing out from his neck and face, his teeth were gritted together so hard the seemed to be working their way lose from his jaw, "I'm going to kill that mother fucker right now!" He roared and ignoring strategy or risks charged up the stairs weapon fully exposed and ready to kill.
However he only made it up the first 2-steps before everything went dark, do I mean he went unconscious? No, I ,meant that everything went dark, or to be more specific every light in the mall suddenly went off plummeting the place into near total darkness because not only were their few windows but it was starting to get dark outside. To make a bad situation worse the sprinkler system came on drenching Jim, Airborn and Dominic in freezing cold water.
The reason this happened was because Dominic's last grenade had landed in a carpet store and started a fire. While the sprinklers were obvious the reason behind the lights was that all the power had been cut of so that the electricity would not make the fire any worse.
Dominic had been shooting up at some people on the second floor at the time that had dared to try to come down so they could get out. He was pissed off but also slightly amused, "how can I work in theses terrible conditions?" He said to himself in an over the to 'ER' style voice.
He decided to head up to the next floor to try to find Clare and kill anyone else on the way. He holstered his assault rifle, it being next to useless in the darkness and drew his one remaining fully loaded 9mm handgun. Now that sight was so limited stealth had become more important and he began going up light footed as he could, even though the assault rifle did keep banging him in the leg.
"To hell with the vests we should have brought umbrellas and some flashlights" Jim said jokingly.
Zane had never felt so many different emotions at the same time. He was shocked confused, angry, upset and frightened. What was about to happen dear reader is the end result of two of the most arrogant men in the history of the world trying to out do each other and I'll be honest neither of those men is Zane.
Chief had been arrogant in assuming that he could devise a completely foul proof plan, the tern foul proof comes not because even a foul could not wreck it but because only a foul would believe such a thing existed.
Reese had been arrogant in assuming Zane would revel who he was working for and had wasted 16-months and had sacrificed some important information, some of it more important that he was aware of. He should have given up and integrated Zane ages ago but his pride held him back he kept thinking, he'll slip up today I know he will.
The end result was something that would suit neither of the parties involved but then it was a fitting end really. The human mind is a complex thing you see, it has not manual, although some have tried and failed to write one and there are more things we don't know than do. Zane's mind had been tearing itself in half since he had started this assignment and his mental resolve had been weakening the fall down the stairs had really been the final gram to help tip the scales.
As far as Zane knew now he was, had always and would always be Derek. Every part of Zane's memories had changed somehow during the fall. There were plenty of gaps for while Zane's study of Derek's history had been extensive it was far from complete and his mind began making stuff up without his knowledge.
When Scott had noticed the fear in Zane is was not the fear from being found out but the fear of being mistaken for someone else, this Zane fellow who he now had no knowledge of. The fingerprint data had shocked him because he could not believe what was happening to him, someone had set him up and Reese had believed it from the start, or maybe thought, its Reese that is setting me up it was after all him that approached me to join their underground army.
Reese had asked him a question "...what are you here for?" Zane was certain there was only one answer he could give. With a calm level head, although he had difficulty focusing after the huge fall. Before he could get a word out though he felt a rush of pain, stronger than the pain he was already in, serge through him and his was violently sick on the floor.
Reese sighed, he could not help but feel pity for Zane for had was depending on your point of view blessed or cursed with a conscious. It was this that set him aside from Zane, he had compassion and while he was certain Zane deserved all the pain he was in he also knew it would be wrong to take pleasure in his suffering. Justice was his game not sadism and he decided to be patient, after all Zane was not going anywhere.
"I came here" Zane began again, "because you invited me, you told me I could help you make a difference and I wanted to help you rid LA of organised crime."
Reese stared open mouthed and I'll tell you why. Reese had a gift, not x-ray vision or the ability to fly buy a gift none the less. He could tell when someone was lying to him, it did not matter if the person was lacking in ethics, Reese could tell. Every subtle change in tone every movement spoke volumes to him. What stunned him was as impossible as it was Zane was not lying, he knew he wasn't.
Reese looked Zane dead on deep into his eyes an in a deadly serious voice asked, "what is your name!"
"You know perfectly well what my name is" Zane said, "its Derek, D.e.r.e.k ok?"
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 5:08:05 GMT -5
Dominic continued This was not supposed to happed, Reese thought, he was never wrong, but the facts had to be believed didn't they? He also realised that while he knew Zane, or was it really Derek was telling the truth now he had also known that Zane way lying before about being Derek? "You can't be Derek" he said at last, "Monitor checked the fingerprints they had been altered. He was content to give up but I insisted he look to see if they had been tampered with on the basis of the gut feeling I had about you. He found Derek's fingerprints, his real fingerprints and they are not yours and your prints match a gangster called Zane Jeffries who was last known to be working for crime boss Eric Wilson before he was taken out by a rival so spare me all this and tell me who your working for."
"I am working for someone" Dominic said causing Reese to sigh with relief, "I'm working for you!" He finished shouting.
"That wasn't funny Derek...I mean Zane" Reese stammered.
"Ha!" Zane said, "deep down you know I'm telling the truth! Maybe those fingerprints changes, we planted, maybe someone's trying to set me up? Come on think about it there is just as much chance that that's true than that I'm some double agent?"
Reese was wavering, Zane, Derek whoever the barstard was had a point, the fact that the files had been altered and were not left untouched like they normally were with moles from armatures did bring their reliability into question, for all he knew they could have altered the files twice, once to remove the real ones and replace them with what he currently believed were Derek's prints and then put the original ones back making them look like the fakes, they could even have taken out the hardware from the computer itself so the fact that the replacements were there to begin with would not have been picked up by the worm. Reese took a deep breath and looked at the man in the chair. There was one thing he did no and that was that his morals prevents him from just taking the easy option and putting a bullet in the man's head whoever he was. It was not only that he knew he would be unable to live with himself for possibly killing an innocent man and not just an innocent man Derek was a great man, a man of compassion and drive, they needed men like him in this dark world. Also if he took that one steep would he ever be able to go back to the way things were? Would he start taking the easy option more often, would he slowly become the thing he hated, corrupt and heartless? What the fuck am I going to do? Reese thought to himself.
OOC: Told ya, you can't get rid of Zane that easily -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Jim Doe
IC: Jim grimaced as bright white light filled his vision. He jerked a hand in front of his eyes to block it out, and waited impatiently for them to adjust. When they did, he quickly scanned around him and took in the situation. The lights came from, of course, the various emergency lights that sat here and there along the walls of the mall. The sprinklers were still pouring down their artificial rain and shadows still loomed everywhere, making it seem as if everything had been transported into a completely different, much less friendly world. Only a few of the mall's customers were still milling around inside, all of them with dazed looks on their faces, probably trying to decide whether they should go back to running, or just wait for someone to come and help them.
Guess they're SOL for now, Jim thought. Now what's Airborne doi- shit!
Jim had just enough time to reach out and snatch Airborne's jacket before he went charging up the stairs again. All the bruises that were starting well up on Jim's body from his trip down those very stairs started complaining about the sudden movement, but Jim ignored them and yanked Airborne back around to face him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jim asked.
"I'm gonna kill that bastard," Airborne said as he strained to move away. Jim jerked him back before he could go anywhere.
"Not like that, you're not. That's suicide," Jim said. He saw the shift in Airborne's eyes, and made a quick decision based on it. "Alright, look," he said, "this is how we're going to run this. We're going to take this guy down, but . . . BUT, we are going to do it in a more orderly fashion than running right up to him and getting ourselves killed. He's going down, and I promise you that unless he gives me no other choice . . . you get the kill shot."
Jim sighed inwardly in relief as Airborne's eyes shifted from complete homicidal/suicidal rage to something a bit more focused. Airborne nodded sharply in agreement, so Jim let go of his coat.
"Okay," Jim said as he pulled his Uzi from its holster. "The last of the gunshots came from here on the first floor . . . "
"I say we try to circle around, then," Airborne said, his voice once again steady. "We stay to the shadows as best we can and try to corner him."
Jim nodded. They were soon melded with the shadows where the emergency lights couldn't reach . . . the water splashed slightly as they stepped forward and their boots were starting squeak on the wet tile floor, but it was the best stealth they could hope for under the circumstances.
This wasn't going to end pretty, but Jim certainly hoped it would end fast . . . -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Airborne
*They made there way around the walls as quite as possable. The shooting had stopped making it eerily quite and only the waters spalhing down around them made noise.*
Airborn: Ok i'll go up this side and flank around the left. You take the right side. We'll meet in the middle platform where the large fountian is* Jim: Ok, take care. Airborn: Same to you. *they both departed. Airborn slowly, hugging the wall, made his way up the stairs at the far side of the mall and onto the next level. The emergency lighting was casting odd shadows and making it hard to make out what was what. He went pass a shop window when someone fell forward infront of him making him aim his MP5 at it. He laughed to himself, it was a dummy.* Airborn: what a dummy, hee. *he then heard mumbeling not far away and slowly crept forward and hid behind a small sitting wall and looked through some bushes growing out of it.* Airborn: I had a feeling it was that sick git.*he cursed when he seen dominic just go out of view and onto the next level. He now had a choice, go after him or what for Jim. What was he to do? He slowly made his way forward and under the stairs. Chiefs girl was in alot of danger and time was now running out.* -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Chief
OOC: Damnit, why Simion. Its a British name. I know 1 Simon, and he's British. BTW, John called me Paul Scott, because it is my real name. Also If you wanted me to do a profile, I'd be happy to. I may make short posts because I can't realy write good story lines, but I can make a profile. I'm not that stupid.
Chief: *starts walking towards the elevator* Is the Limo ready? Secratary: Yes sir. Are you planing to be out for a while? Chief: Not sure... not sure... *Gets in the elavator and presses the button labled U-3* DAMNIT! *The elevator opens* Limo driver: Where to Sir? Chief: Just drive. Anywere, I don't care. *sits down* Its not going to be like this. I'M THE ONE WITH THE POWER. NOT THEM! There nothing... NOTHING. *lights a cigar* Its not going to happin like this... Its not... *puls out his 9mm and puts it against his head* NO *throughs it on the floor of the limo* What happened... Life was good.. I had controll, I STILL HAVE CONTROLL! And if I loose it they all loose it.. *looks outside where the Limo is passing a play ground* There life... so simple, not a worry in the fucking world... They don't care what goes on, they just have fun... Not a god damn worry.
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 5:09:14 GMT -5
John Roberts
OOC: A change of direction.
IC: AMANDA SPELLING was casually sitting at her workstation, sipping a cup of coffee, waiting for her next phone call. It was only 2:30 in the afternoon and she had already recieved twenty two calls and all of them were high emergencies. She has worked here for four months and still finds it hard to believe how much crime is in this city. She was a country girl at heart, she had spent the first twenty years of her life growing up on a farm, living in a town where everyone knew each other, a place where even a minor crime was unheard of.
But here... She thought, five minutes can't go without somebody tryin' t' kill someone else. That's Good ol' LA for ya.
She looked around the large office she was sitting in and watched as some of her workmates responded to calls. Amanda didn't know everyone here yet and she had often yelled at her self for not trying to but she was a shy person. Always has been, she was even shy around her own family back on the farm. Being around people just made her nervous, even sitting in this office surrounded by others was giving her goosebumps. She nearly toppled off of her chair when she herd someone talking to her.
"Hey, Mandy, what's up girlfriend?"
Amanda looked at the desk next to her and saw a black African, American woman leaning back in a chair, smiling at her. Her name was Mellisa, the only person she had made friends with. "Ummm...nothin's really...up at the moment." Amanda replied, still having trouble understanding all the street slang.
Mellisa giggled at her response, "It sure has been a heluva day, I can't even scratch my ass without my phone going off."
Amanda almost blushed at the way Mellisa freely used curse words. "ummm...yeah, same here, it's been really busy."
"So, girl, what ya got planned for tonight? Feel like going at there and getting lucky?"
Before Amanda could reply, Mellisa's phone rang out. She quickly put her head phones on, gave Amanda a wink and and answered the call.
"Hello, 911 emergency...yes...mam are you alright?...Mam? I can hear gun fire, are you hurt?......Where are you calling from?..."
Amanda's attention was pulled away to her own phone ringing, she placed her head phones back on, took a deep breathe and answered, hoping to all hope that it was a wrong number.
"This is 911 emergency, how may I help you?"
A terrified voice was on the other end, a man, almost screaming, "OH GOD, OH GOD HELP ME! HE'S KILLING EVERYONE!" Loud explosions could be herd along with other people yelling and screaming with fear. Amanda's heart nearly stopped when gun fire rang out.
GOOD GOD!
"Wuh-where are you calling from, sir?"
No answer.
"Sir? are you still there?" her heart was racing, praying for a response. The phone was silent, all she could hear were distant screams and more gunfire.
"SIR?!" she pleaded, almost crying.
Phoom. Phoom. Phoom. The flicker of flash photography.
Phoom. Phoom.
He sighed as he pulled the camera away from his face, disgusted of the scene before him. Blood was spread across the floor, sprayed up on the windows and all over the seats. Four shattered bodies were sprawled along the floor, their insides hanging freely out of them. The camera man thought he was going to be sick.
I hate my job
A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing it. He turned around and saw that the person was a man, he had a detective's badge attached to his jacket. The detective smiled, "Jack, you don't look too good, why don't you get yourself a coffee and finish here after, huh?"
Jack stood up, tucking his camera under his arm. He smiled back, trying to hide the queeziness that washed over him. "I'm fine...I'm just..." he closed his eyse and hung his low, feeling ashamed with himself, "I just don't have the stomach for this anymore, Brian. Maybe the boys are right, maybe I am well over due for retirement."
"Hey, don't be like that, old buddy, all you need is a good, warm cup of coffee. You'll feel much better, trust me." Brian smiled, trying to reasure his long time friend.
Jack sighed, he allowed his shoulders to drop in defeat, obviously not convinced, "Yeah...maybe."
Brian watched as his friend slumped his shoulders and slowly walked to the front of the bus and walked down the steps through the open door, look of hopelessness on the old man's face. He had known Jack near on twenty five years and had always known him as a man that took pride in everything he done, especialy his work, but now, ever since he lost his wife two years ago he became broken, always questioning eveything he does, ready to lie down and die. He was the complete oppisite of the man that Brian use to know. His wife's death hit him hard.
Brian sighed and turned his attention to another man who was standing over one of the victims, he was examining the wounds that caused the death. The man looked away from his examination and nodded at Brian.
"Awww, Detective Irons."
Brian nodded back, "Steve. What have you got for me?"
"Four caucasions, one female, all killed by close range with...what looks to be a 12 guage. Once I get these bodies bagged and down town for a proper emamination I can confirm it."
Brian nodded again. He looked down at the corpses, and staired at the blood and blown off flesh spread around them.
What a mess. Brian thought, Another gang related incident? Or just some nut who didn't want to pay the bus fare.
He was broken from his train of thoughts by a young officer rushing into the bus, a look of urgency on his face.
"SIR! Dispatch is calling all units to the City Centre Mall, there's a shooting in progress."
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 5:10:57 GMT -5
Dominic
OOC: chief take it easy ok, it really does not matter what your false name is since it has only been used once by me ages ago. I did not know it was a British name and thought it was multinational. Just pick another one and that will be your new false name, the one that Sara will call you by, Clare will naturally call you Daddy, or Dad.
Since Scott has yet to get back to me but I don't want the RPG to run away with out me I will leave Zane and concentrate on Dominic.
It was calming the water that ran Down Dominic's neck and back from the sprinklers. Like being caressed by a young girl, with soft virgin hands, for a moment he paused on the stares while he fantasized then the thoughts took a more serious tone, young...girl, he thought, Clare! He moved his tongue over his teeth, after I kill her I'm going to take a large bite out of her pretty face he thought with perverted glee.
He was nearing the top of the stairs now, his head could see over the top and the gun was shaking in his hand from the excitement of the death that was to come.
"Drop that fucking gun right now you God damn son of a bitch!"
That voice, Dominic knew it, had heard it not long ago the sound of it made him mad but he was not about to throw away his life, chief needed him. He knew that right now Airborn would be pointing a gun of some sort at his head and even though he was a good shot, he there was no way in hell that he would be able to turn around, see where Airborn was standing, aim and shoot quicker than Airborn could just shoot.
He dropped the gun; it fell onto the steps and bounced down to rest somewhere on the ground floor. Then he turned slowly to face him making out the shadowy figure at the bottom with what looked like a shotgun pointed at him. It was difficult to tell in the darkness, while the emergency lights had come on would have worked better on a Christmas tree for all the detail they revealed.
Dominic knew then that in order to turn the tables he would have to use the part of his body he liked using most, his brain. "Just what the fuck are you doing Airborn?" He said in an amused voice.
"It's a matter of honour and principle" Airborn said, "something a monster like you would never understand."
Had it been lighter Airborn would have seen Dominic's eyebrows raise, "try me" he said.
"I would never shoot a man in the back" Airbon answered, "not that it really matters with you since your not really what I would call a man."
"I see" said Dominic, "do you think we're 'that' different?"
"Yes" Airborn said sternly.
Dominic smiled, "you think because you only kill criminals that makes you some kind of untainted saint? Think of the families you've broken, those 'evil' rival gangsters you've taken out, don't you think they might have had children of their own, don't you think they might of have been people just like you? Lives you took away for money. I hate your kind Airborn, your good at what you do but don't have the stomach for it, what's the matter afraid you'll actually start enjoying yourself?"
"You shut the fuck up!" Airborn shouted growing tense.
"Deep down your no different than me Airborn, you've just got a little farther to go before you can except who you are." Dominic said continuing his assault.
"I am nothing like you! I don't butcher civilians for no fucking reason and I never will! The only reason I've not wasted you already is because I was worried about the repercussions from chief, but once I tell him what you've done to those people and how you planned to kill his daughter he'll understand and see it was necessary."
Airborn was about to fire when it hit him, laughter from Dominic strong hard "you poor misguided foul" Dominic called out, "you really think chief cares about those people? There nothing to him like stones on a beach more get washed up every day. As for Clare, do you really think I'd harm my own niece? Tell me did chief not say I had gone on ahead?"
Dominic had taken a gamble; once he had been able to read chief so well they would often go hours without talking because they knew what each other would say. But he remembered that was 14-years ago a different chief almost but as far as he knew the old chief would not have revealed their privet information he would have lied and just told them that I gone ahead not wanting me to get shot he thought.
Airborn's gun remained level though, "I should kill you anyway" he said, "if not for chief then for those out here, and for all the people you intend to kill up there."
"If it makes you feel better, it wasn't me who killed all those people" Dominic lied.
"What?" Airborn said surprised, "who did then?" "John of course!" Dominic said continuing his lie, "you've seen the barstard in action, I heard you over the phone, what he did in that bus. Dominic was cross he wished the lights were on and that they were closer so he could see into Airborn's eyes, to see if he was buying it.
There was silence and all could be heard was the rushing of the sprinklers as if they were trying to fill the void with small talk. "I heard what sounded like an assault rifle with an attached grenade launcher" Airborn said at long last.
"That's right!" Dominic said loudly growing in confidence, "that's what he's using, he ran up to the second level, I was about to go up their myself before you came alone. Come on we have to go quickly or we may lose Clare!"
"There is just one small thing I'd like you to clear up first" Airborn said with a concerned tone.
"Yes what is it, quickly!" Dominic assured him.
Airborn started, "Well if what you've told me it true..."
"Which it is!" Dominic interrupted him.
"If what you've told me is true" Airborn said again, "then why have you got what appears to be none other than an assault rifle with an attached grenade launcher hanging from your pants?"
That ladies and gentlemen was when the shit hit the fan!
It was only a split second, one of those split seconds that seems to stretch, like at a football stadium when a player scores and the crowd have not yet cheered, like when you burn yourself and the pain has not hit you yet.
In this split second several things happened at once, Airborn opened fire on Dominic luckily for him striking his heavily protected chest. The reason Airborn had missed his head was that Dominic had chosen to throw himself off the top of the stairs onto the unsuspecting Airborn.
Contact was made and they both went crashing to the floor, the impact reduced for the both of them by the 2-inches of water that had collected there. What happened then was a struggle, a fierce struggle for possession of the shotgun.
"You don't understand!" Dominic shouted through their thrashing around, "if I don't shoot Clare and most of the people in this Mall then chief will die of cancer!"
In response to Dominic's insane plea Airborn delivered him a hard blow to the chin.
Crying out in anger Dominic gave the shotgun a hard pull and wrenched it from Airborn's hands tossing it to the side. He then forced himself down onto of him, using his size and weight to his advantage and with both hands pushed Airborn's face to the floor, submerging his mouth and nose below the water while Airborn swung his fists madly trying to hit something.
OOC: Sorry to put you in a tight spot Airborn, but a fight would not be very exciting if you allowed a player to react to everything, in fact if that were the case you could fight for days and not his each other! In any case you can't think of a way out Jim could come to your rescue, its just a race to see who posts first.
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Post by John Roberts on Oct 21, 2003 5:12:55 GMT -5
Jim Doe
Jim frowned as he moved through the darkness towards his and Airborn's agreed meeting point. With no one else to talk to, Jim fell back on an old standby . . . talking to himself. As his eyes scanned back and forth along the mall corridor, his mind raced back and forth on how screwed up everything had become.
We should have brought silencers, he thought. We should have more than just the two of us doing this . . . damn that Dominic person for going on ahead . . . what kind of help is he if we can't find him, anyway? We should have left Chief's earlier than we did. We should've found out if Sarah and Clare had cell phones or something. We should have-
Jim stopped walking and stared. Sitting directly to his right was something that made him have the most wickedly wonderful idea . . . The hardware store was, naturally, completely deserted. Jim stalked down the aisles, occaisionally grabbing something from the shelves. A flashlight, a chisel, a small hammer, and a roll of duct tape all found their way into his arms. With his new aquisitions in hand, he made his way back into the main part of the mall and looked around until he found the perfect place . . . a small cafe.
It wasn't quite as uptown as a Starbucks, but it had padded seats and glass Coca-Cola bottles, which was exactly what Jim needed. Using his switchblade, Jim slashed up the arm of one of the chairs and pulled out the foam rubber. He grabbed one of the Coke bottles and emptied it in three large gulps. Now the real work could begin . . .
Using the chisel and hammer, he carefully split the Coke bottle in half, then used to duct tape to wrap the foam rubber and bottle pieces to the barrel of one of his 9mm. Jim grinned maniacally as he surveyed his handiwork. It would only last for one shot, but he now had a fully functional homemade silencer. Hopefully, he'd now be able to find the whacko who had been shooting up the place and take him out quickly and quietly.
Jim looked up and around, suddenly aware that something was wrong. It took him a few moments to realize that the sprinklers were no longer running, but that wasn't the only thing that had caught his attention. Out in the mall's main corridor, something was moving.
For a second, Jim simply assumed that it was Airborn, coming around to see what the hell was taking so long. Jim cursed inwardly . . . he always had a way of losing track of time when he was working on some big idea or other, even when he had been doing something life-or-death important before. But he realized only an instant later that it wasn't Airborn at all . . . there was more than one person moving around out there, and they were all moving just slightly less silently than death itself, barely detectable even to Jim's trained ears.
GodDAMNit Jim thought. It's the fucking SWAT team!
It explained quite a few things, actually. When the explosions started, mall security had probably started pulling back to the entrances to help people out of the building - for all the good it did them - which is why Jim and Airborn hadn't had any trouble from the rent-a-cops yet. The real cops had probably pulled up around the time the lights went out and the sprinklers went on. By then, Jim and Airborn had been far enough into the building that they hadn't heard the sirens. Because whoever had started this whole mess was using eplosives, the cops had probably decided it would be prudent to call in the SWAT team instead of handling the situation themselves.
Wusses Jim thought as he sneered in disgust. Regardless of his contempt, however, he still knew enough to be even more afraid for his own life than he had been before. Some crazy nut was one thing . . . a whole troop of professionally trained killers was quite another. The hair on the back of his neck rose up and his skin started to itch all over as he imagined one, ten, a HUNDRED little infrared scopes painting his head blood red.
Jim could only hope that Airborn was doing okay . . .
OOC: Y'know, this really should have brought this up sooner. Surely with all of this commotion and carrying on, the police weren't just sitting on their hands the whole time, neh? ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Airborne
*his mind raced a thousand thoughts. Shit he lived through 3 years of war when nost of his mate were killed and was wopunded twice. Once by a sniper in the chest and the other a greande fragemnt in his leg. After all that he was going to drown in 2 inches of water. He tried to press his head up but only managed to get his eyes up and see the ground in front of him. His lungs were begining to hurt like hell. Dominic sat on his back laughing louder and louder as Airborn struggeled harder.*
'SHIT SHIT SHIT I'M GOING TO DROWN ON DRY LAND' His mind screamed. Thank god his training in the Para's teached him to be able to hold his breath for long periods of time. But the oxygen in his lungs was almost up. He was starting to black out. He then felt it dig into his side. His Colt .45. Dominic weight shifted further down his back slightly meaning he was leaning back and the laughter grew louder. He was laughting his head off enjoying it. With his last ounce of strenght he moved his hand back and grabed his .45 and pulled it out and aimed and just fired it behind him. The laughing stopped and a high picthed scream was heared and the weight went off hi back. Airborn lifted his head up sucking in air and rolled on his back coughing and chocking from the sudden pressure relesae in his lungs.
" You Shot me you FUCK. You Shot ME!" Dominic raged holding a bloody hand to his thy. The bullet had gone straight through and he was not pleased.
" I'll make sure you suffer now you little prick. " Dominic picked up his assualt rifle and was abput to shoot. Airborn was now to weak to do anything but stare back.
Dominic then looked over at something. " No * he lowered the gun* lets let the SWAT team finish you off. Now excuess me I have someone to kill."
Dominc quickly as possable, limped off up the staris while Airborn coughed more trying to get him. He managed to sit up agasint the railings.
" Airborn, come on we have to get out of here!!!!" Jim was shouting from somewhere.
" Up here Jim." Jim came up some stairs and straight to him.
" You ok mate." He asked looking for any blood loss.
" Yea i'm fine but Dominic isn't. He's lost it and has gone up there after Clair. Go get him," Airborn struggled to say. His throat and lungs still hurt ", hes also hurt, a ,45 slug thorugh his leg so you got time."
" Ok but the SWAT is here, they'll kill us we have to go NOW!" Jim said again looking at the entrance were police units massed.
" I'll hold them off. I've got my MP5. You just get Clair. We'll meet up outside by Denny's across on 3rd street ok." Airborn said with a sad expression. He had to cover there escape but 1 man agaisnt SWAT was bad odds.
Jim didn't say anything else but nodded, shook Airborns hand and ran up the stairs after Dominic. Airborn stood up slowly, MP5 in his right hand and got some extra clips ready. It could,be his last deed before his judgement.
OCC: Trying to add some drama to my character. Don't think i'll kill him off, but I might....who's knows, watch this space. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Chief
OOC: Sorry if I seemed a bit harsh on you Dominic. I realy was'nt meaning to. Anyway... I'm changing the false name to Ryan De. Yes De. Said like D, but De. I'm bad at naming last names, and I need something I can remember
Chief: Take me to Hill Side park... Driver: Yes sir
[*Hill side park is next to Scout mountain, and Jefferson lake. Its a Larger park, and has everything from a small train to a sandbox*]
Chief: *looking out the window he thinks to himself*When will this end.. *He looks back out the window at the park enterence* DAMNIT *slams his hands down* Change of plans, take me to the City Centre mall. Driver: Are you sure sir Chief: YES. Take me there [*The limo pulls onto the highway and starts heading towards the City Centre mall*] If everything is ok; He thought. I might just beable to get in there and get Sarah and Clare myself. [/li][li] Chief: What the hell..... *looking at the mall* [*Small explosions can be heard, and the mall is on fire*] Chief: Shit.. [/li][li] Chief: Back to the office. NOW.
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