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Vincent Coll Vincent watches, quietly horrified, as the large group of extremely well-equipped mercenaries quickly and silently fall into position for a devastating ambush. Had he and the others really been slaughtering them like pigs all this time? The advantage of surprise, presumably--but Vincent still inwardly promises to scale back on how often he pokes this particular hornet's nest with a stick. "Sir, I am--I am at a loss for words. Clearly you have this well under control. I'll begin the call shortly--while I'd prefer you not piggyback onto the signal, as he has a talented hacker on staff who might spot you, I'll have the commlink on speakerphone so you can listen in. After that, I'll be crudely concealing myself in a second story window to be spotted, and then I'll be taking my leave." Walking to the back of the room, Vincent pulls the bloody bandage out of his coat pocket and wraps it around his face several times, taking care to conceal his supposedly damaged eye, then removes his coat and folds it up, revealing his blood-soaked and bullet-holed suit. With his handblade, he draws a few large, crude lines on the wall, suggesting an eye with a slash through it. "Urgh--terrible. Well, that's fine." Passing his commlink to Specs, he drags the chair in front of his impromptu logo and takes a seat, trying to look as desperate and haggard as possible. "Right, let's get this over with. <Specs! Make the call, start the camera.>"
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Feb 14, 2014 03:15
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Aguinaldo Avenue "Well these aren't vacuum cleaners," Smith says, thumbing towards his mechanical backpack. "I'll be close by, but out of sight." Specs loads up his video software (usually used for sending taunting communiques to Governor Culala) and puts in the call to Newport HQ. The vidphone brings up the image of a young, clean cut PA with a beaming smile. "Newport Group, how may I..." the young man stops midsentence and frowns when he sees the ragged entity on the other side of the lens. "...dirrrrect your call?"
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Feb 14, 2014 04:27
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Vincent Coll "To Mr. Newport, of course," Vincent says calmly. "He's got sixty seconds to take the call, or I'll go ahead without his input. Tell him Vincent Coll wants to speak to him, about his recent criminal activities."
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Feb 14, 2014 04:32
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Aguinaldo Avenue "Vincent Co..." the PA goes pale. "I'll uh... um... please hold." He switches off the screen and mutes the mic. 40 seconds later the video feed reappears, switched to Newport's office.  "Coll," the Brit growls coldly, face guarded, eyes skeptical. "I can see your decisions are paying off well. Those are certainly some salubrious surrounds you have for yourself, young man."
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Feb 14, 2014 04:52
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Vincent Coll "It's children who need to be coddled, Mr. Newport. A man comforts himself with his accomplishments. How are those coming along for you?" Vincent begins counting on the fingers of his right hand, the blade that had so recently taken the life of Waterhouse extended a half inch, glinting in the gloomy room. "You bought all those runners from the mainland. You picked up a number of new toys from offshore. You got terrorists to claim responsibility for an attack on a location over public radio, and afterwards the rebel leader escaped was released from a prison truck into the jungle. Fascinating! You'd think a man who had lost a hand would be easier to keep detained. I guess handcuffs were useless, huh. You got the opportunity to reorganize your security teams, including losing some employees it would have been difficult for you to fire. And you had me tied and put a sack on my head, to be shipped back to my enemies." Vincent pauses in thought, rubbing his lips. "Hrm... do you think it's still an accomplishment if you didn't manage to kill me? I guess it depends--tell me, Mr. Newport. Did the way you handled me bring you... comfort?" As he talks, Vincent struggles with the impulse to glance at Specs, to make meaningful eye contact, to waggle his eyebrows like a bad panto actor. The kid wasn't exactly filling him with confidence tonight, but Vincent had to make Newport think the man had Mad Dog's full attention.
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Feb 14, 2014 05:30
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Aguinaldo Avenue "Thank you, I already have a biographer. As for you, lad," Nigel leans in closer to the camera. "I believe I'll find comfort when you're in a prison cell. That is, I'd wager, the best you can hope for at this point. You would be aware that Governor Culala insists that anyone caught aiding the Hukbalahap be immediately hanged, and we do have some rather incriminating footage on that topic. Goodness, you have chosen your side remarkably poorly, haven't you?"
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Feb 14, 2014 06:07
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Storm row "Excellent," Stormcrow said, smiling. "This island is an unfriendly place. Best to have as many friends as possible, no? I'll let you know the instant I have anything on Coll, and I expect you'll do the same. Until then, keep your head down. Got a feeling things might be about to get ugly." He stood, wiring her enough Nuyen to cover both their drinks. "It is nothing solid, merely a feeling. But I am still breathing because I trust feelings like that. A pleasant evening to you, Miss Day."
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Feb 14, 2014 06:13
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Vincent Coll "The Governor, you say? Why, with an enemy like that, I'll never get credit for a down payment on my beachside villa! I'll be forced into a life of crime. No, I'm afraid that concerns about the legality of our actions isn't an issue for men like myself, who's belongings can all fit into an offshore account and a camper van. Laws are more the wheelhouse of people with mortgages, memberships in the neighborhood beautification committee, prudent investment portfolios... or corporations. No, my fair weather friend, it's you who should have thought about the law before establishing contacts within the Hukbalahap." Vincent points at one of the photographs behind the CEO. "Ah, loved ones. Truly, the only real treasure is family. Tell me, when you go to ground, will you drag them with you into the darkness, or will you simply never see them again?"
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Feb 14, 2014 06:33
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Ilya's "I hope you're wrong about things getting ugly," Mara chuckles. "But let's say you're right, I'll be in touch." Aguinaldo Avenue "Are you very stupid Mr Coll?" Nigel says, ignoring the prod at his family photos. "I mean, particularly so? I've had no contact with the rebels, beyond having my team deal with a half dozen of your erstwhile comrades when they attacked my property. You remember, it was shortly before you turned Turk and signed your own death warrant. It's not your credit rating that you need to concern yourself with, chap, that's hardly the worst of what the Governor's famously merciless forces can levy."
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Feb 14, 2014 06:53
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Vincent Coll "I don't expect you to admit any of this on camera, so why don't I just itemize what's going to happen next. I've got your paystubs, and they show some interesting employees--including a full time member of the Hukhalabap. I've got some correspondence from him, too. That may not be enough to convict, but when a dozen soldiers turn up dead, riddled with bullets from Newport weapons? That's a hell of an investigation. Half a day later I release the documents to the media showing transfers of security personnel to your desalination plant, just half a day before that 'rebel attack' from the Araknida destroyed it. That media circus is only going to worsen when, half a week later, it comes out that you knew the rebels weren't involved, and in fact had contractors secure the very weapon used to destroy that building hours before! And they're going to get financial documents showing the insurance policies you took out on the building about two weeks ago, along with the reports showing the machines there were in dire need of expensive renovations. I can't imagine any of the Huk are going to be pleased when they learn you were paying one of their cells to do your dirty work, so in addition to the law, the citizens, the world media, your bank, and your stockholders, you'll have not one, not two, but three terrorist groups competing with one another to be the one to avenge their brothers. Plus you just stole that doctor from Ares Macrotechnology--you know, the ones who had that cannon your team used? They've been suffering a lot of losses recently. Do you think they'll be interested in an audio recording of a contractor discussing a shadow operation responsible for those losses?" Vincent steeples his fingers in front of his face and leans forwards. "And while all of that sounds bad, none of it, none of it compares to what your worst problem will be."
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Feb 14, 2014 08:04
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Aguinaldo Avenue "Oh dear Lord." Nigel's face remains deadpan. "We have thoroughly overestimated you. "Just so I understand how this plays out in your head, okay, bear with me: You, Vincent Coll, known murderer and terrorist ally, with all the credibility of a used car salesman at this point, unearth this rock solid 'evidence' against a company which has recently taken out a bounty on you for the murder of several of its employees and the theft of several of our firearms, all caught on film. You present this evidence, and everyone says, 'well, certainly this chap could have no reason to tell lies about the company which is seeking his arrest! Let's surely trust a few documents that any child with a home printer could whip up in an afternoon, and which could be unearthed as fakes if we spent more than four minutes observing the files!' And Ares, apparently, decide they're going to go to war with me without bothering to run these files through an analyse program to determine their veracity. And then the Huks--who I must remind you I am already at war with, let's remember, are going to... what... double declare war on me? 'Oh ho, Nigel, you'll be sorry now, old bean!' the Huks will surely say, 'before we were just trying to kill your employees and blow up your infrastructure, but now we're going to... well we're going to keep doing that, so watch out!' "Okay. I think I understand your plan. Masterful. Truly. Be assured I'm quaking in fear. Please, do go on. I'm sure part two will be just as well considered."
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Feb 14, 2014 09:09
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Vincent Coll "Oh, I've got people lined up to reveal all of this. The only person who'll drop my name will be you, blaming everything on a mercenary you brought to the island, who's a known terrorist because you have footage of him, doing things in the jungle miles away from any independent observer. And while you're dodging calls from the corporate court, trying to smooth things over with Ares, hiring blood mages to protect your new toy from rituals to find him comfortably in your compound, giving press confrences, and sorting out the mess of your security forces without the head of security you decided you'd be better off without? I'll have nothing but time. I'm the best assassin you've ever met, Mr. Newport, but I won't be aiming for you. I'll be picking off your engineers, your janitors, your guards, your lawyers, your chauffeur. Middle management will have their throats slit in bars, routine patrols will disappear without a trace, repairmen will swing from nooses made from their own fiberoptic cables. Maybe you'll keep them all in your compound, trying to repair the ruins your infrastructure will become without leaving the walls, giving your employees nothing to do but share stories about how their friends are all dying, one by one. Because I'm not a disposable asset, I'm not a retired soldier, I'm not a lazy security guard or a washed up cop. I'm a god damned Shadowrunner, the real deal, what spirits and dragons worry about, and I certainly can't be stopped by anyone who turns to the cops for help." Vincent wonders if he's laying it on a bit thick. Was that even possible? Sure, about a third of those lines were lifted directly from those garbage trideo shows the Ancients used to watch. But then, he was trying to pass himself off as a stupid, dangerous animal that needed to be killed as soon as possible.
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Feb 14, 2014 10:11
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Aguinaldo Avenue "Ah, yes," Nigel clicks his fingers. "Your wide network of trustworthy contacts. Let's see, will this groundbreaking evidence be delivered by that one-armed rebel captain, or that trustworthy Huk hacker gent you freed? They're surely a pair to engender public confidence, by Jove! "Mr Coll, you're burned everywhere you ever worked. And the difference between your evidence, and my evidence, is that mine can be examined from now until Christmas, and all that will be revealed is that the footage I have is very real. Including, of course, this conversation where you have decided to explain all your plans to discredit me through clandestine sources. Very clever, Doctor No."
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Feb 14, 2014 10:43
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Noise, you're not long out of VR and just about to find something for dinner when you get an incoming message from Lo Pan. "I have the necessary documents," he says. "SIN, licences, matching biometrics. Ready to transfer as soon as you have the paydata. Any luck with the floorplans?"
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Feb 14, 2014 11:11
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Vincent Coll "You won't last until Christmas. And again--who will you show the evidence to? The police? Maybe you'll tell my mother I've been naughty." Contempt hangs heavy on Vincent's words. "You've got things you want to protect, but I don't. I only have things I want to destroy. And my evidence is only dangerous if if you have been paying rebel contacts and calling runs against Ares." "So here's the conclusion. You can decide the reason you hired me was to be the sordid criminal in your affair, and I leave Lagu Lagu forever. I'll have to go to ground for about half a year. At the rates you quoted me, two thousand a week, that's fifty two thousand nuyen, in my account in the next half hour. Or you can explain to everyone that you didn't really burn down a mall, that was the work of the scary man in front of the scary eye. And while you spend your time showing everyone how the pixels in the security footage you didn't show anyone a week ago of the jungle means that you haven't been sending mercenaries to kidnap people, I'll be spending my time killing everyone you rely on." Vincent folds his hands in his lap and leans back in the chair, doing his best terrible movie villain smile. "I'll be right here, watching my account balance. I hope to hear good news! <Cut the feed, kid.>" Vincent waves two fingers at his throat, signaling for Specs to shut it down. drat kid hadn't been of any use, just sat there without so much as a twitch. Well, maybe he'd be able to tell Vincent if he'd been traced after the fact. It would seem unnatural to draw this out any longer, and he'd rambled on with threats and nonsense for as long as he could, short of reading the names of everyone vaguely English out of the local directory. Do accounts in Shadowrun work that way? They never go into detail on how Runners actually get paid. Well, if they don't, that's just another part of my web of cunning inaccuracies.
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Feb 14, 2014 11:24
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I should probably roll some sort of social check, huh? If I get any bonus dice for my stated objective because I murdered his friend and threatened his family and am generally super killable, feel free to roll and reroll them for me, otherwise it's seven successes.
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Feb 14, 2014 11:27
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Aguinaldo Avenue Nigel leans back in his chair, the look on his face saying 'we are not amused' as Specs cuts the call. The hacker looks down at his comm, fiddling with an AR screen you can't see. "Yep," he confirms in Tagalog. "Trace is running, won't take them long to find us with this crappy spoof program I got loaded. They'll have us to within about a 50m radius." Newport HQ As the feed dies, Nigel opens the bottom drawer of his desk and removes a bottle of sherry, pouring himself a tipple, and presses the intercom button on his desk. "Ms Prescott, contact the team. Operation: Perfidy is afoot." The message reaches Natalya, Noise, Nail and Stormcrow just after 8pm. "Mr Newport has requested your urgent attendance on base," the officious chief of staff's text reads. "Consider this matter priority one, and come equipped for affray."
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Feb 14, 2014 12:09
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Natalya Natalya slept the sleep of the anesthetized. Medical anesthesia wasn't the best chemically-induced sleep you could get (and she had experienced several sorts over the years) but it was far from the worst (which she had also experienced). Her dreams were hazy and indistinct...flashes of Vladivostok, home, interspersed with jungle, cityscapes stretching out beneath her in all directions, concrete and glass towers... Vladamir Zokos opened his mouth to tell her something important, blood pouring down his chin, but she couldn't make it out. She groaned as the insistent chiming of her commlink finally woke her. Cracking her eyes open her HUD swam and flickered, a combination of residual anesthesia and firmware upgrades coming online. She had a slight headache and the inside of her mouth tasted a bit like the inside of an old shoe, but otherwise she felt marvelous, like a whole new person. No, not new...upgraded. Diagnostics scrolled across her field of vision as she ran through idle performance benchmarks and checklist sequences that had long since become as instinctive as stretching, and she hummed happily as she observed, and felt, the work that Herr Fritz had done on her. All of her cybernetics save her legs, from her datajack to the tip of her tail, had been overhauled using components that she'd acquired from the job at the airport. Top-of-the-line hardware and firmware modules had replaced more pedestrian fare, neural connections had been rethreaded, moving parts felt more responsive...it was everything she'd hoped for and more. A quick check confirmed the integration of the internal air tank she'd found had also gone smoothly. That left only the sleep regulator which, being bioware, she'd simply have to wait and see how well that had turned out on her own. The commlink continued to chime. She supposed she should probably answer it. Sighing and swinging her legs over the edge of the table she carefully stood, continuing to hum to herself as she grabbed the 'link off her harness and plugged the other end of the fiber-optic cable into her datajack. ::Yessssss?,:: she answered with a giggle, the lingering effects of the anesthesia leaving her somewhat giddy. No, wait. It was a text. Rolling her eyes she called it up into view, reading it over slowly. Urgent attendance on base...well that was convenient, she supposed. Priority one, whatever that meant, and equipped for affray? Oh dear, someone was in trouble she thought to herself with another giggle. Had she brought her Ingram with her or left it at the hotel? Oh right, there it was. But first...first she should probably get something to eat.
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Feb 14, 2014 13:40
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Noisechildren overboard posted:Noise, you're not long out of VR and just about to find something for dinner when you get an incoming message from Lo Pan. "Yeah, I've got them. Made a few personal notes on the file from what I remember about the place on my visits there - nothing exhaustive, but more than what the floorplans get you." A flashing ARO indicates an incoming text. After scanning it, Noise rolls his eyes. The steady paycheck is hard to argue with, but at least freelance work gives you time to sit down and eat. "Listen, my employer has his shorts in a wad and I gotta get moving. You have an encrypted node for the transfer or something? 'Cause if you need a physical handoff, it might have to wait for a bit." While waiting for a response, Noise packs up his full kit, leaves a note for Sparky, and stumps down the stairs to the waiting quad to head to Newport's rendezvous. As long as Lo Pan has some reasonably secure way for Noise to transfer the paydata, I'll go ahead and do so. Emerald Rogue fucked around with this message at 20:05 on Feb 14, 2014 |
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Feb 14, 2014 17:26
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Nail It had been a nice relaxing day off. AS the message flashes up on his AR, Nail, sets his beer down and pays his tab. "Duty calls." Driving back to the compound, he wonders what's the big deal. After being waved through the front gate, He leaves the truck parked next to a building and heads down stairs. A quick stop in his room to grab the prototype rifle and bag off assorted murder equipment, he heads to the meeting point.
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Feb 14, 2014 17:28
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You know, I was really, really hoping you would find that excuse to be behind wifi reflective paint. Looks like this is the part of the game where I am gunned down by my own party members! Fortunately my new friends will take some of you with me.
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Feb 14, 2014 22:53
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Well, hopefully its the moment we kick the poo poo out of Ares YET AGAIN and then end up very pissed off at you. At this rate we'll have Ares and Newport Group in open war with each other within a week.
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Feb 14, 2014 23:03
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That would be better than having to fight any of you, as the weakest member of the team. Exactly the guy you want to be the traitorous scum.
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Feb 14, 2014 23:05
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Baby Babbeh posted:At this rate we'll have Ares and Newport Group in open war with each other within a week. I'll be honest, even if Vincent's plan had actually worked the way he wanted it to I assume this would be happening anyway. Frankly, my backup plan to explain why we haven't been able to apprehend Vincent yet was to spin it that another corporation was secretly backing him but welp, looks like I don't have to do THAT anymore.
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Feb 15, 2014 00:56
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Noise, Lo Pan directs you to a secure node with thanks, and within minutes of the plans being transferred he forwards you Sparky's new identity docs. You've seen a lot of fakes in your time, but these files look like top quality. Newport HQ On base you're directed to the topside garage, a massive shed housing everything from bulldozers to excavators to troop trucks to Nigel's armoured Rolls Royce. Newport security guards stand around lounging against vehicles, cradling their carbines, checking magazines, swapping rumours about what's supposed to be going on.  "I heard it's the Huk up to their old tricks again." "I heard Vincent Coll was spotted near our downtown office." "Nah, mate, Nigel probly just saw a mouse unner 'is desk, dat's all it is I bet!" The scent of heady smoke from those unfiltered local cigarettes heralds Kale's arrival. The local fixer merely grins at the rumours floating around. "Mr Newport is on his way," he says. "I hope you're loaded for bear, as they say." Aguinaldo Avenue The minutes tick by slowly, as they're wont to do while waiting to spring an ambush. The bald-headed Mr Smith reenters the second storey room, checking the sight-lines from the window. "My people are in place up and down the street," he says, but they're so well concealed it's hard to tell if you can make out an agent in a dark alley or just a pile of trash. "They'll remain in cover at first. We want Newport's team to get a glimpse of you at the window, then you back away as if you're going to make a getaway. We predict they'll come rushing down the street to catch you. Once they're surrounded, my team breaks cover and orders them to surrender on suspicion of breach of extraterroriality offences. If they're innocent, they should let us take a DNA swab and compare it to blood samples we collected off the ship. If they refuse to drop their weapons," Smith shrugs. "Well. We'll try to take one alive, otherwise we'll have to confirm their involvement with post mortem testing." As he's looking out the window something strange catches his eye. He touches his index finger to his shades to cycle the vision mode. "What the..." On top of a building across the street, about half a block down from you, he points out a crazed feral ghoul on top of one of the roofs. It looks completely mindless, so far gone from a virulent strain of the infection that it's little more than a motile pair of teeth. All of a sudden the ghoul runs towards the edge of the building and leaps off, slashes its claws at thin air, and then plunges six storeys to the hard street with an unpleasant crunch and dies. "Hmm," Smith remarks insightfully.
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Feb 15, 2014 04:45
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Natalya Still in an inordinately and chemically-assisted good mood, Natalya hummed snippets of Rimsky-Korsakov's "Scheherazade" (Op. 35, opening) as she casually made her way to the above-ground garage she had been helpfully directed towards following a brief stopover at the cafeteria. In one hand she held the rapidly dwindling remains of a rather unorthodox-looking sandwich she had constructed (egg salad, simulated sausage, chips, and curry sauce) which she was washing down with pulls from an energy drink she'd obtained from a vending machine along the way. She glanced over the collection of security personnel chatting while they checked over their weapons...whatever was happening Newport wasn't being subtle about it. That could be problematic. To a professional like herself, plausible deniability was both a service offered as well as a reassurance...so long as a client wanted to employ freelancers it meant that they wanted things handled with a certain degree of discretion. Nothing personal, as the saying went, it was just business. This was personal though. And there was only one thing she could think of off the top of her head that Newport was liable to take this personally. Hazily she remembered something...something Vincent told her, about making sure she was unavailable this evening... "Well gently caress." At any other time she would have been livid, possibly even furious. She was still rather annoyed that he was interrupting her evening...but thanks to the lingering effects of the anesthesia, even that wasn't enough to put much of a dent in her disposition. "Noiiiiise, darling!," she called out as she spotted the troll across the garage, waving cheerfully with a lopsided grin on her face before making her way over to him with a fluid grace that had more to do with her augmentations than her state of mind. Once she had approached him she held up a finger, then quickly devoured the remainder of her sandwich in three quick ravenous bites before downing the rest of the energy drink in a single pull, tossing the empty can aside before draping her arms around his neck. "Mmm...so," she said playfully, tossing her hair back, "do you notice anything different about me? Hmm?" She held his gaze for a moment longer before dissolving into a fit of laughter that had her leaning against him for support.
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Feb 15, 2014 12:35
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NoiseKai Tave posted:Natalya Wow. This was different. Carefully placing a hand on Natalya's shoulder in case her internal servos glitched and sent her toward the floor - since he was pretty sure that artificial intervention was all that was keeping the augmented Russian upright at this point - Noise looked her up and down. "Well ... from up here, looks like you got that cybernetics overhaul you were talking about. Chiba datajack, right? Not sure about the rest, but I'm sure your taste in that stuff is better than mine." Not to mention that Sparky would probably keelhaul him all the way back to Hong Kong Harbor if he tried to check the rest of Natalya's augmentations. "How long since you came out from under the good doctor's giggle gas, anyway? You seem ... very cheery for this time of day." Edit: It was morning for me, personally, when I wrote this. Oops. Emerald Rogue fucked around with this message at 18:49 on Feb 15, 2014 |
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Feb 15, 2014 16:41
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Natalya "Aww, you noticed," Natalya said, giggling and preening with a balletic turn, tail lashing lazily behind her as expert systems compensated for her theatrical movements. "How sweet. Mmm, I am like a whole new woman...well, I am 17% of a whole new woman anyway," she said before breaking into laughter once more. She paused, considering Noise's question with exaggerated thoughtfulness at Noise's question. "How long? Oh, Herr Fritz finished a while ago I assume, I have simply been sleeping down in the surgical bay. I woke up...let me see, receive text, get dressed, check ammunition, go to the cafeteria...twenty minutes, maybe? Or thirty. Honestly, who can say? Oh Noise," she enthused breathlessly as she grabbed his arm, violet cybereyes wide, "the things he can do with his hands..." Just a quick heads-up that it's not morning anymore, we've time-jumped ahead to just after Vincent's supervillan exchange which puts this somewhere past 8:00 P.M. Kai Tave fucked around with this message at 17:24 on Feb 15, 2014 |
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Feb 15, 2014 17:17
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Newport HQ Uncertain minutes pass as more guards gather, some of them just come off break and replacing cricket pads with armoured vests, others who worked the early morning shift just woken up and still bleary eyed. It must be just about the entire security force of the startup, two dozen armed personnel all up, a mix of ex-British army, former bobbies, and some just bruisers from the east end. They glance at the oddball runners, irregular and un-uniformed and apparently one-quarter high. "Officer!" one of the guards announces, and the rest of them rise to their feet. Lieutenant Aitkins strides down the middle of the group to take a raised mechanic's platform at one end of the garage, acting as an impromptu stage. Nigel follows her, gesturing to his security chief who takes out her comm and hits a button. The e-board behind them flickers to life, replaying the scene of Captain Waterhouse's death on a 12 foot screen. The troops watch their Captain's final moments, as a fistfight turns deadly when Vincent suddenly stabs a guard in the throat. With paling faces they observe the footage of Coll seizing a gun to shoot another guard, and then stabbing the unarmed Captain Waterhouse dead. The scene ends, only to loop to the beginning again. The guards look amongst each other nervously. "Five days ago," Nigel begins soberly, "Vincent Coll killed three of our employees. Friends, really. Today, we believe we have a bead on him. Minutes ago, Coll contacted my office with some poorly considered plans. His threats were roughly as frightening as being barked at by a slightly senile corgi, but we've traced the signal to a run down neighbourhood around Aguinaldo Avenue. And we're going to get him." Aguinaldo Avenue The likely Mr Smith peers out into the street at the dead ghoul on the sidewalk. A silent subvocal conversation flitters among him and his agents. One of them reluctantly creeps out of the alley to approach the corpse. She looks up at Smith, he looks back, nothing is audible, but you can imagine the conversation as the agent sighs, pulls on a pair of latex gloves, and carefully drags the ghoul corpse back into an alley and out of sight. "Definitely dead," Smith announces. "Weird," he adds, before shrugging and gesturing for Vincent to resume his 'hiding' spot by the open window. children overboard fucked around with this message at 15:08 on Feb 19, 2014 |
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Feb 19, 2014 14:21
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Vincent Coll Vincent watches in quiet horror as some otherworldly being begins its assault on the neighborhood. Was this a spirit, capable of making people kill themselves? A new form of HMHVV, spread by spores? A local mage, assaulting the wildlife with illusions? Whatever it was, the sane response was the same--bail the whole operation, hire a mage to find out what was going on, regroup and retry two days later in a new location. Unfortunately, two days from now Ares was unlikely to send the goon squad again, two days from now his threats would be more transparently disasterous than merely ill-informed, and he needed to get SOME kind of victory to snowball into an expense account and, hopefully, food. The gang of felons had money to buy lunch with--Vincent didn't, and he had a sinking feeling that the helicopter probably didn't have an on-board reactor and solar panels. The drat thing probably required fuel of some sort. Which meant that this operation had to succeed--or at least, fail so gloriously it jostled some doors open. Hell, even failed so hard Vincent gets got to loot the corpses. He was stuck, here, in that window, waiting to be shot, or possibly eaten by a creature with more eyes than limbs. "R, right," he says uncertainly, turning to head upstairs. Well, worst came to worst, the agents were unlikely to actually LET him be eaten. And they had some sort of magical overwatch, right? Corporations can afford that kind of thing, right? Vincent tried not to think too hard about the corporate mages slowly rotting in the jungle. Sorry, sorry! Whenever I tried to post re: ghoul, I just sat there at the computer, mouth flapping open and shut alongside Vincent. What do you do about something like that? What CAN you do, when you're trying to convince Ares that all is going to plan? I don't exactly have a mage I can turn to to protect me from the Shedim or whatever, adding spirits to the list of things Vincent can't handle, which thus far includes mages, hackers, armored vehicles, people on the second story, and feeding himself regularly. Someone rescue me.
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Feb 20, 2014 05:06
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Natalya Chemically enhanced though her mood may have been, Natalya at least possessed enough presence of mind to compose herself as the footage of Vincent's daring escape began looping on the screen behind the platform. This was the first time she had actually seen it, but having observed his handiwork before none of it was tremendously surprising. Thankfully the loop was cut before Vincent had apparently decided to mutilate the head of security's body...that she could do without seeing again. Aguinaldo Avenue...now why did that sound familiar... After Newport finished speaking she languidly raised her hand, holding it aloft perhaps a bit longer than necessary before she spoke. "Nigel, sweetie," she said, "does this not all seem rather...convenient to you? I am not saying that Vincent is not stupid," she hastened to add. "And crazy. And short-sighted. Probably psychotic. Possibly...well, I digress. Nonetheless, are you certain that all of this," she said, waving her hand around at the gathered forces present, "is entirely a good idea? You are committing..." She trailed off, silently counting heads until she realized that she didn't actually know how many security personnel were stationed at the base in total. "...I am going to guess most of your security forces to this endeavor. What if the rebels are simply using him as bait? They draw your forces into an ambush there, then another group attacks you here while you are vulnerable. It is what I would do," she said candidly, shrugging.
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Feb 20, 2014 08:07
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Stormcrow The mage chewed his lip, wishing he'd had the presence of mind to pick up some more of those foul Chinese Marlboro knockoffs that seemed to be the only thing you could get at a decent price on this island. Tasted like a trash can fire, but they at least contained something approximating nicotine, and this whole thing was starting to make his gums itch. "Does seem a bit like a trap," he said. "Although I'm not sure how much Huk support he could even bring to bear for an opp like that... He's only been with the rebels a short time so I doubt he has much pull. Probably if they were splitting for an attack the forces would be spread thin... enough that you could probably hold the fort here with a small team, if they were good enough. Sending everyone for the attack... well, kind of overkill, isn't it?"
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Feb 20, 2014 09:32
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Natalya "Who said anything about the Vincent bringing the Huk to bear?," Natalya said, lazily turning her head and flashing Stormcrow a crooked grin. "I am suggesting that perhaps the Huk are bringing him to bear instead. Maybe they have decided they no longer wish to be friends, hmm? Tsk, oh it is so tragic," she theatrically swooned, hand upon her forehead.
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Feb 20, 2014 09:50
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Stormcrow "True. Pissing off everyone he comes into contact with is his normal MO."
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Feb 20, 2014 10:05
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Newport HQ "We did consider that this may be a trap, some form of rerouted or 'spoofed' signal," Nigel says knowingly. "That's why we've also confirmed Coll's 'mystic aura' is present. Ms Day?" A trenchcoated figure up the back of the hall makes her way through the assembled troops, iron-haired and steel-eyed. She winks at Stormcrow as she takes the stage--it's Mara Day, the private detective. "That's right, darl," Day rasps, voice dry as the mojave. "One of my spirit scouts confirmed Coll's in the area. Now I can't run a detailed astral sweep just yet, not without maybe givin' up the game. See, this part of town's known fer ghoul's nests and such, and when a place has a lotta dual-natured critters around, it's risky to just fly down the middle of the street, and my spirit already almost got busted and had to pull back into the sky a little. See, an unfamiliar aura can upset any astrally seein' locals. It spooks the devil rats, they tend to scatter, and some of the mindless infected might even chase your ghost--I seen that happen in the LA sprawl, I swear, three dozen ghouls chasin' this little floatin' watcher spirit down the street. Now they ain't gonna catch a flyin' aura, but if this rear end in a top hat we're after sees an infected stampede chasin' shadows, well, he just might suspect somethin'." "Thank you Ms Day," Nigel continues. "Now, I've taken Natalya's advice not to treat Coll lightly. That's why we're sending an overwhelming force. We'll keep a small defence contingent here on base--though, with the way this place is designed, there are so many blind ambush alleys, secret tunnels and hidden doors that a tiny crew could stimy even the legions of Xerxes. Short of a detailed map of the base somehow falling into enemy hands, we hardly have to fear this place falling. "If this is an ambush, well, at the very least, Coll is there, and we'll be bringing near-everything we have to bear. Coll's only known allies are a crew of shabby Huks, and they're known to operate in cells of a mere half dozen. I'm sure we can handle it, after all, we'll be putting our best foot forward. Nail, Natalya, Noise, Stormcrow. I want you to lead our force. Leftenant Aitkin's guards will secure the perimetre against any ambush or unexpected reinforcements and provide you backup, but you four know Coll, you know how he operates, so you'll be at the head of our spear." Aguinaldo Avenue Smith shadows you upstairs, making sure to stay out of line-of-sight from the window. "Cold feet?" he smiles.
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Feb 20, 2014 14:09
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Natalya Natalya resisted the urge to roll her eyes. While checking to see if the signal had been falsified was a good first step, Newport seemed to be placing far too much stock in Vincent's actual presence for her taste. Just because he was there didn't mean that the Huks hadn't set him out as the proverbial goat on a stake, but worse was the prospect that this might be another one of Vincent's "clever" plans about to go horribly, horribly awry they way they always did. Either way, she didn't trust it. Then again she rarely trusted anything, but the lingering anesthetic hadn't dulled her survival instincts and everything about this situation had warning klaxons screaming in the back of her head (though that might also have been a side-effect of the brain surgery, but she was fairly certain it was simple paranoia at work). "Fine," she said after a moment. "Of course we will go, but I would strongly advise you to retain at least a little more of your security force here, just in case. Too many people with guns around will only make things more confusing for everyone." And would bring more pairs of prying eyes in case Vincent decided to get cute, plus she really was concerned about a potential attack on Newport's facility if only because he was her client and it hadn't even been a week yet...she planned to make the most of her contract with him before eventually moving on, and she couldn't do that if his venture folded. "And if we are gong to do this, we," she went on, gesturing to the others, "will handle things our way. We will go in first as you say, but discreetly and quietly. We will reconnoiter the area and see if we cannot tell who it is that has put Vincent up to this. Your Lieutenant Aitkins and her men will hang back until we signal them. They should remain on alert regardless, if this is the neighborhood I am thinking of it is full of unsavory creatures. Besides Vincent, I mean," she said, helplessly giggling at her own joke. Then she turned her attention to the woman on stage with the raspy voice, pointing at her with exaggerated determination. "And speaking of unsavory creatures, you," she said, gazing at the mage intently and unblinkingly for an uncomfortable moment before speaking again. "You say you have spirits on-site, yes? And that the local ghouls, they like to chase these spirits, yesssss?" A wide grin slowly spread across her face as she sauntered forward, draping her arm around the woman and leaning against her companionably. "Oh, you and I are going to get along splendidly I can tell. You have some form of network-capable AR feed on hand? Oh, nothing implanted I am sure, poor thing," she said, patting her arm consolingly, "but goggles, glasses, contacts, perhaps a stylish monocle, that sort of thing? Make sure you keep it handy." She held up her commlink and tapped in a quick command. "My number. You will be hearing from me shortly I am sure." If it works with Devil Rats it'll work with ghouls too. Stick with what works 
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Feb 20, 2014 14:59
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Vincent Coll "I don't like the supernatural. Too hard to touch, too hard to find, and once a month the news says MMIT has figured out how it works, and it's the subconscious of gluons." Vincent scoops up his jacket on the way past, and puts it and the commlink back on. "Even the people using it can't explain what's making their brains run out their ears. They just go on about the price of power. What nonsense." Vincent settles down into the windowsill and stares out into the night. "Now back up a little, your smirk is visible from low earth orbit."
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Feb 20, 2014 21:04
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Noise Wizards and ghouls and ghosts, oh my. This drek is just the worst. On an encrypted channel to the rest of the crew, Noise writes: ::I hate ghouls, and I hate ambushes, and I hate Vincent. This whole thing stinks - Vincent is crazy, but I somehow doubt he'd be stupid enough to let his signal get branched just to call in some wild-eyed death threat. We got a plan, or do we just keep our eyes open and hit the dirt when this clever little plan of Newport's explodes?:: Gosh, it sure would be terrible if a map of your compound fell into the wrong hands, Mr. Newport, sir. i can't imagine what sort of dastardly fiend would do such a thing. 
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Feb 21, 2014 03:23
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Natalya ::A plan?,:: Natalya replied as she slouched against Mara. ::A plan is something you make when you have the time to. What we're doing now is improvising. My plan is to let everyone get eaten by rabid ghouls, Vincent included, then find someplace on this island that serves ice cream. Real ice cream, not soy.:: ::Oh,:: she went on, ::and I suppose you should know that this in all likelihood is another dumb plan of Vincent's. I spoke to him after our field trip to the desalination plant to see if I could squeeze Oscar's...the one-armed rebel...location out of him and he mentioned something might be happening this evening. I can't be entirely certain but I think Ares may be a part of this as well. Something about them being angry at the destruction of corporate property, theft of corporate assets, death of corporate personnel, misuse of corporate artillery...honestly, who even keeps track? Not that this changes my plan any, of course.::
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Feb 21, 2014 05:14
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Nail Working at stashing various bits of gear in pockets and pouches, Nail lets Natalya do the talking. She seemed to be handling things well. :Of course it's one of Coll's dumb plans. Huk, Ghouls and probably Ares, what a great combination. Any of us get a bead on Vinnie, just take the shot. Life would have been so much easier if we had done that the second night in that warehouse.:
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Feb 21, 2014 07:43
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