NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: The sign-up thread/OOC thread is at http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=397400

Port Smolensk: The "black mark of Novgova". Crime is rampant, unemployment is moderate to high, drugs use continues to skyrocket, and the local government is extremely corrupt or impartial to the situation. The city is on the brink of collapse and law and order has been beginning to break down completely. Gun smuggling is at an all-time high and almost daily there's a cop in the hospital from an automatic round. And the atmosphere is perfect: an industrial city mostly filled with dark alleyways, sleazy tenement buildings, abandoned factories, and large ports, where it is easy to smuggle things out and in with ease.

The police department is either ineffective or corrupt, as there are many crooked cops, and those that are honest tend to have to resort to semi-legal means of upholding justice. The mobs watch and effectively control the police and many police are threatened by the mob or the crooked cops in the department. Most cops find it easier to turn a blind eye to crime.

Things, however, are starting to change. The Novgovan State Police have begun to run the police departments itself, to reduce corruption. The government had mobilized the CIB (Criminal Investigation Bureau). The CIB had cracked down on most of the old-time mobs. Only a few remain.

However, the vaccum created by the absense of the old-time mobs leaves room for many gangs or international crime syndicates to take their place, whether the Yakuza, Triads, or any other mafia.

The old-time mobs have everything to lose, the new mobs have everything to gain, and the city of Port Smolensk is along for the ride. It's a big city. Anything could happen. Don't get lost. Keep your head low.

Things are about to get way out of control.

OOC: Hi there!

IC: Carlos Santos sat in the cafe watchin the rain pour down outside the window. His short black hair was still dripping from his experdition to his car to retrieve his mobile. He had to carry this on him at all times. Not only was he up for hire by the CIB, but he was also a hitman. Sure, he only did things that he could be sure wouldn't result in more violence in the city, but that was the way things were in this town.

OOC:What's up? (I'll post very soon!)

IC:

"I'm not going to ask you one more time! Who the HELL DO YOU WORK FOR?!?"

"Bite me pig!"

Andrew Grey threw the punk off the old wooden chair into on of the green walls of the small interrogation room.

"Tell me what I want to know!" Andrew screamed.

"Screw you!" the man yelled back.

Andrew kicked the man, already on the floor, in the stomach, making the man crumble up in pain.

"I know my rights!" the man said weakly.

"You have no rights you slimy, dirty piece of SH-"

"That's enough Mr. Grey!" a voice said firmly over the intercom. It was the CIB director Mitchell.

"You got lucky, punk. Maybe nobody will be around, next time."
Andrew Grey proceeded to the door.

"Coward! Run away coward. Can't take one more shot, ay? You old pops on the intercom has to tell you what to do? Awww..."

"I ain't afraid of no one." Andrew stopped walking away and started back toward the man. "I'm going to kill you son of a-"

Mitchel rushed threw the door and grabbed Andrew's arms and restrained him just before delivering another blow to the man.

"He isn't worth it Andrew," the balding director told him.

"You have an appointment at a cafe with a man the CIB is interested in working with. C'mon let's go."

Andrew left the room. Fifteen minutes later he was in an undercover car, heading toward the cafe.

OOC: I need the CIB to hire Santos or something, or he is gonna be a man without a mission... Or is he? I love enigma plot-lines

"Mein Gott, the weather in this place is furchtbar! Klaus Uberschaff shook his umbrella on the porch as one of his bodyguards opened the door to his new headquarters. It was an apartment; small, but ideal for his purpose. He was new around here, after all, and wanted to keep a low profile - at least for a week or so. As his man stepped aside for him to enter his humble abode, he withdrew a banknote from his pocket and placed it in his gloved hand.

"Danke schoen, Uwe. Go find Radi, and bring him here. We have much to discuss."

"Aber natuerlich, Herr. Uberschaff." Uwe bowed slightly before closing the door behind Klaus before turning up his collar and running out onto the pavement. It was a stroke of luck that a taxicab was coming down the street at that time. Uwe held out his arm, the rain already dripping from it.

"Taxi!"

OOC: I need the CIB to hire Santos or something, or he is gonna be a man without a mission... Or is he? I love enigma plot-lines

He's coming. (I wrote more in the post above.)

Carlos looked up as two men entered the cafe. He smiled inwardly. CIB, and armed he thought, his face remaining impartial. They approached him, and he looked up, "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Mein Gott, the weather in this place is furchtbar! Klaus Uberschaff shook his umbrella on the porch as one of his bodyguards opened the door to his new headquarters. It was an apartment; small, but ideal for his purpose. He was new around here, after all, and wanted to keep a low profile - at least for a week or so. As his man stepped aside for him to enter his humble abode, he withdrew a banknote from his pocket and placed it in his gloved hand.

"Danke schoen, Uwe. Go find Radi, and bring him here. We have much to discuss."

"Aber natuerlich, Herr. Uberschaff." Uwe bowed slightly before closing the door behind Klaus before turning up his collar and running out onto the pavement. It was a stroke of luck that a taxicab was coming down the street at that time. Uwe held out his arm, the rain already dripping from it.

"Taxi!"

(OOC: If you need me to Rp another charatcer, just say so.)

Now as for the cafe...
IC:

"I'll be fine, you go ahead to the surveilence post."

Mitchell left the cafe and headed across the street, while Andrew sat down with Carlos, a baretta as well as the typical hidden wires and recording devices that go along with undercover work, underneath his normal, civilian, undercover clothing.

"Now you know why you and I are here, right?" Andrew asked.

Carlos set his coffee down,"I know who you are yes, and I also know that this conversation is being recorded, that you are armed and proficient, and that you are interested in hiring my services," He paused, taking a sip form his mug,"Now, why don't you lay the cards on the table Mr.Mitchell?"

"We need you to carry out official police work. One of the top mobs, as you know is the Ivanov crime family, one of the oldest mafia still around. We need you to do the dirty, work ie the lower level thugs such as Demistrovak. We need the higher levels to incriminate for courts. We need something to show for our work. You get the idea."

Andrew handed over a dossier.

"Demistrovak's Strip Joint in the Krimea section. This sleeze bag is a big pain in the ass. Suspected for no less than 13 murders, and 4 counts of manslaughter, including the death of an innocent mother and child. He's a manager, so to speak, of many of the thugs in the town. Find him and eliminate him, and bring back some evidence that can incriminate Ivanov. Come back to the cafe when you're done, but call us first so we can arrange to give more missions and of course compensate you for your work."

taggage

Im afraid Im gonna have to withdraw if this thing really starts moving...Im about to go to Washington DC, and wont be able to post till sunday

OOC: Ok, Im gonna try and stay in this thing, and I'll only be gone for a few days, so hopefully it works out...However, I'll be using a differnet character than the one listed in the OOC thread, I'll put up a bio in a few.

IC:

Breath. Hold. Squeeze. Those were the thoughts traveling through the head of Andrew Lutz, mercenary, and now hired gun for the CID. He had been asked to work as a sniper for them, and he of course, accepted. He let the final breath of air out as he squeexed the trigger, and the target down range exploded. He carefully extracted the .339Imitora Magnum round from the rifle, and removed his eye from the scope, smiling. He had finaly perfected his shot hold.

Andrew had been in a number of conflicts, against many types of foes. However, this was a new one to him. He had never gone up against crime lords. Oh well, a human being was a human being, and they could all be killed. Of course, it was odd. Here he was, hired to kill gun runners and drug king pins, and in Imitora, the firearms industry was increadably lucrative, and many pharmacuetical companies manufactered some form of liesure drug. He looked down range, just under a mile, and could barely see the target, a metal, manshapped object, whose head had been substituted with a watermelon. That melon had become the victim of the Imitora made version of a .338 Lapua Magnum round. He packed up the rifle, and placed it in the trunk of his car, a red BMW E46 330ci. The car was bone stock, he had picked it up after an accident took out his Mitsubishi VR4 while in Golden Simitar, working on a merc operation there.

The car wasn't overly fast, but it was quick, and able to 'dip and dodge' its way through traffic, something he was a fan off. The smooth six speed assisted in the movements. He had plans for it when he got back home, but they could wait till after the deal. After all, he was getting paid handsomly.

His rifle was a UMAC custom, using a heavily modified UMAC SSB action chambered in .338 Imitora Magnum, and set into a custom McMillian/UMAC fiberglass stock. A custom sighted UMAC long range scope topped the rifle off, and a Harris bi-pod helped keep it steady. The free floating barrel was ported and fluted, and the rifle was accurate out to just over a mile. Andre's best shot was a 925yd shot into a human head sized target, which, even with the scope, apeared slightly larger than the top of a pen cap.

His red BMW sped through traffic, as he headed to the CIB headquarters. He was looking for the director of operations, he needed to figure out what he was supposed to do here in Novgova.

"We need you to carry out official police work. One of the top mobs, as you know is the Ivanov crime family, one of the oldest mafia still around. We need you to do the dirty, work ie the lower level thugs such as Demistrovak. We need the higher levels to incriminate for courts. We need something to show for our work. You get the idea."

Andrew handed over a dossier.

"Demistrovak's Strip Joint in the Krimea section. This sleeze bag is a big pain in the ass. Suspected for no less than 13 murders, and 4 counts of manslaughter, including the death of an innocent mother and child. He's a manager, so to speak, of many of the thugs in the town. Find him and eliminate him, and bring back some evidence that can incriminate Ivanov. Come back to the cafe when you're done, but call us first so we can arrange to give more missions and of course compensate you for your work."

Santos sipped again,"OK. This sort of job, assasination...*Looks at dossier* I would estimate $7500 for the entire job, from start to finsish. Don't worry, I have a number of contacts, and after all I am trained, he will die, rest assured" He stood up, taking the dossier with him. Walking out the cafe, he strode to his car, a Mazda RX-8, and started the engine, driving back to his flat on the outskirts of the city. The car was nippy and light responding well to his touch. He reached the flat and hung up his coat, revelaing the Glock P7 he had been carrying in a shoulder holster. He removed this, then bent and pryed up some floorboards. Underneath these lay his sniper rifle, a semi-automatic Heckler & Koch MSG-90A1 DMR, alongside which was a British Army L96 Bolt-Action. Both would do for this job. He smiled. Tomorrow, he would go to work

(OOC: If you need me to Rp another charatcer, just say so.)

(OOC: No, I'm good.)

IC:

"You know, there's one five-letter word in the English language that, when you add a 't' in it somewhere, you get a six-letter word that means exactly the same thing. Do you know what it is?"

"No, Sir, I'm afraid I do not. Would you like your bill now?" Radi Schapkoff was sitting in a nearby cafe having just had a fine lunch. The best thing about this place was, without a doubt, the price of food, and Radi was confident that he had more than enough to pay for the meal.

"Yes, and whilst you're getting it, think about the thing, won't you?"

"Surely, I will, Sir." The waiter withdrew, probably not thinking about 'the thing'. Radi didn't mind - he had more important things to consider. A new city, a new start, was how Klaus had put it, and whilst he didn't doubt it for a second, there was something in the back of his mind that was telling him something wasn't right. He saw the door open and Uwe walk in, drenched from head to toe. He suppressed his laughter whilst beckoning him over.

"Wie gehts, Uwe?" Uwe looked at him as if to say 'Are you serious?'.

"I am wet, and I am cold, but other than that, I feel just fine, thankyou Herr. Schapkoff." He was being sarcastic, of course. "Herr. Uberschaff has sent me to fetch you. He wants you back at the apartment."

"And I will come, just as soon as my friend returns with the bill." As if on cue, the waiter walked over to the table with the bill. Radi looked over the strip of paper before handing it back with two banknotes. "Keep the change." The waiter thanked him before moving onto the next table.

"Come, Uwe, let us go back outside and get soaked again." The two men got up and walked towards the door. To anyone else, they would have seemed to be two partners in business. In a way, that's what they were - it was just that they were in two different businesses. Radi was just about to step out of the door when he turned back.

"Waiter!" The man looked up from taking another table's order. "Round! You add a 't' and you get rotund!" And with that, he stepped outside into the rain.

(OOC: If you need me to Rp another charatcer, just say so.)

(OOC: No, I'm good.)

IC:

"You know, there's one five-letter word in the English language that, when you add a 't' in it somewhere, you get a six-letter word that means exactly the same thing. Do you know what it is?"

"No, Sir, I'm afraid I do not. Would you like your bill now?" Radi Schapkoff was sitting in a nearby cafe having just had a fine lunch. The best thing about this place was, without a doubt, the price of food, and Radi was confident that he had more than enough to pay for the meal.

"Yes, and whilst you're getting it, think about the thing, won't you?"

"Surely, I will, Sir." The waiter withdrew, probably not thinking about 'the thing'. Radi didn't mind - he had more important things to consider. A new city, a new start, was how Klaus had put it, and whilst he didn't doubt it for a second, there was something in the back of his mind that was telling him something wasn't right. He saw the door open and Uwe walk in, drenched from head to toe. He suppressed his laughter whilst beckoning him over.

"Wie geht's, Uwe?" Uwe looked at him as if to say 'Are you serious?'.

"I am wet, and I am cold, but other than that, I feel just fine, thankyou Herr. Schapkoff." He was being sarcastic, of course. "Herr. Uberschaff has sent me to fetch you. He wants you back at the apartment."

"And I will come, just as soon as my friend returns with the bill." As if on cue, the waiter walked over to the table with the bill. Radi looked over the strip of paper before handing it back with two banknotes. "Keep the change." The waiter thanked him before moving onto the next table.

"Come, Uwe, let us go back outside and get soaked again." The two men got up and walked towards the door. To anyone else, they would have seemed to be two partners in business. In a way, that's what they were - it was just that they were in two different businesses. Radi was just about to step out of the door when he turned back.

"Waiter!" The man looked up from taking another table's order. "Round! You add a 't' and you get rotund!" And with that, he stepped outside into the rain.

"Radi, wie geht's?" Klaus extended his arms and the two men hugged. They were very good friends, and had been for almost ten years. It was fair to say that they were like brothers, despite the stark differences: Klaus was a lot shorter than Radi, and was a little heavier than him too (not that he took kindly to being reminded of this fact).

"Ich bin gut, aber Uwe ist sehr naß und sehr kalt." The two men laughed as Uwe entered the room, the rain pouring from his chin onto the floor below. "Do not drip on the floor, Uwe. Quickly, into the kitchen and dry yourself by the stove. Herr. Uberschaff and I need some time anyway." They waited until Uwe had closed the door behind him before continuing.

"You have it, Radi?"

"Ja, here it is." Radi handed Klaus an envelope, which he pocketed.

"I trust you, Radi. I will open it later. Did it take a lot?"

"No, he was relatively cooperative. It took only two broken fingers."

"You took him to the hospital, didn't you?"

"Of course - I'm not a barbarian. I left him in the reception, but you know these hospitals. He's probably still waiting to be seen." They laughed and drank the whiskey that Klaus has pre-poured. "Anyway, I'm afraid that the niceties end here. I set it up yesterday we should be there within the hour."

"Perhaps we should get going." Klaus called for Uwe, who emerged from the kitchen relatively dry. "I am afraid your efforts were futile. We need to go out again. Call a cab, please, whilst we get ready." Both men went into an adjoining room, leaving Uwe alone. He was a man of few words, and there was only one word that came to mind for him now.

"Scheiße!"

Carlos Santos emerged from his flat early next morning, into the city that was mildly freshened from the previous nights rain. He knew that it would not last, and breathed as little as possible to protect his lungs from the noxious fumes. Everywhere he looked, he saw the problems of the town as plain as the morning sun.
He carried in his right hand a holdall, which contained both of his sniper rifles broken down into their component elements. As he reached the car, a drunken tramp approached him, as if to ask for money. Suddenly, a knife flashed., but Santos was ready. He gripped the man in a vice-grip, and swiftly knocked him out. Fool he thought, then continued on his way. Clmabering into the car, he drove towards the Krimea sector. As he drove, he reviewed the dossier in his head. He had decided to begin by learning the targets routinue, as he would almost certainley have one. Having reached the joint, he parked about a block down, and waited, watching through the perpetual gloom with his field glasses. Now it was just a matter of time...

A figure emerged from the strip joint. It was 5AM, the usual time he left the strip joint after the late-night stragglers disappeared and business was taken care of. He was very loud, appearently drunk, and looked unshaven. A voluptous woman scantly clad opened the door for the drunk and followed in after him. The limo then promptly left the joint. It drove on for a seemingly long time to a large, seedy tenement building.

On his way out of the limo, Demistrovak tripped over drug addicts, still obviously high. He commenced to kick the poor people until they were bleeding profusely. He rested for a bit against the peeling walls of the tenement, his carefully placed gun showing under his ragged suit. He entered the tenement with his mistress and headed to the only working elevator, the service elevator, all the way to the penthouse floor seven stories up, the only luxurious floor in the hellhole.

"Bingo, you bastard!" whispered Carlos, as he saw the dishevelled figure leave, and proceeded to follow the limo to the buidling. When it stopped, he pulled into an alleyway, across from the building. He watched as the elevator went to the seventh floor, then paused. He thought about it, then left the car where it was. This was to be a silent job, just the wya he liked it. Going to the fire-escape, he shimmyed up until he was on the seventh floor, then walked inside. ONly one room was occupied, and he strode confindantley towarsd it. As he drew level, he placed one hand on his pistol, and knocked sharply with the other...

OOC: sorry i took so long to post. i was away.

A man yelled out from the other side.

"This is Demistrovak's room. Who are you?"

The door opened.

Nogova, where do you want me to have Lutz go.

I"m getting there I just need to see where Snake is going first.

You can make Lutz enter the CIB office and introduce himself to the director while we're waiting.

OOC: I guess I'll start off and you can bring your guy in.

IC:

"Sir, Carol is on line 1."

Mitchell shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Thanks, I'll take it later. I have someone important to meet."

Mitchell was waiting for a guy, apparently a good one, that would help take a bite out of crime. Although, he didn't trust mercs and the CIB was already underfunded, concessions had to be made. After all, these are trained experts and any help would help.

While waiting, he started to wonder where Andrew, his best CIB team member was...

The 330ci purred as Andrew let it roll to a stop in an empty space. He stepped out of the BMW, and holstered his UMAC/Kimber Custom .45, leaving the rifle in the trunk. He cleared security, and headed towards teh stairs, prefering to walk to the directors office. He knocked on the door, and entered the room. "Director Mitchell? Andrew Lutz, from Imitora."

The 330ci purred as Andrew let it roll to a stop in an empty space. He stepped out of the BMW, and holstered his UMAC/Kimber Custom .45, leaving the rifle in the trunk. He cleared security, and headed towards teh stairs, prefering to walk to the directors office. He knocked on the door, and entered the room. "Director Mitchell? Andrew Lutz, from Imitora."

"Yeah come in."

Mitchell looked at his watch intently, got his files both on Lutz, and thugs that needed a "good scratching" by Lutz. He was preparing to hear Lutz's employment proposal, not knowing that at that moment several major events were going on in the city of Port Smolensk.

OOC: Well, I am trying to find a way to get in here, and other than a couple of hokey ideas, I don't see a good opening. So, I'm asking if anyone has an idea, especially South Osettia, he's been talking to himself and my character has more experiance on that side of the law. I'm open, take a look at my character on the signup if you want.

OOC: Sorry, been really busy n' all

IC: Mickey straightened his nice sport coat. There he was, in the middle of the inner city, wearing a full suit and neck tie. He knew the reputation of this neighborhood, and frankly, it excited him.

Suddenly a man stepped out in front of him. The other guy was tall, big , and had more metal in his head than your average skyscraper. The great man leared at Mickey."Eh guy, it's gonna be straight forward, gimme your f***in' money!"

Mickey gave him his classic grin. Mickey had spent years perfecting it; it was able to project many emotions just from one simple expression. Now, it was obvious amusment that his smile protrayed.

Suddenly, Mickey's hand shot out, fist connecting with the man's throat. Mickey had, like his perfect smile, spent years working on that perfect punch.

The would-be mugger stepped back in shock, unable to breathe, which was fine for Mickey as quick as a flash he kicked the poor bastard in the stomach, and then delivered another to his crotch.

The man fell to the ground, where Mickey proceeded to kick him in the face, over and over again. Mickey's nice black polished shoes were sprayed with flecks of the man's blood as he kicked harder and harder.

Suddenly he stopped. Mickey kneeled down, reached into the man's pocket, and took his wallet. He then continued down the road...whistling the Superman theme song.

Spying a brothel, Mickey decided he should investigate..after all, it'd be some time before anyone answered his ad...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

ATTENTION!

TIRED OF BOTCHED JOBS? MORTALLY WOUNDED BUT NOT DEAD ENEMIES MAKING RECOVERIES?

CALL THE BEST

MICKEY CICERONI @ 111-555-5555 (OOC: dont really call this #, i have no idea what it really is, but if you need Mickey, just TG me, but i'll be checking up on this thread so juist say you called him...capiche?)

Carlos waited until the door was fully open and he could stare into his targets eyes, before raising the pistol, and pumping a single 9mm round into Demistrovak. He smiled a wolfish smile as the round struck at chest level, puncturing a lung. Not a fatal shot, but good enoughl, for now. Entering the room, he saw the mistress in the bed, wearing next to nothing,"Get going, or do you need a lesson as well?" barked Santos. The woman didn't need a second invitation.
As she left, Santos turned back to his target, who was now lying on the floor, clutching the hole in his chest,"Hello Demistrovak. A little birdy told me that you've been a very naughty boy, messing around with the Izanov family. Dissapointing*shakes his head* Now, you must pay the price for what you have done" Demistrovak's eyes widened as he realised what Santos was going to do. Carlos calmly knelt, placed the muzzle next to his targets ear, and pulled the trigger. Blood and brains flew out the other side, painting the wall in not-so-attracttive shade commonly known as hint of brain. The silenced pistol hadn't alerted anyone, and Santos still had more work to do. He left, closing the door behind him, and leaving the building via the fire escape. He had to gather evidence about the mans dealings, and the strip joint would be the only place. But he needed plans.
As he entered his car, he picked up the mobile, and pressed a single key. The ringing buzzed briefly, then it was answered,"CIB Main Desk, how may I help you?"
"Get me Mitchell. Tell him it's his latest hire"

OOC: Well, I am trying to find a way to get in here, and other than a couple of hokey ideas, I don't see a good opening. So, I'm asking if anyone has an idea, especially South Osettia, he's been talking to himself and my character has more experiance on that side of the law. I'm open, take a look at my character on the signup if you want.

OOC: You could start your own mob. We seem to be low on mob characters. I didn't anticipate that so many would be on the police side as usually in a mob rp they are on the "wrong side of the law". I'll bring in my mob character as soon as possible (I've actually been busy lately and rather suddenly but I'll try and bring in my character.)

Carlos waited until the door was fully open and he could stare into his targets eyes, before raising the pistol, and pumping a single 9mm round into Demistrovak. He smiled a wolfish smile as the round struck at chest level, puncturing a lung. Not a fatal shot, but good enoughl, for now. Entering the room, he saw the mistress in the bed, wearing next to nothing,"Get going, or do you need a lesson as well?" barked Santos. The woman didn't need a second invitation.
As she left, Santos turned back to his target, who was now lying on the floor, clutching the hole in his chest,"Hello Demistrovak. A little birdy told me that you've been a very naughty boy, messing around with the Izanov family. Dissapointing*shakes his head* Now, you must pay the price for what you have done" Demistrovak's eyes widened as he realised what Santos was going to do. Carlos calmly knelt, placed the muzzle next to his targets ear, and pulled the trigger. Blood and brains flew out the other side, painting the wall in not-so-attracttive shade commonly known as hint of brain. The silenced pistol hadn't alerted anyone, and Santos still had more work to do. He left, closing the door behind him, and leaving the building via the fire escape. He had to gather evidence about the mans dealings, and the strip joint would be the only place. But he needed plans.
As he entered his car, he picked up the mobile, and pressed a single key. The ringing buzzed briefly, then it was answered,"CIB Main Desk, how may I help you?"
"Get me Mitchell. Tell him it's his latest hire"

"Hello? Hello? Listen to me! You've tread on dangerous turf now. Cross the point of no return so to speak. You better get out of there immedately! Not only are you going to get the mob after you, I don't trust the cops there."

Mitchell knew many of the cops were on the payroll of the mob.

No sooner had he said that when a police car, a Lada, swerved in front of Santos's car, light bar flashing and siren wailing.

"Damn. You can't kill a cop. But if you don't find a way out then I can't garantee your safety." Mitchell said into the phone. "That's if he's a real cop. I don't know how they got on your tail so quickly. You gotta do something."

Meanwhile two cops bolted out of the cop car, guns drawn.

"Freeze! Get out of the car punk!"

"Thanks, talk to you later". He smiled, and stepped out the car. His brain went into overload, analysing all the factors at once. After a brief moment of indecision, he went for the most viable option, run. And run he did. Jumping into his car, he pulled a tight J-turn, and skidded away down a side-street. He belted the car down the narrow streets until he reached his flat. As he entered, he rang again, and left a message,"Mitchell, this is Santos. I got away. but I'm hiding low. I need you to come here, I cannot risk leaving the flat." At the end of the message was an address

Arthas Scipius stepped out of the two-seater Cessna he always prefered to fly himself around in. He had just gotten 5,000,000 of any currancy he wanted from one hellish job, and had gotten it in a non-native currancy, the Lavdim. Arthas was after all, a businessman as well as anything else, and the Lavdim had the highest exchange rate in the world, something that the government of the Golden Scimitar was reminded of. Anyways, he had just gotten some capital, and decided that he wanted to set up his own dynasty, even better than the one he advised until it fell into the dirt.

Port Smolensk seemed like the place to do it. He had already bought an entire city block, it was perfect. A car dealership, some storefront, a hotel, and a dockside warehouse. It wasn't cheap, but he had persuasive skills, and friends with those same skills.

He got in a car he had bought out of his own dealership, still believing in honor and putting his own money in instead of just taking it from the dealership. "A Mitsubishi Eclipse Spider, black, fully loaded, 10 year warenty, all for $30,000" the salesman told him over the phone, not knowing who was on the other end at first.

He drove down to his office, in the back of the hotel, overlooking the block, second floor from the top. He wasn't feeling too threatened yet, as police probably hadn't recieved word from the Arthagan government, who most people were paid off on account of he had already started his empire right in Nova City, Arthaga Nova's capital. Still, he wasn't stupid, and had the block well guarded. After all, he just bought an entire city block along the coast, it was sure to turn some heads down in city hall. His doors, despite guarded, were open, and he was ready to start attracting recruits. He didn't have (too many) posters and ads up in the alleys and bars, but he did have alot of word-of-mouth campaigns.

He arrived, sat down, and went to work.

While Mitchell was on the phone, Andrew Grey pulled his police Vauxhall Vectra into the temporary parking lot near the side entrance. As was usual, the government's step to make sure that justice is served, he escorted the police van that brought mafia kingpin Radjik, previously the biggest mob king and the one arrested for the execution of Ivan Uralsk, the famous police officer.

Andrew Grey always made sure he arrived a half an hour. He checked his watch. 9:30. Exactly a half hour early.

He made his way passed security, passing dozens of jail cells to cellblock C-1, where the mafia boss was being held. When he got there he had a big surprise. He wasn't there!

Andrew ran to the nearest security station. "Radjk's not in his cell. Where did he go?"

"Your friends already came for him. You just missed them. They should be clearing the last security checkpoint and entering the courtyard right about now."

"They shouldn't be heading out now! They are to leave at 10:00 everyday and arrive promptly at 11:00 at the courthouse everyday!" Andrew yelled.

The warden didn't seem to care. "Look, if you hurry you might catch them. They should be entering the courtyard right about now."

The warden peeled back the blinds to his office, a view of the courtyard below. "Yeah there they are."

"Shit!" Andrew started to run. "Those aren't the real cops! Stop them! Now!"

This got the warden's attention. He quickly picked up the black phone on his desk, fumbling with the phone a few times and knocking over a messy pile of papers.

"Alarm. Alarm! Do not let the prisoner out!!!"

Meanwhile in the courtyard Radjik was walking calmly down the steps. A court day as usual. The police van was waiting just outside the gates, same as always. However, he looked to his left and realized the cop on his left wasn't his usual guard. In a matter of fact, he looked familiar! The cop winked and smiled at him. The other cop on his right was smiling too.

Radjik began to smile too. He couldn't believe his luck! In 1 hour, the cops would only begin to realize he was gone. By then he would be anywhere. He only had to make it to the van...

The alarm klaxon went off.

A voice went over the courtyard speakers.

"Freeze! Stay where you are!"

A female warden rushed out of the courtyard exit behind him.

"Don't mov-"

One of the fake cops unholstered his pistol and planted a bullet square into her forehead.

"Run! Run!!!"

The fake cops knelt down and fired at the cops patroling the walls.

The guards in the guard towers and on the walls aimed their AK74s.

More fake cops poured out of the police van, AK74s in their hands and began giving cover fire.

Two police officers rushed out of the courtyard exit doors and were instantly shot in the chest, their bodies tumbling down the steps. The prison guards in the courtyard opened fire and killed the two fake escort cops outright. Four prison wardens rushed out of the courtyard doors, AKs blazing.

Two fake cops right next to Radjik fell dead. But he was so close now. The sliding door opened and he started to get in...

...Radjik felt three sharp pains in his chest and collapsed to the pavement, his left arm just reaching into the van. He put his right hand near the pain and found them covered in a red substance.

His own blood. And as his face paled and everything was turning dark, he tried to crawl but realized he wasn't moving at all. He could barely hear the gunfire around him, a man screaming for him, and the alarm howling, before it all faded away.

Andrew barged through the courtyard doors after running faster than he ever did in his life. The dead littered the courtyard as cop and thug alike covered the pavement and walls. The courtyard was now covered by lakes of crimson. Seven fake cops, 3 wardens, and two police officers lay dead in the walled courtyard.

OOC: Just a'wonderin if y'all forgot bout me...call if ya need me...

OOC: Just a'wonderin if y'all forgot bout me...call if ya need me...

OOC: See my last post, feel free to jump in there, along with any other people.

Mickey entered Scipius' office. He knew how it looked...an 18 year-old in a nice suit and tie entering the gritty office of a mafia boss, but Mickey had been in much more awkward positions.

"Good evening, my name is Michael Vincent Ciceroni - you may call me Mickey..." he watched as Scipius's face flashed the shock of recognition, though the man was not as far as he knew a part of the Syndicate, every crime lord knew of the legendary Ciceroni's, more accurately Mario, his 120 year-old great-grandfather. Mario had joined the life of crime after seriving with honors as a soldier in several Mikatopian conflicts. Mario had risen to the top with amazing speed and had stayed in his postion as top crime boss of the Syndicate for as long as anyone could remeber.

"Yes, I am related to Mario, he is my great-grandfather, and i do not wish you to hire me just because of my connections. I have here several reccomendations that show off my skill accurately. If you dont mind sir, i would like the dirtiest, hardest, grittiest job you can give me."

Mickey knew he havent given the man a second to say anything. Thats how he worked, Mickey...

Scipius did have a reaction, but it wasn't as big of one as most would. He didn't, after all, get where he was with a surprised look on his face. "A Ciceroni? Hmm... never thought one would break away from the family, but I guess I got lucky. Well, I happen to have a job for you. We need to... make a statement. Attract police attention. Not enough to get them coming for us, but enough to pull some cops in to be able to bribe. I want you to go out, find a cop, a prominent one, and bring him here alive. A merc woking for the CIB would be ok too."

Ivanov sat in his plush leather chair, his feet resting on top his expensive mohagany table, puffing a cigar.

"Sir," his bodyguard interrupted "Demistrovak is dead."

"Who did it?"

"I don't know sir."

"Well he had it coming to him for awhile," Ivanov replied. "He was an idiot. Still, we have to teach people lessons that they never mess with me. I want complete retalitory attacks on those responsible."

"Yes sir."

Within half an hour, hitmen were ordered to simultaneously hit Scipicus and Radi, high ranking members of otherwise small time mobs in Port Smolensk. Minor nuisances at best. Or so they thought.

Ivanov sat in his plush leather chair, his feet resting on top his expensive mohagany table, puffing a cigar.

"Sir," his bodyguard interrupted "Demistrovak is dead."

"Who did it?"

"I don't know sir."

"Well he had it coming to him for awhile," Ivanov replied. "He was an idiot. Still, we have to teach people lessons that they never mess with me. I want complete retalitory attacks on those responsible."

"Yes sir."

Within half an hour, hitmen were ordered to simultaneously hit Scipicus and Radi, high ranking members of otherwise small time mobs in Port Smolensk. Minor nuisances at best. Or so they thought.

OOC: Perfect

IC: Carlos Santos was on edge. He'd already had one encounter with mob-run cops, and he doubted it would be his last. However, the way he had pulled the job off, he reckoned that Ivanov would hit the other mobs. The man wasn't as smart as the papers made him out to be, of that much Carlos was certain.
The door was deadbolted, and Carlos could easily kill whoever came through that door. Still, worth it for that small peace of mind. He opened his laptop, and engaged the wireless internet connection. Having made it, he set about trailing the city records. That strip joint must have had to submit floor plans, and he would find them. He still had a job to do, and he never left a job half-finished. Already, he found himself trusting Mitchell a little bit more than normal.
As he searched, the news came on. It was a breaking report, all about the poilce HQ, not far form here. Santos stopped to watch the report, and was stunned into silence by what had transpired. Radi had tried to break out. Now he was dead. Never a good thing. As he watched, he heard a knocking at his door...

OOC: Possible CIB operative, sent to check up on Carlos. Its not like you can pass a man like that up. Hes already achieved more than most in the city, and hes only been working for a night and 12 hrs

As soon as Arthas had given Mickey the orders, two guys burst into the office, Arthas already was behind the desk with a gun and the two guards and consigliere in the room were too before the doorknobs hit the stoppers. Bothe guys walked in and handed Arthas each a folder.

Arthas read through, one was about Radi's death in the police station, one was about Demistrovak's hit. He sighed, handing the folders to his consigliere as Arthas looked over a map. "Mickey, I want you to still capture someone, but it is going to be whatever goon gets sent after me. The Russian, Ivanov, is going to want revenge, he's going to either go after me or Radi, so he is coming for me, Radi is dead already."

OOC: I seriously hope one of my characters has not been killed. Is there anyone else called Radi in this thing?

OOC: I seriously hope one of my characters has not been killed. Is there anyone else called Radi in this thing?

OOC: Whether he kills your character or not is your decision. You have to RP what happens because i can't, for example, Rp your men killing my men because, well, they're your men! Your allowed to kill the hitmen after your man. I just did this so that we can interact (and start a mob war).

OOC: Perfect

IC: Carlos Santos was on edge. He'd already had one encounter with mob-run cops, and he doubted it would be his last. However, the way he had pulled the job off, he reckoned that Ivanov would hit the other mobs. The man wasn't as smart as the papers made him out to be, of that much Carlos was certain.
The door was deadbolted, and Carlos could easily kill whoever came through that door. Still, worth it for that small peace of mind. He opened his laptop, and engaged the wireless internet connection. Having made it, he set about trailing the city records. That strip joint must have had to submit floor plans, and he would find them. He still had a job to do, and he never left a job half-finished. Already, he found himself trusting Mitchell a little bit more than normal.
As he searched, the news came on. It was a breaking report, all about the poilce HQ, not far form here. Santos stopped to watch the report, and was stunned into silence by what had transpired. Radi had tried to break out. Now he was dead. Never a good thing. As he watched, he heard a knocking at his door...

OOC: Possible CIB operative, sent to check up on Carlos. Its not like you can pass a man like that up. Hes already achieved more than most in the city, and hes only been working for a night and 12 hrs


OOC: You wrote pefectly except the person who's dead is Radjik, not Radi. (Radi is South Osettia's guy).

OOC: You wrote pefectly except the person who's dead is Radjik, not Radi. (Radi is South Osettia's guy).

OOC: Sorry SO, didn't pay to much attention. Sowri! Lol, no IC commetns Novgova?

Uwe stepped out onto the street, followed closely by Klaus and Radi. The meeting point was only down the street and, in Klaus's words, why waste money on a cab trip of a hundred yards? They walked together, with Uwe just in front of the pair, making a mental note of all the people walking towards them, looking for the usual signs: shifty eyes, hands in pockets, hat down and collar up.

There! Skulking by the lamppost was a small man in a black overcoat. His hat was lowered over his brow, shadowing his eyes with his collar covering his mouth. There was no way anyone would be able to give a facial description. Uwe kept walking, pretending not to have noticed: best not to alert these guys. As they got closer, his grip tightened on his knife.

"So he went into his shop and asked for a pound of goat!" Klaus was telling Radi another story about his father. He had truly adored the man, and had always vowed to kill his murderer. That he had done, with Radi's help, and that was how they had become such good friends. The consequences of such actions are always strange, Uwe thought to himself, as he got ready to pounce on his boss's would-be attacker. Just then, though, the man looked up and nodded at a second-storey window, and Uwe's blood ran cold. Oh God, he's the signal. He looked up to see a man in the window. He was holding a rifle, and it was pointed straight at Radi. Uwe had been trained to dive in front of bullets, but had never once thought he would have to do it for real. Nevertheless his devotion to his employers was much as to make him dive instinctively.

As the gun sounded, Klaus and Radi looked up, but in Radi's case, only long enough to see a flash before being bundled over by Uwe. People started to scream. Some crouched on the ground, others ran for cover. Some just stood in the street with their hands over their mouths, frozen in terror. The signalman began to walk away, confident that the job had been done. Little did he know that the actions of an alert bodyguard had saved his target's life, at the expense of his own.

OOC: Sorry SO, didn't pay to much attention. Sowri! Lol, no IC commetns Novgova?

OOC: Actually I'm busy and not really checking right now. I was supposed to finsihs something a few days ago and I am a little behind schedule so I might not post today. I'm pretty sure tomorrow I will.

Arthas sat at his desk, thinking. Not entirely thinking, but planning. His gut told him that he wasn't the safest man in the world. And even though Mickey was on watch, he wouldn't be surprised if more than one person would come, and from more than one direction.

He stood up and asked for a few hotel employee uniforms, he had a plan. It wasn't to hide, it was to be the first one to shoot.

Mickey looked at his new employer...he had underestimated the man. Something about him was different...

Mickey spoke up "Sir, I was just wondering if i could help out in any other way...I'm a man of action. I don't mind watching you sir...but I have a wide range of abilities that I will not hestiate to use in your employ..."


OOC:Arthaga, sorry that it took me so long...i'll try to respond more quickly in the future...but just to let EVERYONE know that i might lag behind from time to time...took a lot of time off for wrestling and now im trying to rebuild my social life...thanks for your understanding

OOC:
Nah man, that's ok. Social life is priority one in my book, you're cool.

IC:
Arthas slid a bellhop's uniform over his suit, being careful not to wrinkle it. "I didn't say you should watch me, I said that there is going to be at least one thug coming to try to kill me, and I'm going to put a show on for him. There will be most likely more though. I just want you to go find one and bring him to me. Even though you most likely'll be operating here, I am by no means your priority."

He donned the hat fez hat and checked his guns, leading everyone out of the room. "This is your first mission with me, and I'd hate for it to be your last, I look forward to hiring you again, if you complete this mission."

Mickey gave him the Grin, "Thank you sir...if you don't mind, I'll be out in the lobby."

Mickey left the office and pulled out his pistol. It was a nice piece of work... it was a Sword, a Syndicate-made handgun made with a stainless steel covering and gold bullets that came with it, though other bullets worked too. It was for the elite of the Syndicate...and Mickey's thirteenth birthday present. It had the Virgin Mary painted on it...very beautifully he might add.

On his way out he spotted the rather fetching receptionist.

"Hi, what's you're name?"

She giggled and shyly smiled.

Mickey came closer and leaned close to her, giving her his smile...

She smiled, all the other guys at the hotel were fresh recruits and didn't talk to many people yet, not comfortable with the mob scene, and Arthas always had a stick up his rear.

"Susie, my name is Susie."

OOC:Whoa...i didnt expect you to pick up the role of the receptionist...but thats cool. just suprised me for a sec there...i just gotta breathe in, breathe out, breathe in...

IC: Mickey winked, "I'm Mickey, just stopping to have a chat with the big A."

His brain started working quickly as he looked deeply into her eyes. She looked somewhat desprate..alone. She wasnt stupid, not at all. The way she held herself..she had a lot of respect for her body , wasnt some common slut, maybe a virgin?

Mickey grinned, "Would you like to go out with me some time?"

Mickey looked at his new employer...he had underestimated the man. Something about him was different...

Mickey spoke up "Sir, I was just wondering if i could help out in any other way...I'm a man of action. I don't mind watching you sir...but I have a wide range of abilities that I will not hestiate to use in your employ..."


OOC:Arthaga, sorry that it took me so long...i'll try to respond more quickly in the future...but just to let EVERYONE know that i might lag behind from time to time...took a lot of time off for wrestling and now im trying to rebuild my social life...thanks for your understanding

OOC: Thats fine. If everyone was on all the time, then we wud all b 6 ft under, if you get my meaning. I'd better let you all know too that becoz I live in the UK, I have to post according to GMT time, and I cant really stay on beyond 23:00 GMT. Irritatin as hell, but just so you know

She looked up from her computer at Mickey and smiled, looking at him warmly through her glasses with the slim, trim, professional frames. Those the words seemed to describe about everything about her, slim, trim, and professional. She laughed a bit.

"Here you are trying to pick me up when you are supposed to be out picking up some goon for interrogation." She thought for a bit "I would love to, but you might want to ask Mr. Scipius, he kind of looks after me, that's why I work here. Still, I wouldn't ask until you get your mission done. Don't worry about me" She tapped at a sawed-off. "I can hold my own here."

Mickey smiled at the rejection and winked, "Alright, you just stay here while I'm gone."

He straightened up and walked out of the hotel. Mind shifting to business now...

He had to find this hitman...it wouldn't be easy, and he need information, he had no idea where anything was in this damn ghetto.

Mickey went to the car dealership part of Arthas' block. There he spotted a nice black Aston Martin Vanquish. Convincing the guards on watch that he was working for Scipius, they let him use the car, though the one guard swore that if Mickey even nicked it, he would sew Mickey's ass to his face.

Mickey drove off to the nearest bar to get started...and to get a drink.

OOC: Novgova... when i find this other hitman, should i rp him and the finding, or is that gonna be up to you. Just askin because some people get funny about that sort of thing.

OOC: As long as I don't physically RP the character, ie not on the list of my RPed charatcers, anybody can RP them and thus determine their fate and the characters' fates they interact with.

OOC: Heh, "Sew his ass to his face", I'd have a guard say that myself, very good, and good choice of automobile.

IC:

OOC: Oh yeah, nothing to do for now : P

OOC: Heh, "Sew his ass to his face", I'd have a guard say that myself, very good, and good choice of automobile.

IC:

OOC: Oh yeah, nothing to do for now : P

OOC: I'm still waiting, my char cant react until someone decides you is knockin at his door

The ambulance had left, but it was already clear that Uwe was dead. They'd take him in for verification, and then he'd be sent to the morgue, where he would either be buried or cremated, whichever Klaus chose. He'd always thought that burying somebody was cruel; that being alone underground, dead or alive, as the worst fate anybody could have. He would have Uwe cremated. He and Radi had decided to skip the meeting, and gone back into the apartment, where they were now on the third glass of Weißbier. Not many people knew that Weißbier was actually green, and Klaus revelled in this fact. He considered it interesting and unusual to be drinking a green beverage, and almost always pulled it out during a meal or party. Now, however, was a time of sorrow. There were no laughs, no jokes, just silence.

"Who knew we were going out?" Radi looked up from his glass, as if he'd just snapped out of a trance.

"Entschuldigung?"

"I said who knew we were going out?"

"Only him - I made sure of it. Our tracks were well and truly covered."

"Which means that either they were waiting for us on their own accord, or he sent them."

"It seems that way, yes."

"Why you? I'm the leader - why did he try to kill you?"

"A message. A warning."

"A warning?"

"Don't mess with us. Pack your bags and get out of town."

"He obviously doesn't know me very well then, does he?" Klaus got up from his chair and walked over to the window overlooking the street. It was as if nothing had happened: people had gone back to their daily business, and the only hint of trouble was a dark patch several yards up the street.

"Sie töteten meinen Freund. Sie zahlen mit Ihrem Leben."

OOC: OK, thank you for clearing that up

IC: Mickey entered the bar, a rather smelly establishment. There was cigar, marijuana and opium smoke in the air along with the stenches of urine, booze, and vomit. The room itself was dark, the floor sticky, and the tables covered in left over food , and some were stained with blood.

Mickey saw this establishment must also serve as a brothel, because there were whores flirting suggestivley with the drugged up patrons, taking some upstairs.

He looked rather out of place with his nice suit, but Mickey really didnt care, niether did the other customers.

But all of this was trivial to Mickey, merely backround noise. What caught his attention was a table all the way in the back of the bar. Two men were sitting there, obviously not wasted or stoned. Mickey sat down at a table close to them, but not too close. He sat down sort of clumsily, and the two men watched as he fell to the floor, completely missing the chair. He gave them a lopsided, drunken grin, as if he had no idea what he was doing.

The two men dimissed him as another drunk vagrant and got back to thier conversation. Mickey smiled, he had drank a quick shot of vodka and applied eye drops to his eyes to make them look bloodshot. His clothes were a mess, and he had splashed water on the crotch of his pants. He looked like a drunk, and they would pay him no heed.

He watched the one man's lips mouth the word "Arthas" and Mickey knew he was right on, he had had a hunch, and it had turned out to be right. Mickey watched them talk, reading their lips and forming plans in his head...

OOC: I'm still waiting, my char cant react until someone decides you is knockin at his door

OOC: Until I am knocking at his door?

IC: Arthas got bored and with his other disguised bodyguards, made their way down to the kitchens where Arthas took over as head chef. And the quality of food went from a 2 or 3 star to a full 4 star.

A man walked into the lobby of the hotel.

" I have a message for you..."

The man pulled out a handgun and...

...dropped the clip on the floor and put the hand gun on the Lobby's desk.

"You could frisk me if you like, but I assure you I am now unarmed," the gruff man said.

"I have a message for Arthas, I'm sure he'd like to see it."

...Meanwhile back at Ivanov's Mansion...

The television was on, the only source of lighting in Ivanov's conference room. The police commisioner was speaking in front of the jail where Radjik attempted to break out of.

"I will do everything in my power to stop crime!" the commissioner said excitedly in front of his podium.

"This bloodshed will come to an end. No more drugs, shootings, pimps, robberies!"

His speach became more passionate.

"I'vvvve had ENOUGH!!! I personally declare war on crime! Ar their any questions the press would like answered?"

"Excuse me sir, who is responsible for this carnage today?" a press member asked.

[Commissioner] "We believe it to be the work of Radjik's former employees."

[Another press member] "What will be done to stop the corruption in the city?"

[Commissioner] "Already the national government has stepped in. The police departments are under the jurisdiction of the Novgovan State Police. Lipany also has sent CIB Organized Crime Task Forces to personally deal with crime."

[Press member loyal to Ivanov] "Is it true you are also using mercenaries to carry out illegal raids on businesses?"

The commissioner tightened his tie.

[Commissioner] "No comment at this time."

[Channel 2 reporter] "Exactly how do you expect to get crime off the streets?"

[Commissioner] "By any means necessary."

[Channel 4 reporter] "How was Radjik's escape foiled?"

[Commissioner] "A very bright and brave CIB individual alerted guards after he noticed something fishy. I see no sense in hiding him for he is a hero. Come on out."

Mitchell stepped onto the platform.

[Commissioner] "Ermm." The commissioner wasn't expecting that instead of Grey, Mitchell would be coming up.

[Commissioner] "This is his director, Director Mitchell."

[Director Mitchell] "I'm sorry Commissioner, but the man you have requested is busy doing other things right now."

[Commissioner] "There you go! A man dedicated to the expulsion of crime! No more questions will be answered at this time. Thank you."

The commissioner stepped off the platform with Mitchell into a secluded spot.

"Now you listen to me," the commissioner explained. "Don't you pull that sort of stunt again. When I asked for him, i expected him to be on stage. Not you."

Just then the commissioner cell phone rang. He looked at the number.

"I'll talk to you later, it's important." The commissioner ran away.

[Commisioner] "Hello? Who is this?"

"You know damn well who this is."

[Commisioner] "What do you want?"

[Ivanov] "You know damn well what I want."

[Commisioner sarcastically] "No, no I don't. Why don't you tell me?"

[Ivanov] "Big speech you made today. Big speech for a small, fat, balding man."

[Commisioner] "So you heard what I said?"

[Ivanov] "But I know what it is."

[Commisioner] "What's that?"

[Ivanov] "A joke. How do you expect to fight crime, Joe, when you are sleeping with whores?"

[Commisioner] "You blackmail me, and I'll send ya to prison."

[Ivanov] "Oh yeah, and while I'm on the stand I'll explain how you were able to afford that new Aston Martin you wanted so much. After all, it's not everyday a policeman buys an Aston on cops' pay. Isn't that right?"

[Commisioner] "What do you want me to do?"

[Ivanov] "I want you to find out who the newbies are in my city. I want you to ruin them everyway you can. I want them out."

[Commisioner] "Alright, I'll bite."

[Ivanov] "You always do."

*[i]click*

Ivanov hung up the phone more relaxed then he had been in a long time.

OOC: Until I am knocking at his door?

IC: Arthas got bored and with his other disguised bodyguards, made their way down to the kitchens where Arthas took over as head chef. And the quality of food went from a 2 or 3 star to a full 4 star.

OOC: Actually it as Novgova whom I'm having dealings with

Arthas was cooking in the kitchen, making ribs. He has the rack out and was getting ready to chop them with the meat cleaver when he heard the press conference over the radio. He looked up to one of the disguised gunmen in the kitchen.

"This comissioner, I don't like him. He's most likely wrapped around the little finger of one of our rivals, plus he's too charasmatic. Even if he isn't working to fight crime, he's getting the public too spirited." -Arthas picked up the cleaver and split the rack in half. "I want him dead."

Arthas's consigliere, a man by the name of Alex Rossi, walked in and whispered something into Arthas's ear. He put down the cleaver and walked out with Alex.

Arthas "So we have a visitor now? Has he been searched?"

Alex "Yes, the only harm he could do is with bare fists."

"Alright, you know the comissioner?"

"Yes, I heard the speech, and I think I already know what you are thinking, and we got a captain on our payroll now. Jimmy Haldenson. Head of the precincts on the coast, including the one we are in. Local boy. People love him. I think he's gonna be the perfect candidate to step in after the current comissioner has his untimely death."

"Great, let's head up to the meeting room, we got a few guards there, right?"

"Of course." Alex pulled out a walkie-talkie and called for two guards to escort the visitor up to the meeting room.

The visitor was lead in to a room with a long table, LCD projector, maps, and a few other various things. The two guards stayed, making 4 total, plus Arthas and Alex, out of disguise.

Arthas "Hello, I'm Arthas Scipius. Now may I ask who you are and why are you here?" His voice was polite, but no other emotion.

OOC: Actually it as Novgova whom I'm having dealings with

*Knock* *Knock*

Andrew paused.

*Knock*

He was glad that Mitchell let him skip out of the press conference.

"Any answer?"

Andrew turned around to another CIB agent, Alexa Gabrystilka, the sniper of the task force.

"No not yet."

"Hello? Hello? It's CIB."

*Knock* *Knock*

Andrew paused.

*Knock*

He was glad that Mitchell let him skip out of the press conference.

"Any answer?"

Andrew turned around to another CIB agent, Alexa Gabrystilka, the sniper of the task force.

"No not yet."

"Hello? Hello? It's CIB."

Santos stood, and drew back the deadbolt quickly. Opening the door a fraction, he looked out. One man he recognised, the other was new to him. The first one had been with Mitchell at their first meeting, "Mighty Leviathan, am I glad to see you guys".
He opened the door wide, and let them in,"Sorry it's in shit state at the moment. I just got back from my hit. However, I don't get paid until I find intel, and to do that I need floor plans for the strip joint"

OOC: I wondered why the IC post didn't come up on my Subscription list. Then I realised I hadn't posted.

Damn Stupid Fool :headbang:

I'll read up and post later on, got a History Essay to do... :rolleyes:

OOC: I wondered why the IC post didn't come up on my Subscription list. Then I realised I hadn't posted.

Damn Stupid Fool :headbang:

I'll read up and post later on, got a History Essay to do... :rolleyes:

OOC: That's fine. I just recently had to do a history essay as well. What is your essay on?

"AGH!" the man let out a scream as Mickey broke the man's right arm.

After the meeting between those two men had ceased, Mickey had followed the hitman outside the bar and had attacked him. The two were now fighting behind the bar building, in a dark alleyway.

The man lay quivering on the ground. Mickey now shifted to the next phase of his plan...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Entering the hotel lobby, Mickey smiled at Susie. "So, how are ya?' Susie just gaped as she saw Mickey, covered in dirt and grease pulling an unconsious man by his arm into the hotel.

"Ok boys, this is the hitman Scipius wants, take him to Arthas."

The lobby guards did so. Mickey winked at Susie, "If Arthas needs me, I'll be taking a shower..."

Susie shook her head and reached under the desk and pulled out a key she tossed to Mickey. "Room 1307, it's yours. Mr. Scipius likes to take care of his better employees. It's the floor right under his main offices and conference rooms. Arthas is in a meeting now with some stranger, he probably wouldn't mind an interruption for good news after you clean up. When you're done with whatnot, you can come back down here, business hours are almost over"

"Mr. Mayor!"
"...accusations of credit card fraud on your..."
"Mr. Mayor, what do you have to say about the Commissioner's pledge to crack down on all crime in the city?"

Vladislav Sokoll weaved through the mob of reporters to his limousine, looking for the longest answer he could give with the least substance.

"I think it is all well and fine the Commissioner wishes to put a halt on this recent fluctuation in crime. Of course, we all do. But I don't see how he could start his Department on such an ambitious and ambiguously-worded goal. Furthermore, I strongly feel any attempt to arrest illegal activities in our city must be in compliance with our rights as citizens. We cannot establish a police state in the name of safety. However, I don't feel I should be prying into intimate police affairs-Excuse me, I must be going."

Sokoll stepped into his limo and poured himself a stiff drink. His business manager, Mstislav Susov, was already in the car.

"Anything new, Mstislav?"

"I got a call from Tizaki. He wants the mall authorization pushed through now."

"Hmm." An abandoned shopping center in the city had recently become a hangout for gangster's dealers and hoods. He now wanted permission from City Hall to re-develop the site, and provide a legitimate front to his "transactions".

"I say we do it, sir. We can't pussyfoot around Ivanov anymore. He's no longer useful to us. Yes, this mall'll finally put Ivanov on our bad side, of that I'm sure. He won't be comfortable with Tizaki's turf expanding. But, if we have only mediocre relations with both Ivanov and the truly big players, that won't guarantee us enough votes for re-election."

Sokoll put down his drink and looked at Susov quizzically. Susov straightened his tie.

"That's to say, Mr. Mayor, you could get enough votes on your own. But with the political climate in this city, the gangs will prop someone up in office otherwise."

Susov hit a little too close to their current position for both of the mens' tastes.

"How about the Commissioner, Vladislav?" asked Susov.

Sokoll chuckled. "I don't think it would be in his best interest to put an end to criminal activity in this city." Sokoll thought for a moment, and his mood soured. "But we're not even sure whose payroll he is on. I like to know what is happening around me, Mstislav."

"Of course. But you'll notice, sir, he's been quite cold towards us. After we push through Tizaki's mall, we should watch him. If he becomes even less...receptive, then I would wager he us earning his keep from Ivanov."

"True, Mstislav, true."

Santos stood, and drew back the deadbolt quickly. Opening the door a fraction, he looked out. One man he recognised, the other was new to him. The first one had been with Mitchell at their first meeting, "Mighty Leviathan, am I glad to see you guys".
He opened the door wide, and let them in,"Sorry it's in shit state at the moment. I just got back from my hit. However, I don't get paid until I find intel, and to do that I need floor plans for the strip joint"

"That's alright," Andrew said.

"As for floor plans, I'm afraid we can't help you. Many buildings change in the city, often without consulting the city. Thus many plans are outdated because owners add or take away fire escapes, walls, windows, etc. It is a conventional arrangement though, the entertainment area and bar are on the first floor with the dressing rooms in the back, and the floor above contain offices. I'm afraid, however, most of your information is going to be found out yourself."

Alexa butted in. "Although by now most of the information has been destroyed since Demistrovak's death. It'll be tough to find information. Ivanov has lasted this long because he is able to cover his tracks well. You won't find it sitting in the open, I'll assure you that. However, there are several other places you can look. He has a cafe, restaurant, warehouses apartments, etc all over the city. How you can get in is the tricky part."

"If you still want to see floor plans, we can take you to city hall, but it closes at nine o'clock so you'd have to decide now." Andrew Grey said.

"That's alright," Andrew said.

"As for floor plans, I'm afraid we can't help you. Many buildings change in the city, often without consulting the city. Thus many plans are outdated because owners add or take away fire escapes, walls, windows, etc. It is a conventional arrangement though, the entertainment area and bar are on the first floor with the dressing rooms in the back, and the floor above contain offices. I'm afraid, however, most of your information is going to be found out yourself."

Alexa butted in. "Although by now most of the information has been destroyed since Demistrovak's death. It'll be tough to find information. Ivanov has lasted this long because he is able to cover his tracks well. You won't find it sitting in the open, I'll assure you that. However, there are several other places you can look. He has a cafe, restaurant, warehouses apartments, etc all over the city. How you can get in is the tricky part."

"If you still want to see floor plans, we can take you to city hall, but it closes at nine o'clock so you'd have to decide now." Andrew Grey said.


If it closes at nine, then theres no point. I'll have to get in my own way, and I say that the roof is a good place to start. But, I'll need cover, just to watch my back on the approach*Looks at Alexa* You're a sniper, interested? I just need cover till I get in, then I'll be ok

Arthas was cooking in the kitchen, making ribs. He has the rack out and was getting ready to chop them with the meat cleaver when he heard the press conference over the radio. He looked up to one of the disguised gunmen in the kitchen.

"This comissioner, I don't like him. He's most likely wrapped around the little finger of one of our rivals, plus he's too charasmatic. Even if he isn't working to fight crime, he's getting the public too spirited." -Arthas picked up the cleaver and split the rack in half. "I want him dead."

Arthas's consigliere, a man by the name of Alex Rossi, walked in and whispered something into Arthas's ear. He put down the cleaver and walked out with Alex.

Arthas "So we have a visitor now? Has he been searched?"

Alex "Yes, the only harm he could do is with bare fists."

"Alright, you know the comissioner?"

"Yes, I heard the speech, and I think I already know what you are thinking, and we got a captain on our payroll now. Jimmy Haldenson. Head of the precincts on the coast, including the one we are in. Local boy. People love him. I think he's gonna be the perfect candidate to step in after the current comissioner has his untimely death."

"Great, let's head up to the meeting room, we got a few guards there, right?"

"Of course." Alex pulled out a walkie-talkie and called for two guards to escort the visitor up to the meeting room.

The visitor was lead in to a room with a long table, LCD projector, maps, and a few other various things. The two guards stayed, making 4 total, plus Arthas and Alex, out of disguise.

Arthas "Hello, I'm Arthas Scipius. Now may I ask who you are and why are you here?" His voice was polite, but no other emotion.

"I'm pretty sure that you know why I'm here and who I'm working for but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Ivanov has called a meeting of all the major mafias, crime families, etc in the city.

(OOC: Hint! Hint! to all the people in this RP)

It'll be two o'clock tommorrow at Brown Brick Restaurant. Be there."

OOC: Goody! A meeting of all the organized crime in the area

If it closes at nine, then theres no point. I'll have to get in my own way, and I say that the roof is a good place to start. But, I'll need cover, just to watch my back on the approach*Looks at Alexa* You're a sniper, interested? I just need cover till I get in, then I'll be ok


"Now?" Alexa asked.

"I could but it seems that either you drive or we all go with Grey here."

"It's been a long day for me, I'm tired, so I think it'll be just you and Santos," Andrew said. "You go have fun."

"Now?" Alexa asked.

"I could but it seems that either you drive or we all go with Grey here."

"It's been a long day for me, I'm tired, so I think it'll be just you and Santos," Andrew said. "You go have fun."

Of course now! I'll drive, don't worry bout it, I already spent the afternoon planning this

OOC: Goody! A meeting of all the organized crime in the area

OOC: Yep. Anything will happen now. (The cops, mayor, CIB, mobs and well basically everyone can be involved at the same time now and each "side" can now get things done.)

Of course now! I'll drive, don't worry bout it, I already spent the afternoon planning this

"Let's go!" Alexa said

Andrew left the room to his car and drove away, leaving Alexa and Santos alone.

You got a rifle? If not, I've got some you can use. Don't worry about adjusting them, I have all the figures right up here in my head*taps his temple*. Just lemme get changed*removes outer layers of clothing, to reveal a Sneaking Suit* You like? It's called Smart Skin in the R&D, but SHADOW calls it the Skull Suit

You got a rifle? If not, I've got some you can use. Don't worry about adjusting them, I have all the figures right up here in my head*taps his temple*. Just lemme get changed*removes outer layers of clothing, to reveal a Sneaking Suit* You like? It's called Smart Skin in the R&D, but SHADOW calls it the Skull Suit

"I was in the military once," Alexa said. "I remember hearing about those, although I never used one myself. and no, I don't have a rifle on me right now."

Nice kit, these are. If I'm feeling generous, I'll get you one. They are graet for snipers. I used to be in the military as well, but now I work freelance. The rifles are in the boot of my car, you can choose down there

Alexa and Santos went down to his car.

OOC: What rifles does he have?

Mickey got the memo...he was a bit skeptical. All the crime families in one spot, together? It smelled like trouble. And from whaqt he had seen on the news, the cops were chomping at the bit.

In the end though, he figured he might as well go. He wasnt in the mood for a date even if Susie could, the TV only got 4 channels (3 porno and one religous) , and he didnt know or want to know anyone else in the building. Mickey fell asleep, awaiting tommorow.

Alexa and Santos went down to his car.

OOC: What rifles does he have?

OOC: A Heckler & Koch MSG90-A1 DMR, and a British Army L96. Check world.guns.ru for details. Both are 7.62mm, and both carry a 6x42 Heldsodt scope for the purpose of this thread. The first is a semi-automatic, the second is bolt-action

IC: Santos pulled away from the curb,"So, how long have you worked for CIB?"

OC: trying to make small talk

The phone rang twice before Radi picked it up.

"Ja...ein meeting?...zwei am Brown Brick Restuarant...okay...erklären ihm, daß wir dort...aufwiederhören." He put the phone down and turned to Klaus, who was still standing at the window.

"Ivanov wants a meeting. All the families in the city will be at the Brown Brick Restaurant at two tomorrow. I told him we'd be there."

"That Bumser has the nerve to shoot my friend and then ask to meet me?"

"Perhaps it's a peace offering."

"People like him never want peace. They revel in the chaos that is war and rivalry. As long as people like Ivanov exist, there can never be peace. I'll go, but I want some protection...you hear what I am saying?"

"Yes, Klaus. I'll get Lars on it now."

Arthas sat back in his chair, dismissing the visitor, but having a guard give him back his weapons. There has to be some honor these days, Arthas thought as he turned the idea over in his head. Alex was doing the same.

Arthas "What do you think of that?"

Alex "I think we do it."

"Yeah, we're walking though, it's not too far of a walk to the restaurant"

"This is the perfect opportunity. We are new here, but easily one of the most powerful for our size. This will give us a chance to meet everyone and maybe... maybe star a coalition, against the cops. Not wipe them out, but get them to back down."

"Yes, that'll be a good idea. Who should we bring?"

"You, me, 10 or 15..." Interupted

"No, I think, that we should so that we aren't afraid. I don't think anybody will try anything in front of the other families, this is done on pieceful terms. I say you, me, Susie, she can keep notes, plus I want her to have experience, I'm thinking of promoting her soon, she's a good girl, we're lucky to have her. Tad lonely seeming though. Hmm."

"That's it? That's all? Nobody else? We should have at least a couple people, some of the other factions will probably have everyone they can spare. Can we really trust everyone, and what if the police find out?"

"If the police find out and attack the place, I doubt we will be alone. I think it is important that we show trust, good leverage. However, I think we can bring a few more people, that new kid Mickey, make him feel welcome, I will also bring the two underbosses, Little Hank and Pyotr, and Sal From The Docks, who is in the warehouses now."

"Hmm... alright, good enough."

"We'll bring the umbrella of course."

The umbrella refered to a large mobile pavillion that was light and on wheels, it happened to be bulletproof too, protecting the people under it from snipers.

The next morning, everyone got up, got under the umbrella, and started walking.

Dmitri paced slowly around the grimy port's boardwalk, carefully taking in any information he could hear. It was his first time in this city, and he was searching for the mob his old mafia partner Mikhael had told him about. Apparently, the city government was in the mob too. The gaunt Phreyaian shook his head to himself silently. It was typical, really, he thought. He'd seen alot worse situations in his nineteen years, however. He shook himself. No time for reminiscence, he told himself.

"...the Brown Brick Resteraunt, yeah. Yeah, the boss himself is comin' too," a man with a cell phone drawled. "Yeah, yeah, Bruno. Hey, I hear the mayor's daughter is gonna be there, eh? She's quite a looker!" The short man's jovial mood suddenly changed to a moody growl. "What d'ya mean I couldn't get her? You little--", and what followed was two minutes worth of unprintable obscenity.

Dmitri Vassikin speculatively listened, pretending to be interested in a vendor selling lollipops. A short man in a suit with a bowler's cap? Not to mention the usual mobster language? It had to be.

As soon as the rotund little man was finished ranting at the person on the other end of the line, Vassikin walked silently over to him. He tapped him on the shoulder.

The man turned around and bellowed, "Yeah buddy? You gotsa problem?"

"No, but I couldn't help overhearing that there was an arrangement at the Brown Brick Resteraunt tomorrow? May I ask what the occasion is?"

The man noticed that Dmitri was holding out a wad of cash in his palm. "Well..."

10 minutes later..

"I see," Dmitri commented dryly.

"Hey, kid, just what family who do you belong to? The Antonellis? You seem to be pretty interested in our affairs." The man with the bowler's hat looked at him strangely. Dmitri slowly turned his head to look back at the man.

"I'm afraid not." With a quick stab, Dmitri easily executed the puny man before him. He chuckled quietly to himself, almost as though he enjoyed doing it. Vassikin pulled the wad of money out of the dead man's pocket, and threw him into the ocean. Now he had all the information he wanted. He would be there, at two. He would be there.

Mickey walked along under the umbrella with Arthas's gang. He saw Susie there and gave her a big wink, to which she responded with a blush.

He did feel a bit nervous, he still didnt like the idea of everyone being in one spot at the same time, it made him a bit uneasy. Sure, the mobs might not do anything, but that was no guarantee that the cops would relax. They would obvoiusly notice all of the gangs were leaving their place of operation to be at this meeting. Mickey started going over in his head what he was gonna do. Though he really didnt mind dying (OOC: note this doesnt mean i wont be pissed if he dies!), he had a certain soft spot for the members of Arthas's mob, and would hate to see such talent blown away by a trigger- happy cop.

Mickey walked up next to Arthas and conveyed his concerns...

OOC: Don't worry there Mickey, why do you always pack extra random characters? Cannon fodder.

IC:
"Mickey, you're good to point that out, you're going places here, you're smart. Still, think about it, we have 7 armed people total, and we have eliminated the threat of snipers. Besides, Sal From The Docks here..." Sal, a short thin guy with a killer mustache grunted "...used to be an army medic, we're in good hands."

They continued walking, Little Hank and Pyotr running to two steering poles of the umbrella, which, despite sounding hokey, proved to be a very good invention there. Come in handy if you forgot cover or sunglasses. Susie walked on the inside, farthest from the street, Mickey to her left, Sal From The Docks to his left. In front of those three, behind Little Hank and Pyotr walked Arthas and Alex, Arthas on the right. Arthas was somewhat optimistic for once. Alex looked a tad nervous, but confident, as much because Arthas was. Sal From The Docks was an older guy, and looked happy to be doing some work again. Little Hank and Pyotr were looking around like tourists, but they were watching for any threat. Susie looked a bit nervous, and a bit confused, wondering why she was going.

As he drove, Santos became aware of a babble of noise on his intercept radio, "the Brown Brick Resteraunt, yeah. Yeah, the boss himself is comin' too,".
He glanced at Alexa,"You got a direct line to the CIB? I think something is going down at the Brown Brick"
Without waiting for an answer, he spun the car through its entire length, speeding back the way he had come. It wasn't far to the Brown Bricks, and he wanted to check this out...

The Brown Brick Restaurant was emptied out for the special occasion. However, after more than a few curious passerbys stopped by to try to peer in the window, it was clear the meeting was leaked out to the whole city. Things aren't a secret in the big city.

Therefore, Ivanov didn't show up to the Brown Brick Restaurant but instead made reservations at a nearby hotel at the last minute. Mob members entering the Brown Brick Restaurant would instead be filtered into vans in the back of the restaurant and driven over to the hotel where they would commence the meeting. Only his most loyal henchmen would know of the plan, thus confusing the city into thinking the mobs were meeting at the restaurant.

Not even the mobs coming to the restaurant would know the truth until they got to the restaurant and a henchman waiting there would tell them of the new plans. No communications would be leaked out at all this time not even to the participants themselves until they would be physically inside the restaurants. No mistakes this time.

((If' I'm not invited, sorry, disregard this.))

The Day Before
"Of course, Vladislav, our interests must be represented, but that doesn't mean you have to attend."

Sokoll took a long drag on his cigar. "Not to imply you are incapable, but I know my interests best. And what is best for me, is best for you. This way, you won't have to be stumped should a matter arise on which you don't know my opinion."

Susov frowned. Controlling bastard. "True, I suppose, but think...people could see...what if the police show up? Or the God damned CIB? It would be ruinious."

"The police will not show up. As for being seen..." Sokoll threw up his hat and caught it. "You'll speak for me. And I'll be sure to dress in something not befitting the mayor. Quite useless for those who will be in the room with me, but no one should catch a picture of me."

"If you insist..."

OOC: Sorry Mikatopia for doing a bit of control to your character. Trying to keep things going. If you want Mickey to say something form a past event, just note it, for I am easily confused.

IC:
Arthas led everyone behind the restaurant to park the Umbrella, and saw the vans. He asked about it, and with just an answer, happily got in the vans. Little Hank though, being a classic in demolitions, checked the van for anything. He gave the thumbs up and got in the back, everyone filed suit. On the left side, Sal From The Docks, Pyotr and Little Hank sat. His name was really a joke, as he took up the space of two people on the seats in back. On the right, was Arthas, Alex, Mickey and Susie, in that order, Susie closest to the door.

Is was pretty quiet in the van, aside from the occasional busy talk. Susie was a bit tired and, in a bit of absent-mindedness, leaner her head on Mickey's shoulder, not really realizing it.

Once the van pulled into the hotel, the group followed the unmarked signs into the large private conference room, other than the hosts, they were the first people there. Instead of taking seats at the table, they decided to wait for others to get there, sitting on a long cushioned bench that went around the whole edge of the room, same seating as in the van. Susie resumed her leaning on Mickey. Aside from her and him, the rest of the group were kicked back, kind of glaring silently, looking much like the opening sequence to Clockwork Orange.

OOC: Hey, is it too late to join in? If it is, that is ok. I would like to rp an Arden Liberation Front agent coming to Port Smolensk to help aquire arms for the coming conflicts.

OOC: No, I'm pretty sure you can join. This thing is open after all, right now, all the bigwigs are at a meeting in a hotel, if you haven't read, you can join the meeting if you want, it's for any influential person in town. Read up and join in I say.

OOC: Its ooook Arthaga

IC: Mickey felt Susies head touch his shoulder. He should have been pleased..but now was job time, he didnt have time to be grabassing. Not that he discouraged it , actually it felt pretty good...

As the group waited more, Sal finally broke the silence. "We could've slept in." And with that, the busy talk started, ad Susie came out of her daze and got an embarrassed look on her face. "I'm sorry Mr. Ciceroni. I didn't mean it" She was subconciously begging for someone to interrupt the moment, and Alex was her savior for the moment.

Alex "Hey, I never got to talk to you yet. Alexei Rossi, consigliere to this bum here." He had one hand out to shake Mickey's hand and the other was slugging Arthas in the arm, who slugged Alex back and got up to 'use the restrooms' he said. When he came back, he walked over to his oh-so-gracious host, the man who arranged the meeting.

He slowly approached, and knelt down in a bow and stood up. "My name is Arthas Scipius, it's an honor sir."

1:35 PM, Downtown Port Smolensk

Dmitri wore his nicest trenchcoat for the meeting. His only trenchcoat, rather. Inside, he carried two weighted assassin daggers. You never know, the police could get involved with matters, and before you know it, the media would be rushing to the scene. An absolute disaster.

He left his penthouse on Oakcrest Hill and took the elevator down 40 stories. He then stepped into the marble lobby and nodded at the doorman.

"A bit brisk outside, sir. I don't blame you for dressing up heavily." Dmitri stopped in his tracks and turned to face the middle-aged doorman. A scowl was forming on Dmitri's face.

"There is a leak in my bathroom. Penthouse apartment. Fix it by the time I get back. Disgusting, really, for how much I pay to stay here."

"Yes, sir. Of course." The doorman hurriedly nodded his head in agreement. Always agree with the residents. Especially that one, the doorman thought to himself. I'll get Bruno on the leak right now.

Vassikin walked through the revolving doors, into the hustle and bustle of city life. He'd never get used to it. Nevertheless, he called a taxi over and ordered the driver to take him to the Brown Brick Resteraunt.

"Two-hundred in cash if you can get me there fast," Dmitri grinned as he handed the driver a fistful of cash. Within two minutes, they were at the meeting location.

"Good man," Dmitri said. "Now wait here until I come out."

With slight apprehension, Vassikin approached the doors. He reached for the handle . . .

Mickey grinned at Alex, he seemed like a good guy, you could tell where he stood. His handshake was firm, not weak and frail, you knew he was shaking your hand.

Mickey looked back at Susie, "Hey, no big deal," he winked , " you have a beautfially-shaped head to go along with that divine face." He laughed at his bad joke.

Fifteen minutes after Arthus Scipius entered the room, another two men entered the room. They were from the Eastern Bloc mob that consisted of mostly Latvian, Lithuanian, and Estonian members. The quickly sat down at the opposite end of the room, avoiding all talk before the meeting began.

In contrast, the next two people to arrive, Russian mafia members, were laughing and talking aloud in their native tongue. Next, Jacques Blanchard of the "Black Cat" mob, so called because of the clothes the henchmen wear, sat next to Arthus and his group. His mob revolved around stealing and selling art and automobiles and were probably the most peaceful of the mobs in the room.

Boris Kondrashov and Joseph Salliano heads of two local mobs, came in next. By this time, waiters were offering shrimp cocktails and other little nibblets of food. The Cortlandt family, one of the leading drug dealers came in five minutes later.

When Daniel Evans of the Evans gang, a British mafia, came in all heads turned. Daniel Evans brought his trusted wife, a very beautiful woman that was once a supermodel, to the meeting. They unfortunately sat next to the Russian mob members, who had gotten drunk waiting for Ivanov to start the meeting. After a few advances on Daniel Evans' wife (right in front of Daniel Evans too) they eventually moved to the other side of the room.

Eva Kokoska, the only female mob head, entered the room with her trusty assisstant Ronald, a close friend of Ivanov.

OOC: Everybody who's in the meeting better come now or forever hold their peace. Events, however, will be going on during the meeting so it is not "vital" to be at the meeting if you do not want to go.

Susie smiled and weakly laughed, and scooched away from Mickey a bit, that is, until the Black Cats showed up, upon which she moved in real close to Mickey, a tad nervous now that others were showing up, kind of clinging to him.

Alex continued talking to Mickey, half giving him a history lesson on the local mobs, and half telling jokes and great stories that would cause some of the people who had just entered to beat the crap out of him. He seemed the complete opposite of Arthas. While Arthas was cold, lifeless, and antisocial, Alex was warm, friendly, energetic and loved to laugh, often the light of the party. Back in his days before the only events he attended were things such as these, he'd often come stumbling back into the hotel in the early hours of the night, half drunk with a girl for each shoulder.

Arthas decided to go meet some of the other groups. He approached Eva Kokoska and got down on his knees and touched his forehead to the ground, standing up and offering his hand. "Hello, my name is Arthas Scipius, it is a great honor to meet you ma'am." he said, working his 'full diplomatic aura' as Alex had once put it.

Vassikin entered into the elegant establishment. He glanced at the wall and saw a painting of white on white canvas. The brass caption read, "Snow Ghost". Vassikin tuttered. He walked into the main hall and automatically could deter which group were the mob members. A bunch of a husky yakuts as well as beautiful women. These wered definitely mafia. Dmitri quickly devised a way to seem like a regular member of this congregation.

"Excuse me, sir," Dmitri said to a waiter. The waiter glanced up from the reservations list.

"Can I help you?" he squeaked at the Phreyaian in front of him. His clothes were the right size, but his tiny voice didn't fit his bulging stature.

"Yes, can you lead me to the restrooms?"

"They're right down there, sir," the waiter pointed down a long a hall. Perfect.

"I'm very nearsighted. Could you show me exactly where?" The waiter sighed and obliged. Once they were halfway down the hall, Dmitri quickly extracted one of his weighted assassin knives from his coat pocket and slitted the man's throat from behind. There was no time for threatening the man to give Dmitri his waiter's uniform. Kill first, ask questions later. Dmitri chuckled his dry, mirthless laugh. He dragged the dead man into the restroom and stuffed him in an air vent. As though the vent was needed, Dmitri scoffed to himself. The air in this city is terrible. His plan was to get one of the mafia members sitting at the table to temporarily accept him for the remainder of the meeting. First, he'd have to get their attention secretly.

A bit humiliated, Vassikin donned the waiter's outfit. He put his other belongings in a restroom stall. This is it, he told himself.

He took long strides into the dining area, and, for all the luck in the world of the poor man he was about to speak to, the man was in the middle of bowing and his head was on the ground, for God's sake. Dmitri politely tapped the man on his shoulder. "Phone call for you, sir," he smiled, pouring charm into every last word.

Sokoll walked into the room head down, coat buttoned to the chin. He looked like a fool, but it had most likely gotten the job done; he had entered without a word being spoken to him.

Susov walked in confidently, and sat down with his associate at a far table.

"God, Mstislav, not only do I feel like an idiot, I'm a bit nervous with all these people."

"Did I not tell you to stay? Did I not? Leave me to the speaking, sir, and it will be alright," comforted Susov.

(Sorry for the short post, just getting them into the meeting.)

"Would you excuse me, ma'am?" Arthas said to Eva after his introduction and turned to the waiter. "A phone call? For me? I believe you are sadly mistaken." He tapped on a pocket. "Cell phone. If anybody needed me, they'd call me on here." He lowered his voice to a whisper "And if I wasn't trying to show some class here, I'd put one in your head right now. The only reason we are over at this hotel is for security, nobody is supposed to know we are here. I believe that Ivanov's men are smart enough to not redirect calls here, for media or police may be watching the lines. Plus, look at you, you look too young, too athletic, too tactful to be a mere waiter in a hotel in a slummy seaport. So, I am going to turn around and continue with my business and you can go about doing whatever you are doing, and I won't say a word. And if you are being honest, I apologize for the fright, and you can tell whoever is on the phone to call my cell or my office." His hand, in the course of patting his cell phone pocket, also happened to be near his sword, he didn't want to use it, but he was ready.

Vassikin entered into the elegant establishment. He glanced at the wall and saw a painting of white on white canvas. The brass caption read, "Snow Ghost". Vassikin tuttered. He walked into the main hall and automatically could deter which group were the mob members. A bunch of a husky yakuts as well as beautiful women. These wered definitely mafia. Dmitri quickly devised a way to seem like a regular member of this congregation.

"Excuse me, sir," Dmitri said to a waiter. The waiter glanced up from the reservations list.

"Can I help you?" he squeaked at the Phreyaian in front of him. His clothes were the right size, but his tiny voice didn't fit his bulging stature.

"Yes, can you lead me to the restrooms?"

"They're right down there, sir," the waiter pointed down a long a hall. Perfect.

"I'm very nearsighted. Could you show me exactly where?" The waiter sighed and obliged. Once they were halfway down the hall, Dmitri quickly extracted one of his weighted assassin knives from his coat pocket and slitted the man's throat from behind. There was no time for threatening the man to give Dmitri his waiter's uniform. Kill first, ask questions later. Dmitri chuckled his dry, mirthless laugh. He dragged the dead man into the restroom and stuffed him in an air vent. As though the vent was needed, Dmitri scoffed to himself. The air in this city is terrible. His plan was to get one of the mafia members sitting at the table to temporarily accept him for the remainder of the meeting. First, he'd have to get their attention secretly.

A bit humiliated, Vassikin donned the waiter's outfit. He put his other belongings in a restroom stall. This is it, he told himself.

He took long strides into the dining area, and, for all the luck in the world of the poor man he was about to speak to, the man was in the middle of bowing and his head was on the ground, for God's sake. Dmitri politely tapped the man on his shoulder. "Phone call for you, sir," he smiled, pouring charm into every last word.

OOC: I just thought I'd let you know that being that there would be a lot of mob heads at the party you would:

a: not know of the location of the hotel (although this guy being a smart guy, I gave the benefit of the doubt that he trailed the vans or something to the hotel)

b: be stopped by extensive security, ie many guards on rooftops, entrances, etc.

c: be frisked for weapons . Everyone, and I mean everyone would be frisked for weapons. Everyone is not allowed past restricted areas (or into non-restricted areas) without being frisked for not only weapons, but also bugs, electronic devices, etc.

Note: I am not trying to "attack" your post in any way because slipping into into a waiter's suit is genius but be aware that your weapons would most likely be found. Also, the slightest inconsitancy, ie a dead person, blood stains as a slit to the neck would do, or a different waiter (as I'm sure the other waiters would notice) would result in the cancellation of the meeting and the careful guarding of all members in the room.

As for you and everyone else, I'm sorry I didn't make this clear before. I assumed that everyone knew they were frisked at some point in this trip (ie at the Brown Brick and/or again at the hotel. Otherwise, say someone didn't like the Ruskies, or Ivanov, and pulled at a gun and shot them, then it'd be a very ugly meeting with no one left and more blood than the blood bank in a local hospital. To insure everyone's safety, everyone is frisked (that means you too Arthaga, and even Ivanov himself is not impervious).

Although I did find a slight inconsistancy that could still make sense so that your post Phreya would still be of some sense. If he could not bring his own swords and knives in, it doesn't mean he couldn't kill the waiter (with his hands by snapping the waiter's neck) and sneak into the kitchen where there are knives and then speak to Arthas if that's alright with you.

Otherwise your post makes little sense (there are guards and a slit throat too many will attract attention).

OOC: Aha, good catch Novgova. I was wondering about that. I was going to have Arthas reacing for a gun, but I thought again and decided to have him go for his ceremonial sword, because some may not consider that something to take away. Graci.

By the way, Novgova, while I am addressing you, I was wondering, like how I am having my characters start to interact with the other bigwigs you brought in, are you going to RP them?

PS: At least I caught the van part, the change of the location. -Feels smart for once-

OOC: ok, but, i wasn't aware that there was extensive security like you said. i will edit my post after school.

By the way, Novgova, while I am addressing you, I was wondering, like how I am having my characters start to interact with the other bigwigs you brought in, are you going to RP them?


OOC: Yeah, I guess so. Why not?

OOC: ok, but, i wasn't aware that there was extensive security like you said. i will edit my post after school.

OOC: Again, I apologize for the inconvience this has caused. I apologize to everyone.

OOC: I'll tell you what's inconvient. Ppl forgetting my char exists. Hes driving past the Brown Brick, with a CIB sniper in his car. I reckon I'll have him hit the strip joint, whilst everyone's mob's are occupied

Mickey looked around the room at the various mobs present, placing the names and faces into his memory. To be honest, he had expected less from these gangs, they looked like they could handle themselves, but a select few would, or could, rise to domination. There were groups he could tell that were just flashy...nothing special.

Standing up, he spoke loudly so all could hear. "Mr. Ivanov, we thank you for inviting us to this event, but what is the purpose of this meeting?"

Right as Mickey said that, Arthas, still hoping to meet Eva, made a quick glance at Alex and Alex whipsered under his breath to Mickey "What'd you think you're doing?" Susie looked up at Mickey with a confused look on his face and the other guys looked at each other with a glance that said one thing "Rookie..."

Alex quickly stood up "I believe what my associate, though blunt, was trying to say is that it appears everyone who was going to show up has indeed shown up, so he is simply asking if we all should sit down at the table and begin this meeting." He put his arm on Mickey's shoulder and casually but firmly gave it a few hard squeezes, trying to get him to go along with it.

OOC: I'll tell you what's inconvient. Ppl forgetting my char exists. Hes driving past the Brown Brick, with a CIB sniper in his car. I reckon I'll have him hit the strip joint, whilst everyone's mob's are occupied

What're you talking about, what are we supposed to do?

What're you talking about, what are we supposed to do?

You know what I'm on about. Isn't the first time its happened either. I'll edit this later, I'm doing this almost under the teachers nose

"Indeed," Mickey said, looking around the room, looking straight into the eyes of all present, "but what I really mean is that, well, honestly, I do not trust a single one of you. This business is not one of trust, and none of us have stayed alive for this long trusting people.

" I do not wish to stay here any longer than I must, as you know, the police are out in force and, as I said, I do not trust any of you. I don't care how tactful I am or not, I simply wish to preform the duties I must in order to get this done. You are probably wondering who I am, well, I have no desire to reveal that to you at this time."

Mickey knew he had broken custom and protocol, but he just wanted to get this over with.

Alex whipser-hissed to Mickey "Sit down now and keep quiet until the meeting does start or Arthas is going to come over here and use your corpse to keep a table from wobbling." He gave kind of a re-assuring look. "Don't worry, I'll get this meeting started" Turning to everyone and saying aloud "My colleague hear seems to have some tight opinions here on trust, I can assure you though our organization does not want a relationship with you all that is surrounded with suspicion. Still though, we should not look down on him, as there are indeed some people who should not be trusted, I am not saying any of them are in here. Most of them are probably the organizations who declined invitation to this meeting." Alex stood up and began to approach the table. "Still though, my friend Mickey here, our friend, does bring up a good point. The police are out and about, the security may get a little comfy with the uninterruption, and there are no doubt our common enemies planning something. The longer we wait, the worse our condition gets, so I'd like to make a motion to commence this great meeting, our organizations inaugural meeting."

****Meanwhile, downtown, police headquarters, city hall****

A man in a real standard, generic suit walks into the commissioner's office. He was already frisked and checked and was clean. "Hello, I hear you have had some troubles with the local mafias. I represent a group of freelancers who would like to help clean up. Our leader, along with everyone, is at the airport right now in our private plane. Our leader would like to meet with you. Since we are under investigation by the UN, we are prepared to do this for cheap or free, as a community service. Our leader would be here himself, but he suffered a few gunshot wounds in our last action and is bed-ridden. We have a limo outside to take you down there, or you can just take your own vehicle to the tarmac, which ever you want."

OOC: Well I just wanted to wait a little longer until South Ossetia came if he's even in this RP anymore and so that you guys could talk to the mayor (aka Napoleon)

IC: The rest of the mobs grumbled at the sight of the scene Arthas and his companion created. Eva, acknowledging this, spoke in Arthas's defense.

"I'm afraid they are new to the town as apparently, they aren't used to mafia meetings. As we all know, Ivanov likes to keep us waiting. It's not their fault, if we were in any other city, this meeting would be over with."

"Well you keep those bastards away from us and our turf!" screamed one of the Russian mob members.

"Shut up you drunk!" Eva snapped back.

"Good call, good call," the Russian mob member said before sitting back down.

Just then Ivanov burst through the double doors.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, though I use those with the loosest of terms, and welcome to this fabulous meeting," Ivanov said sarcastically.

"This isn't exactly my meeting alone, I have other members to thank. Please give Boris Kondrashov, Joseph Stalliano, and Daniel Evans a hand of applause."

Everyone gave a round of applause.

"As everyone knows, we've been here thirty, forty years. We're the oldest mobs in the city. We remember when there was honor, trust."

Ivanov looked at Mickey.

"I remember when each person knew his own turf. But now..."

Ivanov paused.

"...Now, there's nothing. Nobody's safe. Thugs beating up women in broad daylight. People selling drugs, to seven year olds. Pimps picking up twelve year old girls. Glue sniffers in the alleyways. None of this was here when we ruled. No its disorder. Bloody disorder. There's a whole bunch of nobody's and nothings in the city now, leeching off the city anyway they can!"

Ivanov gave Arthas an evil look.

"The city's gone to hell now. Where has the honor gone? I'll tell you. It's gone into these nobodies, these idiots! Let me tell you people something. There was a time when you could walk down the street and everyone knew each other. There was a time when you could walk down the street and not have to worry about getting mugged or being attacked by drug-addicted whores."

"And you Ruskies! Let me tell you something. You dirty thugs, kidnapping women off the streets for prostitution, selling drugs in schools, shooting up houses and apartments, no one is safe. Carjackers murders, pimps, you're no better than the small-time trash. You're worse! You all deserve to die, every last one of you."

"Just one minute here!" One of the Russian mobsters said angrily. "Damn you and your mob! We do whatever the hell we want! Screw you bigshot! Think you're so mighty. Wait until your head is smashed by my bat,"

"We'll see."

Instantly Ivanov threw the Russian out of his chair and into the corner of a wooden table and then punching the guy's face twice.

"I'm offering to all you small-timers to get out of the city now, or face the consequences. And believe me, it'll look a lot worse than this man over here."

"This city belongs to us. The Kondrashov's, Stalliano's, Evans', Kokosko's, and the Ivanov's. Everyone else get out!"

A man in a real standard, generic suit walks into the commissioner's office. He was already frisked and checked and was clean. "Hello, I hear you have had some troubles with the local mafias. I represent a group of freelancers who would like to help clean up. Our leader, along with everyone, is at the airport right now in our private plane. Our leader would like to meet with you. Since we are under investigation by the UN, we are prepared to do this for cheap or free, as a community service. Our leader would be here himself, but he suffered a few gunshot wounds in our last action and is bed-ridden. We have a limo outside to take you down there, or you can just take your own vehicle to the tarmac, which ever you want."

The commsioner barely even acted like the man was even in the room.

"Oh great, another vigilante. Tarmacs and limos, eh? Well aren't you spiffy. The UN is investigating you? Sure they are. You want to apply, you can file the paperwork with city hall and we'll get back to you, alright? I have other work to attend to. Good day."

OOC: I'll tell you what's inconvient. Ppl forgetting my char exists. Hes driving past the Brown Brick, with a CIB sniper in his car. I reckon I'll have him hit the strip joint, whilst everyone's mob's are occupied

OOC: I didn't forget about you, and no one else did, but being a cop, there are many people you can interact with right now, except for me, unless you Rp Santos running into one of the mob people somewhere in the RP. Just for you (and everyone else), Ivanov isn't invincible and will most likely be arrested or killed toward the end of the Rp, but not just yet.

OOC: IN the morning, keep the meeting going. I'll have Santos get the info he needs for Mitchell whilst the meeting takes place

Sokoll shook his head inwardly at Ivanov. Fool. Times are changing. There is no honor in this, there never was. You and your cronies only fooled yourselves into thinking that, so you didn't feel so bad stealing and killing. All there ever has been is people who can adjust and adopt, and people who cannot. Those who make it in the end and those who don't. I will make it in the end.

Mickey stood up suddenly, then ran to Arthas. He had made a promise to protect Arthas, and things here were getting a bit ugly...

Ivanov was right, things were changing. Mickey had come to the conclusin that all of this out of control in the Port Smolensk underworld was due to one thing: Ivanov's incompetance. His gang could no longer hold on to Port Smolensk the way it used to, it was time for new leadership.

He did not vocalize these thoughts, he merely watched and waited, waiting for someone to make a move, or Arthas to give him an order.

****The commissioner's office****

"Let me tell you sir, we aren't just ragtag loons with rifles. We've ended civil war, quelled rebellions, overthrown corrupt governments. The only reason we are investigated is because of some peaceniks in the UN. We realize there is a problem and we're the people to fix it, now, could you please meet with us, sir. Even to just pop your head in the door and say no."

****The meeting****

Arthas led Mickey back to his spot and then himself sat down amongst his men for a moment, silent. After a moment, Alex gave him a nod and Arthas stood up again and said in a calm voice. "No offense to you, Mr. Ivanov, but I take offense to what you just said. My group owns one block of territory, five by the end of tomorrow. Now, we made sure of this, all our territory was neutral before we came in. Our business is still legit. Hotel, cars, warehousing, not the drugs and prostitution you mentioned, the things that are ruining this town.

The police are tightening their so-called control over this city, federal orders. Now, if this doesn't work, they may even go to the extreme and send in the whole army. Now, I say we need to stop beating each other's heads in and start working together here, before something like that does happen. Yes, I do agree that some of the groups in this city do need to be gotten rid of, but I think we should be careful of who we banish here.

As for dealing with this growing threat, I think we should form a... coalition of some sorts. That way we could coordinate against the feds, I bet if we combined all our bribed officials, we'd have most of the city together. We could also unite against these dishonorable gangs you mentioned, sir, set some standards of the business, keep little kids off crack, all the things you said."

Arthas was now the only one standing, in addition to Ivanov, in the room, all the other people looked on. It looked alot like a Roman Senate meeting, and many of the people along the walls were looking at Arthas like this was Julius Caesar's last attendance.

Santos looked at the strip joint. The mob meeting gave him his perfect oppurtunity to radi the place and find what he was looking for. His silenced 9mm Glock P7 sat in it's holster, a few magazines in small pouches on his belt. He felt comfortable in his Sneaking Suit. Turning to Alexa, he said,"We'll go round the back, then you can choose the rifle, I've got a few"

****The commissioner's office****

"Let me tell you sir, we aren't just ragtag loons with rifles. We've ended civil war, quelled rebellions, overthrown corrupt governments. The only reason we are investigated is because of some peaceniks in the UN. We realize there is a problem and we're the people to fix it, now, could you please meet with us, sir. Even to just pop your head in the door and say no."

****The meeting****

Arthas led Mickey back to his spot and then himself sat down amongst his men for a moment, silent. After a moment, Alex gave him a nod and Arthas stood up again and said in a calm voice. "No offense to you, Mr. Ivanov, but I take offense to what you just said. My group owns one block of territory, five by the end of tomorrow. Now, we made sure of this, all our territory was neutral before we came in. Our business is still legit. Hotel, cars, warehousing, not the drugs and prostitution you mentioned, the things that are ruining this town.

The police are tightening their so-called control over this city, federal orders. Now, if this doesn't work, they may even go to the extreme and send in the whole army. Now, I say we need to stop beating each other's heads in and start working together here, before something like that does happen. Yes, I do agree that some of the groups in this city do need to be gotten rid of, but I think we should be careful of who we banish here.

As for dealing with this growing threat, I think we should form a... coalition of some sorts. That way we could coordinate against the feds, I bet if we combined all our bribed officials, we'd have most of the city together. We could also unite against these dishonorable gangs you mentioned, sir, set some standards of the business, keep little kids off crack, all the things you said."

Arthas was now the only one standing, in addition to Ivanov, in the room, all the other people looked on. It looked alot like a Roman Senate meeting, and many of the people along the walls were looking at Arthas like this was Julius Caesar's last attendance.

*Everyone spontaneously dresses into togas, and stabs Arthas with knives that magically appeared in their hands* (Just kidding)

"If we coordinate, then it's just an easier blob for the government to bust. They'll send in the police troopers and kick all of our guys, and ourselves, out of the business." Kondrashov protested.

"And even if we did accomplish our goals, we can't all fit." Evans butted in. "And by the way, Arthas, what is it that you really do then? It seems
if you have all legit businesses, what are you doing here at all? You aren't even a mob, you're a patty-cake nobody. You don't even belong it seems."

Santos looked at the strip joint. The mob meeting gave him his perfect oppurtunity to radi the place and find what he was looking for. His silenced 9mm Glock P7 sat in it's holster, a few magazines in small pouches on his belt. He felt comfortable in his Sneaking Suit. Turning to Alexa, he said,"We'll go round the back, then you can choose the rifle, I've got a few"

Finding the rifles, Alexa decided on the L96.

"I've always felt semi-autos take the challenge out of things," she said.

She quickly climbed a series of fire stairs to the top of a neighboring building and got in a good position. Unfortunately she realized her problem too late. Their were no windows on the bottom floor and on the one above the windows were tinted.

"Sorry, Santos. No sniping today." she said through her head piece. She abandoned the rifle and ran down the fire escape stairs, with her pistol unholstered.

All of a sudden she stopped. She had an idea! She holstered her gun and hid it underneath her coat, hid the headpiece on the fire escape, and headed to a liquor store conviently across the street.

"I feel they add to the challenge, a bolt action is always more accurate because of the slow rate of fire"

Santos crept through the gloom, using the cover avaliable to him to his advantage. When Alexa called him, he froze. "Dammit! Isn't there anyway? Hello... hello?" Fuck it! he thought, pulling the P7 from it's holster on his thigh, and holding it steady in one hand. Up ahead was an enmey sentry, overloking the entrance at the back of the compound. Santos smiled, and crept silently towards the man, replacing the pistol with his fibre wire. Silent, undetectable, and deadly. He came up behind the man and brought the wire over his head in one swift motion, pulling it taunt on the neck. Tha man struggled, then went limp. Grabbing the body, Santos pulled it away from the edge. But there were still more, and he needed sniper fire

OOC: Very good Novgova, caught my sarcasm with some of your own, bravo.

IC:
Alex whispered over to the other people in his camp. "Oooh, patty-cake nobody, damn Arthas must be pissed."

Arthas was not visually pissed, yet. "I'm not saying that we all pick up our eggs and put them in one basket, but I am saying that the least we can do is turn some of our cannons away from each other and towards the feds for the time being. We aren't all going to wake up tomorrow morning in one big bed like happy siblings, well, maybe some of the more intoxicated ones here will, but that is beside the point, no, we won't wake up in the same bed like happy siblings, but we all have a common enemy that is growing stronger, and I think some people here need to realize this."

He paused for a moment, and looked off in to space for a split second, but, his head remaining stationary, his eyes spun over to Evans. He was visually pissed. "I've only been in town for a day or two, you just wait. As to what exactly I do here so far, I got my regualr business up, plus we are signing protection contracts with many people, and we... uhh... fund things. For which we get large shares of the money. That is legit, no matter what you are funding, so long as the contract is worded right. I could even be funding the guy who sells drugs to the 6-year-old, and the only punishment is my own conscience. Now I can assure you all, I am not responsible for that, or any of the biggies, I'm just pointing it out. And thanks to the wording skills of my right hand" He gestured over to Alex, who put his index finger in the air out of acknowledgement. "We are able to have money roll in legally, no matter how illegal it really is. That is how the legal system works, it isn't guilt by association anymore, it's guilt by lack of degrees of seperation."

Arthas now finally turned to Evans. "I have heard someone called a patty-cake nobody before, they owned a couple of fruit stands. They now have effective control of South-East US and down into Brazil, through Central America. So, please go ahead, call me names, and hurt my little feelings so I go running back home to Mommy and cry and then hang myself because of my bruised self-esteem." He ended, obviously, in a sarcastic tone.

OOC: Very good Novgova, caught my sarcasm with some of your own, bravo.

IC:
Alex whispered over to the other people in his camp. "Oooh, patty-cake nobody, damn Arthas must be pissed."

Arthas was not visually pissed, yet. "I'm not saying that we all pick up our eggs and put them in one basket, but I am saying that the least we can do is turn some of our cannons away from each other and towards the feds for the time being. We aren't all going to wake up tomorrow morning in one big bed like happy siblings, well, maybe some of the more intoxicated ones here will, but that is beside the point, no, we won't wake up in the same bed like happy siblings, but we all have a common enemy that is growing stronger, and I think some people here need to realize this."

He paused for a moment, and looked off in to space for a split second, but, his head remaining stationary, his eyes spun over to Evans. He was visually pissed. "I've only been in town for a day or two, you just wait. As to what exactly I do here so far, I got my regualr business up, plus we are signing protection contracts with many people, and we... uhh... fund things. For which we get large shares of the money. That is legit, no matter what you are funding, so long as the contract is worded right. I could even be funding the guy who sells drugs to the 6-year-old, and the only punishment is my own conscience. Now I can assure you all, I am not responsible for that, or any of the biggies, I'm just pointing it out. And thanks to the wording skills of my right hand" He gestured over to Alex, who put his index finger in the air out of acknowledgement. "We are able to have money roll in legally, no matter how illegal it really is. That is how the legal system works, it isn't guilt by association anymore, it's guilt by lack of degrees of seperation."

Arthas now finally turned to Evans. "I have heard someone called a patty-cake nobody before, they owned a couple of fruit stands. They now have effective control of South-East US and down into Brazil, through Central America. So, please go ahead, call me names, and hurt my little feelings so I go running back home to Mommy and cry and then hang myself because of my bruised self-esteem." He ended, obviously, in a sarcastic tone.

"Ooooh, touché! He got you there Evans," Mr. Cortlandt said.

Evans stood up out of his chair. "Arthas! Why you little scrawny-"

"Easy, easy, easy." Ivanov said calmly gesturing Evans to sit down. "No need to get excited."

"Yes, sorry, I usually don't get like this."

His wife gently pushed Evans back into the seat.

"Well, we gave you tykes a fair warning. I'm afraid if you don't take our words for you, then I'm afraid we can't help you. Now I have nothing more to say. Socialize, if you will, enjoy yourself if you must, and we will be serving Lobster, Salmon, Filet Mignon, and salad for you veggies and fat bastards, like you two Russians."

(In a matter of fact, one of the Russians were rather scrawny).

"Of course, I'm just kidding about that. Anyway, enjoy yourselves and have a great day. We will be serving drinks and beverages at the bar. Enjoy your afternoon."

"I feel they add to the challenge, a bolt action is always more accurate because of the slow rate of fire"

Santos crept through the gloom, using the cover avaliable to him to his advantage. When Alexa called him, he froze. "Dammit! Isn't there anyway? Hello... hello?" Fuck it! he thought, pulling the P7 from it's holster on his thigh, and holding it steady in one hand. Up ahead was an enmey sentry, overloking the entrance at the back of the compound. Santos smiled, and crept silently towards the man, replacing the pistol with his fibre wire. Silent, undetectable, and deadly. He came up behind the man and brought the wire over his head in one swift motion, pulling it taunt on the neck. Tha man struggled, then went limp. Grabbing the body, Santos pulled it away from the edge. But there were still more, and he needed sniper fire

Santos' hand piece came alive again.

"Anybody want a glass of wine?" Alexa asked.

"All I'm going to say is stand back from the building."

*glass braking*

Parts of the roof and side burst into flames.

"Gotta hand it to Molotov!" Alexa said proudly.

She went in through the front entrance yelling "Fire! There's a fire!"

Seconds later a whole swarm of people darted through the main door of the building.

"That just about solved all our problems. Minimal witnesses left, minimal risk of hurt civilians, minimal casualties. The building only has a few people left inside Santos. It'll be easier, but still you have to be careful."

****Meanwhile at the commissioner's office****

*Ring*

"I'll see about meeting you there. Give me a number and I'll call you."

*Ring*

The commissioner hurried the people out of the office and picked up the phone.

[Commissioner]"Hello?"

[Unknown]"The mayor's at the meeting right now."

[Commissioner]"Shit."

[Unknown]"How am I supposed to protect that S.O.B. now?"

[Commissioner]"I don't like him, but I still need to protect him. Last thing we need is the gov't snooping around."

[Unknown]"what shall I do?"

[Commissioner]"If the press catches the mayor at the meeting with the mobs, they'll have a field day!"

[Unknown]"Retrieve him at once?"

[Commissioner]"Retrieve him at once."

[Unknown]"That'll be all sir?"

[Commissioner]"Yes, that'll be all. Good day."

Santos' hand piece came alive again.

"Anybody want a glass of wine?" Alexa asked.

"All I'm going to say is stand back from the building."

*glass braking*

Parts of the roof and side burst into flames.

"Gotta hand it to Molotov!" Alexa said proudly.

She went in through the front entrance yelling "Fire! There's a fire!"

Seconds later a whole swarm of people darted through the main door of the building.

"That just about solved all our problems. Minimal witnesses left, minimal risk of hurt civilians, minimal casualties. The building only has a few people left inside Santos. It'll be easier, but still you have to be careful."

Thanks, intersting ploy. Get out of here! If thay figure out who threw that Molotov, you're toast. I'll see you later... get back to CIB, and tell them what happened here

***Commissioner's office***

"Excellent, here is my cellular phone number" He took out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote his number down. "Call me on your way over. My boss will be happy to hear this, might give him enough spirit to try standing up. Good day sir." He said with a tip of his hat and left.

***The meeting***

Arthas stood there motionless for a bit, and then remembered that he was trying to talk to Eva. "Forgive me ma'am for keeping you waiting." This time he just knelt and tipped his head down.

Alex got up and turned to the rest and gave them a cheesy smile like a little league coach. "Well folks, looks like Arthas needs our help getting some buddies." He walked off, after picking up a glass of wine, towards the Stallianos, humming an old choral piece.

Little Hank got up and went over towards the Evans camp "Wish me luck". Sal went for the Kondrashovs. Pyotr for the Russians.

Susie turned to Mickey "Well, I'm not going to see these guys over here." She gestured towards the French burglars next to her and whispered "They were giving me creepy looks. Let's go visit Mr. Ivanov." She said, grabbing Mickey's hand and pulling him in Ivanov's direction. "Oh and this time, don't be rude" She said with a giggle "Or Mr. Scipius might not want me to go out with you."

***Commissioner's office***

"Excellent, here is my cellular phone number" He took out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote his number down. "Call me on your way over. My boss will be happy to hear this, might give him enough spirit to try standing up. Good day sir." He said with a tip of his hat and left.

***The meeting***

Arthas stood there motionless for a bit, and then remembered that he was trying to talk to Eva. "Forgive me ma'am for keeping you waiting." This time he just knelt and tipped his head down.

Alex got up and turned to the rest and gave them a cheesy smile like a little league coach. "Well folks, looks like Arthas needs our help getting some buddies." He walked off, after picking up a glass of wine, towards the Stallianos, humming an old choral piece.

Little Hank got up and went over towards the Evans camp "Wish me luck". Sal went for the Kondrashovs. Pyotr for the Russians.

Susie turned to Mickey "Well, I'm not going to see these guys over here." She gestured towards the French burglars next to her and whispered "They were giving me creepy looks. Let's go visit Mr. Ivanov." She said, grabbing Mickey's hand and pulling him in Ivanov's direction. "Oh and this time, don't be rude" She said with a giggle "Or Mr. Scipius might not want me to go out with you."

Eva palmed a note into Scipius's hand.

"Call me. We need to discuss things," she whispered barely above nothing. "The room is bugged, can't talk now."

She got out of her chair and walked over to the forgotten Eastern Bloc Mob.

Just as inconspicuous as Eva had passed the note to Arthas, he stashed it away in his inside pocket of his coat. He was one of the few people there not in a suit. He went back over to the bar and picked himself the finest wine there before heading back to his spot on the bench and relaxed alone, his Kubrick glare back on.

"Joesph Stalliano!! Alexandre Rossi, damn honored to meet ya" Alex said enthusiastically with his friendly, charming smile and his non-wine-holding hand out to shake.

"Hello, Mr. Daniel Evans sir. I am Henry Jameson." Little Hank said slowly, real nervous and unsure, something odd because he probably hadd everyone there beat on size.

"Good afternoon. I'm Salazar Fernando Hidrogo Cortez. I'm from the Scipius camp." Sal From The Docks said in his proud, old, latino-accented voice to Boris Kondrashov.

Pyotr, being Russian himself, went and hung out with the others, trying to find some leadership there. However, many of them were so drunk, they thought he was one of them.

Mickey walked up to Ivanov with Susie.

"Sorry for my impolite statements earlier..."

OOC: Uh oh, is this thread dead? Well, i aint gonna let you go! *Starts preforming CPR *

OOC: Uh oh, is this thread dead? Well, i aint gonna let you go! *Starts preforming CPR *

OOC: Comes in with IV tree. "Ready." But really, I've been checking every few hours, even at school. Still, our only choice is to be patient.

Its not dead (at least for me) but i'll be busy today and tommorrow.

OOC: -Still is checking almost hourly-

OOC: Well, y'all could have done stuff without me, since the mob characters (except Ivanov) are "neutral" and not mine myself and are capable of being Rped by everyone.

Still, I'm surprised you sent your people out to meet the old mobs because the old mobs don't want anything to do with you. You have to prove yourself now through deeds. Otherwise, they aren't going to care about you. You aren't even a true mob, since everything you seem to do is "legit" and/or minor crime. Heck, these mobs are going to be doing a lot of bad things that are a lot worse than petty crimes. After all, they have the gov't breathing down their throats, and the mobs are looking to scare the police and local gov't out of commission before the national gov't steps in and tightens the noose on crime. Resources, ie sales and bribed officials are divided amongst the mafias, as you mentioned, and people like the mayor, (that is being rped by Napoleon) are conflicting with their former employers. Most likely, most aren't looking for a friendly chat and are planning to get rid of you [hint, hint].

OOC: Ah, well, I expected that. I think. Anywho, yeah, more of a test the water, get a handshake. I knew someone was going to make a move against me -Already planned for a nasty surprise when le troupe gets back to headquarters-

OOC: Ah, well, I expected that. I think. Anywho, yeah, more of a test the water, get a handshake. I knew someone was going to make a move against me -Already planned for a nasty surprise when le troupe gets back to headquarters-

OOC: Well FYI, Eva seems to be alright with you. The Russian mob is newer to Novgova, and in the same boat as you, although, they are less morally and ethically sound than most of the mobs in Port Smolensk.

As soon as you leave the restaurant, Eva will call you, because the Hotel is bugged of course, in case there is any plan against Ivanov because he wants to listen in.

Santos crept through the halls of the now burning strip joint, desperatley searching for the information he needed. Suddenly, he found it. An office, well furnished, with a state of the art PC atop it. He smiled, and tapped the keyboard.

PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD

He chuckled to himself. A ten digit code, with a 10 digit keyboard. 1,000,000,00,000 combinations. Nothing to his technology. Drawing a small chip from his belt, he inserted it into the USB drive. The computer chattered and whirred, as it recognized the new hardware. Suddenly, he was in. Swiftly scanning the archives, he downloaded everything he could fit, and then melted away into the flames

"Alexa? It's me. Mission Accomplished, I say again, we are clear."

One by one, all of Arthas' would be embassadors were given the cold shoulder and came back to Arthas. Susie, while walking back over with Mickey, turned to him and whispered "I'll tell Mr. Scipius how good you were today" in a mocking tone.
Everyone sat down again on the cusy bench while Arthas sat silently, sipping at his wine. He finished and threw the glass in the air, at this he stood up along with everyone. He caught the glass and set it down behind him. "Well, thank you ladies and gentlemen for inviting me here today, it has been an honor to be in your prescence. I hope many of you think about what I said and I look forward to working with some, if not all of you here. Good day and good luck." He said with a nod and everyone turned and filed out to the vans, got in, rolled back to the restaurant, got under the Umbrella, and began to walk home.
The clouds had gathered and it started to rain lightly. Alex turned to Mickey and said "This is the other reason why we take the Umbrella, to use it as an Umbrella."

OOC/ I'm sorry for not being around lately.

IC/
Sokoll stood up from his seat.

"Pardon me, Mstislav."
***
Sokoll threw away the paper towel and walked out of the rest room. At the end of the hall, a waiter stood with a man, who was motioning to Sokoll. The mayor walked towards them.

"Excuse me, Mr. Dukov." The waiter wrung his hands, looking back and forth from his shoes to Sokoll's chin. "This gentleman was looking for you."

"Is this not a private section of the restaurant?" Went Sokoll slowly, "Or am I mistaken?"

"Yes, sir, I'm very sorry, but this gentleman has police identification...Not that you are in any legal trouble, but he..."

The plain-clothes officer nodded and said curtly, "Thank you very much, that'll be all." The server scurried away.

"Pray, tell, why you are bothering me during my lunch." Sokoll realized this man must have known his identity-As anyone standing within two feet of me would. "I thought, perhaps, my pseudonym might have lent me some privacy..."

OOC:WHA? IT'S STILL ALIVE *preforms a somewhat disturbing jig*

IC: Mickey gave a little laugh at the joke. Things had escalated in the last few hours. He didnt like Ivanov very much...but he got the impression that not many did.

Santos crept through the halls of the now burning strip joint, desperatley searching for the information he needed. Suddenly, he found it. An office, well furnished, with a state of the art PC atop it. He smiled, and tapped the keyboard.

PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD

He chuckled to himself. A ten digit code, with a 10 digit keyboard. 1,000,000,00,000 combinations. Nothing to his technology. Drawing a small chip from his belt, he inserted it into the USB drive. The computer chattered and whirred, as it recognized the new hardware. Suddenly, he was in. Swiftly scanning the archives, he downloaded everything he could fit, and then melted away into the flames

"Alexa? It's me. Mission Accomplished, I say again, we are clear."

OOC: Wow, the WHOLE place burt down from a small fire?

IC: "Be careful getting out. I'm pretty sure some guards are still inside the building to catch people just like you. You also have to get out of there, though, before the fire department can get inside.

And well they're outside already. If the firemen get you, they'll bring you to the first aid outside where most likely police will question you about what happened. The only problem about that is you can't be here. You're non-exisistant. The only way out is from the rooftop to the next rooftops. they have the building sealed."

"Easily done," said Santos, clambering up through a skylight and running along the roof, his pistol in hand. He didn't want to shoot anyone, but he would if he had to...

About 10 minutes later, he dropped down behind Alexa,"knock knock"

Alexa turned around. "Who's there?"

"Actually I know who's there, I just thought I'd kid around. We need to find a computer."

One by one, all of Arthas' would be embassadors were given the cold shoulder and came back to Arthas. Susie, while walking back over with Mickey, turned to him and whispered "I'll tell Mr. Scipius how good you were today" in a mocking tone.
Everyone sat down again on the cusy bench while Arthas sat silently, sipping at his wine. He finished and threw the glass in the air, at this he stood up along with everyone. He caught the glass and set it down behind him. "Well, thank you ladies and gentlemen for inviting me here today, it has been an honor to be in your prescence. I hope many of you think about what I said and I look forward to working with some, if not all of you here. Good day and good luck." He said with a nod and everyone turned and filed out to the vans, got in, rolled back to the restaurant, got under the Umbrella, and began to walk home.
The clouds had gathered and it started to rain lightly. Alex turned to Mickey and said "This is the other reason why we take the Umbrella, to use it as an Umbrella."

Eva called Arthas's cell phone, just like she said she would.

"Listen to me carefully. From certain snitches, I have found out that Ivanov is doing a follow-up dinner with the other old-mob heads tomorrow night on the large 200 foot The Pearl of the Sea. You are invited and expected to show up. However, Ivanov has plans to have you killed on the boat during the dinner as appeasement for the other heads. Be careful. I don't know what you can do because Ivanov's men will check you and everyone in your party for weapons. As a recommendation, bring as little people as possible to avoid minimal risk of injury to anyone else traveling with you. Only bring essential personnel. Ivanov will have men stationed around the marina so you can't try anything stupid. All I can say is, be on guard."

OOC/ I'm sorry for not being around lately.

IC/
Sokoll stood up from his seat.

"Pardon me, Mstislav."
***
Sokoll threw away the paper towel and walked out of the rest room. At the end of the hall, a waiter stood with a man, who was motioning to Sokoll. The mayor walked towards them.

"Excuse me, Mr. Dukov." The waiter wrung his hands, looking back and forth from his shoes to Sokoll's chin. "This gentleman was looking for you."

"Is this not a private section of the restaurant?" Went Sokoll slowly, "Or am I mistaken?"

"Yes, sir, I'm very sorry, but this gentleman has police identification...Not that you are in any legal trouble, but he..."

The plain-clothes officer nodded and said curtly, "Thank you very much, that'll be all." The server scurried away.

"Pray, tell, why you are bothering me during my lunch." Sokoll realized this man must have known his identity-As anyone standing within two feet of me would. "I thought, perhaps, my pseudonym might have lent me some privacy..."

"The commissioner sent me. He doesn't want you hanging around too long in case some media freaks find out your with the rest of the mob big shots in town."

"Wow! Another exciting night in Port Smolensk. We're here at the Stormy Night Bar here in Anatoli Gardens. We're ready to party all night long!!!"

Mitchell looked at the alarm radio that was blaring into his ear.

6:00 P.M.

Time to start his shift. His days off were over and it was time for him to start his new week.

Eva called Arthas's cell phone, just like she said she would.

"Listen to me carefully. From certain snitches, I have found out that Ivanov is doing a follow-up dinner with the other old-mob heads tomorrow night on the large 200 foot The Pearl of the Sea. You are invited and expected to show up. However, Ivanov has plans to have you killed on the boat during the dinner as appeasement for the other heads. Be careful. I don't know what you can do because Ivanov's men will check you and everyone in your party for weapons. As a recommendation, bring as little people as possible to avoid minimal risk of injury to anyone else traveling with you. Only bring essential personnel. Ivanov will have men stationed around the marina so you can't try anything stupid. All I can say is, be on guard."

Arthas started chuckling "Heh, Ivanov isn't a really creative man is he? Alright, I'll come, don't want to offend anyone." Sarcastic tone. He paused for a moment "No offense at all to you ma'am, but you are one of the heads of the big families too, why are you helping me?"

Arthas started chuckling "Heh, Ivanov isn't a really creative man is he? Alright, I'll come, don't want to offend anyone." Sarcastic tone. He paused for a moment "No offense at all to you ma'am, but you are one of the heads of the big families too, why are you helping me?"

"Well to be perfectly honest, I'm not a saint. There's something in it for me, too, primarily the extinction of my main competition," Eva said.

"Well to be perfectly honest, I'm not a saint. There's something in it for me, too, primarily the extinction of my main competition," Eva said.
"Heh, so I am going to be your stray dog who you train into an attack dog, eh? Well, I'm pretty confident that if we do get an alliance going, we could be able to take down one family, and once on does fall, the rest will be lining up at our doorsteps, or fall with them. So, that would leave us at an interesting situation, we'd be the only two left, then what? I'd become your main competition, then it'd be a complete wa---" The next voice on the phone was Alex's "I'm sorry about that, the last time Arthas started talking all strategy with someone, he never had a second date with her. I think it is his twisted form of hitting on someonOOOOOF!" It was obvious he was punched "So, yeah, don't take offense, he's a happy little lapdog."

"No offense taken. Just be aware; tommorrow at the East End Marina 11PM. Be careful. Remember, you may need to kill him before he can kill you. That's all I could say. Good luck."

"No offense taken. Just be aware; tommorrow at the East End Marina 11PM. Be careful. Remember, you may need to kill him before he can kill you. That's all I could say. Good luck."

Next voice was Arthas. "Hmm.. killing someone after I get checked for weapons." He sighed. "Just like the old days. Well, I don't know how I can thank you, but, I believe I'll find a way. I trust you'll be in attendence tomorrow night. You have a good day ma'am." He let her say her last words and then closed the phone, tucking it away. "Sal, make sure your speedboat still works, Pyotr, Little Hank, you two man the forts, Mickey, I liked the way you handled yourself back there, you go do something fun, take Suzie with you, she did good too, and lord knows she doesn't have a social life because of her job."

He and Alex whispered a few things to each other. They walked back into the entrance to the hotel, and Alex turned and kicked Arthas square in the bottom of the kneecap, not necessarily knocking him out of commission, but giving him a realistic limp for a day or two.

OOC: Should we just advance to tomorrow night? Or do you have something planned for between then?

Alexa turned around. "Who's there?"

"Actually I know who's there, I just thought I'd kid around. We need to find a computer."

"We also need to tell Mitchell. My contract is complete, I need my payment and another job. Computers are easy, come with me," said Santos, leaading her to the car, and driving them back to the flat,"We'll use this," he said, gesturing at the laptop and inserting the flashdrive into the port. He tapped a few keys, downloading information.

"Calender, diary of activities, including some things that have yet to happen, personal letters... this is a gold mine!"

He looked at Alexa,"Can you get the CIB on the phone?"

"We also need to tell Mitchell. My contract is complete, I need my payment and another job. Computers are easy, come with me," said Santos, leaading her to the car, and driving them back to the flat,"We'll use this," he said, gesturing at the laptop and inserting the flashdrive into the port. He tapped a few keys, downloading information.

"Calender, diary of activities, including some things that have yet to happen, personal letters... this is a gold mine!"

He looked at Alexa,"Can you get the CIB on the phone?"

"Something's wrong," Alexa said. "For someone who used to be in intelligence, this is too easy. This is also too sloppy. Ivanov would never leave such important things so easily accessable!"

Alexa continued to scan through the files.

"But they seem legitimate so maybe he is sloppy-" she stopped and glanced at something for a second.

In the tiniest print at the bottom of every page of personal files, there was a subtle line. One would make the assumption that it was fine print. However, it is rather odd that a criminal mastermind would have fine print; what he wrote is neither copyrighted or a legal document.

"Let me just bring this up and..."

a few seconds later...

"Humph." she said disappointedly. "Something is definately wrong." She swivled around the laptop so that Santos could see.

The fine print it turned out was just two words. Two words with an unmistakeable meaning:

Ha Ha!




They were set up!

Next voice was Arthas. "Hmm.. killing someone after I get checked for weapons." He sighed. "Just like the old days. Well, I don't know how I can thank you, but, I believe I'll find a way. I trust you'll be in attendence tomorrow night. You have a good day ma'am." He let her say her last words and then closed the phone, tucking it away. "Sal, make sure your speedboat still works, Pyotr, Little Hank, you two man the forts, Mickey, I liked the way you handled yourself back there, you go do something fun, take Suzie with you, she did good too, and lord knows she doesn't have a social life because of her job."

He and Alex whispered a few things to each other. They walked back into the entrance to the hotel, and Alex turned and kicked Arthas square in the bottom of the kneecap, not necessarily knocking him out of commission, but giving him a realistic limp for a day or two.

OOC: Should we just advance to tomorrow night? Or do you have something planned for between then?

OOC: We could, I have nothing further to do. In matter of fact the post about Mitchell (the CIB agent) is on the next day. So theoretically, i'm already on the next day.

OOC: Alright. Ahehehem. -Deep, calm voice- The next day.

"Ok, I know it's late and you all want to get to work, a quick meeting though." Alex said, symbolically sitting at Arthas's right hand. After the expected moan-and-groan, Arthas cleared his throat and began "Alright, we now own the block we all sit in right now, and the 4 adjacent ones too, solid ownership. Our realm of influence and services expands beyond that another block or two, which we are already in negotiations to buy that too.

The one problem with our expansion though, is that now our territory, our realm of influence, is now brushing up on a few other families'. We now share borders with the Kokoskas, the Kondrashovs, and Ivanov himself. Now, I won't no trouble, no intrusions, no interruptions, NOTHING with these 3 groups. Especially the Kokoskas, if it wasn't for Ms. Eva, well, I probably wouldn't be coming back here alive.

Ok, you all know what you are supposed to do tonight, no monkey business, I think there will be enough problems at this dinner. Speaking of that, if I do die tonight, Alex is next in sucession, but if I die, he probably will too. So, in that case, Mickey, I want you to call up your family, see if you can't keep this place open under you with their backing. If that won't work, I want it all turned over to the Kokoskas, with this note." He reached into his coat pocket and tossed a wax sealed envelope onto the table. "No rebelling, no uncomplying, all of you will be hers. Trust me, she will most likely be a better leader than I am. That is all. Clever Dan, I need you to stay for a moment, the rest of you, good night. I hope I'll see you all in the morning." His eyes lowered for a moment and he shook his head.

Once all had filed out, Arthas turned to Danny Smithson, known as Clever Dan. "How'd things go with the commissioner" "Ah, good enough, the plan is in motion, we just have to hope he gives us a call." "Alright, maybe check in with him again, remind him." "Yessir" "That is all"

Arthas turned to Alex, picked up his cane he had to balance out the limp, and the two hugged like brothers going off to war. Alex "Well, let's hope this isn't our last hoorah." They walked out to Alex's restored Trans Am and hopped in, driving off to the docks.

The Pearl of the Sea was an older boat compared to the others in the marina. It had once served as a government yacht in the 1930s to early 1960s. A wonder it was still afloat. It was decrepid-looking compared to the other marina boats.

As Ivanov paced the main dining room, he could not help but think about the history of the boat. Where was Arthas?

"Something's wrong," Alexa said. "For someone who used to be in intelligence, this is too easy. This is also too sloppy. Ivanov would never leave such important things so easily accessable!"

Alexa continued to scan through the files.

"But they seem legitimate so maybe he is sloppy-" she stopped and glanced at something for a second.

In the tiniest print at the bottom of every page of personal files, there was a subtle line. One would make the assumption that it was fine print. However, it is rather odd that a criminal mastermind would have fine print; what he wrote is neither copyrighted or a legal document.

"Let me just bring this up and..."

a few seconds later...

"Humph." she said disappointedly. "Something is definately wrong." She swivled around the laptop so that Santos could see.

The fine print it turned out was just two words. Two words with an unmistakeable meaning:

Ha Ha!




They were set up!

"God damn it!" cried Santos, slamming his hand onto the desk,"Sneaky little shit! He knew we were coming! How?"

OOC: Little conspiracy going on, maybe!

Alex's car pulled up to the docks, normally such a nice car would look odd there, but it almost stood out as out of place amongst the luxury cars of the mafia heads. The two of them got out, Alex coming around to help his boss and closest friend get situated with his walking stick. The two of them boarded the ship.

"God damn it!" cried Santos, slamming his hand onto the desk,"Sneaky little shit! He knew we were coming! How?"

OOC: Little conspiracy going on, maybe!

"Wait a second. There might be something here."

Alexa went through several hidden files.

"There. The real plans, I'm guessing, or at least some of them."

"Only problem is, it's in code, and by the jlooks of it, an advanced code, too. I'm no cryptologist, but this seems to have no pattern. I'm afraid that if I'm correct, then we'll need to call a cryptologist."

Alexa looked over.

"Got a phone I could use?"

Here, use this*hands her a cell phone* Mind if I take a look?

Alex's car pulled up to the docks, normally such a nice car would look odd there, but it almost stood out as out of place amongst the luxury cars of the mafia heads. The two of them got out, Alex coming around to help his boss and closest friend get situated with his walking stick. The two of them boarded the ship.

The Pearl of the Sea chugged away from port as best as possible. It was a chilly night and although you could stand outside, one would not normally choose to unless necessary. Inside, all toasty and warm, Evans and Ivanov were chatting very casually amongst themselves. Wine was served to everyone, and in the corner a pianist played melodic tunes.

It was strange that on such a large ship, no one else was aboard. The ballroom adjoining the restaurant was completely dark, as were most of the rooms. However, the calm and quiet almost put a spell on everyone, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. At around midnight, the ship passed the famous prison ship S 2107, which grounded on rocks during a heavy storm in 1939. The ship had been a staple of Port Smolensk's meager tourist industry until 1999, when the ship was deemed structurally unsafe. Still, it remained on the rocks, its barbed wire and metal, grated fences made an ominously evil sight against the light from the lighthouse.

"Scary, isn't it? My dad was alive when it happened. He told me it was all over the papers. He said 27 prisoners jumped off the ship that night. 25 of them drowned, two were never seen again. Makes you wonder whatever happened to those two, doesn't it?" Ivanov asked.

Before an answer could be given, Ivanov nudged someone out of their seat.

"I'd like you to meet somebody, someone of my own flesh and blood, my youngest son Vincent." Ivanov showed Arthas and Alex. "He's much more pleasant than I am."

"Got that straight," Evans said while gulping down his gin, his perferred drink.

Here, use this*hands her a cell phone* Mind if I take a look?

"At what? The code? I'm afraid that if I'm right, and this doesn't have a pattern, than this will be impossible to solve with that chip of yours, never mind yourself." Alexa said.

Alexa used the phone.

"Agent Alexa. ...Yeah. ...I'm doing fine. ...I need your help. ...A code. ...I can describe it. ...Series of five digits ...All of them are five digits ...Yeah ...Hmmmmm ...You sure? ...I don't know what to do now. Alright. Thanks anyway."

Alexa gave the phone back.

"Crypto gave us disappointing information. It is indeed patternless. It's a type of code originally desinged by the soviets. Impossible to solve, even for a supercomputer, because each number could literally be anyword from "a" to "antidisestablishmenttarianism" to "Zebra". Worse, each number is then added to a different, random 5-digit number that only the sender and reciever know, by agreement. Without knowing what each number stands for, and what number they were jumbled with, this information is useless. But the good side is this: there must be a paper trail. The codes and the dictionary listing the words and their designated number, must exist somewhere so that either a sender or reciver can understand it. Now all we need to know is where to start."

Carlos stared briefly,"That is some wierd code. I'm sure S.I.O.N could crack it, but not me"

He reeled at Alexa's words,"Great. So now all we have to do is begin a unt for a paper trail that may not even exist! Perfect. And we don't have a clue how to start"

Carlos stared briefly,"That is some wierd code. I'm sure S.I.O.N could crack it, but not me"

OOC: I wrote a little more in the above post to clarify what i meant, so my next response to this thread is in the above post, which is the post you just responded to. Confused?

OOC: I edited my post, just so you know

Alex was the first to offer his hand "Very nice to meet you Vincent, I'm Alexandre Rossi." Arthas was a bit suspicious, his eyes darting around. "I'm Arthas Scipius" He said, painfully getting down and bowing. "So, Mr. Ivanov, where are all the guests? I would've thought everyone from yesterday's meeting would be here."

Alex was the first to offer his hand "Very nice to meet you Vincent, I'm Alexandre Rossi." Arthas was a bit suspicious, his eyes darting around. "I'm Arthas Scipius" He said, painfully getting down and bowing. "So, Mr. Ivanov, where are all the guests? I would've thought everyone from yesterday's meeting would be here."

"I don't know, you tell me. This is your party, isn't it? At least you could have invited Mr. Kondrashov, I don't understand why you invited just me and Evans."

"Actually, I was told this was your party," Evans said. "I just don't give a damn about everyone else so I never bothered to ask."

"Well, no, it's y..." Alex began to speak but was interrupted by Arthas "Mr. Ivanov, just how did you find out about this party?" He said, his eyes darting around hurridly now.

"Well, no, it's y..." Alex began to speak but was interrupted by Arthas "Mr. Ivanov, just how did you find out about this party?" He said, his eyes darting around hurridly now.

"Ermm... Well from what I understood, you called us here." Ivanov said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Evans said. "You invited us here-"

Evans paused and looked at Ivanov.

"Something's terribly wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong." Ivanov said now getting out of his seat.

It started to sink in with Alex too. Arthas said, grabbing the pianist by the collar and dragging him outside to the front of the ship "Mr. Ivanov, we have to get off here, I got a man waiting just within sight of here with a speedboat." He pointed to Alex, who stepped out front and whistled, a speedboat engine firing up and advancing for the ship. Arthas pulled hard on the handle of his walking stick, I knife coming out, he held it to the pianist's neck "What do you know about this?" Alex said to Ivanov and Evans "Eva Kokosko told us to come here, she said you were planning our assassination"

OOC: I edited my post, just so you know

OOC: Alright, I read your above post. but right now I'm asking you where to start rather than the other way around.

"At what? The code? I'm afraid that if I'm right, and this doesn't have a pattern, than this will be impossible to solve with that chip of yours, never mind yourself." Alexa said.

Alexa used the phone.

"Agent Alexa. ...Yeah. ...I'm doing fine. ...I need your help. ...A code. ...I can describe it. ...Series of five digits ...All of them are five digits ...Yeah ...Hmmmmm ...You sure? ...I don't know what to do now. Alright. Thanks anyway."

Alexa gave the phone back.

"Crypto gave us disappointing information. It is indeed patternless. It's a type of code originally desinged by the soviets. Impossible to solve, even for a supercomputer, because each number could literally be anyword from "a" to "antidisestablishmenttarianism" to "Zebra". Worse, each number is then added to a different, random 5-digit number that only the sender and reciever know, by agreement. Without knowing what each number stands for, and what number they were jumbled with, this information is useless. But the good side is this: there must be a paper trail. The codes and the dictionary listing the words and their designated number, must exist somewhere so that either a sender or reciver can understand it. Now all we need to know is where to start."

"Why not start back at that strip joint. The fire crews managed to put the blze out, and you never know

It started to sink in with Alex too. Arthas said, grabbing the pianist by the collar and dragging him outside to the front of the ship "Mr. Ivanov, we have to get off here, I got a man waiting just within sight of here with a speedboat." He pointed to Alex, who stepped out front and whistled, a speedboat engine firing up and advancing for the ship. Arthas pulled hard on the handle of his walking stick, I knife coming out, he held it to the pianist's neck "What do you know about this?" Alex said to Ivanov and Evans "Eva Kokosko told us to come here, she said you were planning our assassination"

"Calm down. He was a present for me to you. He's one of my men." Ivanov interjected. "But I do want to know who's driving the ship."

"Not so fast!"

Ivanov turned around and there was Eva Kokosko, MP5 in hand. It seemed as if she materialized in thin air; for some reason no one noticed her sneak into the room.

"Surprised? Well you shouldn't be!" Kokosko said. "One major rule before we play: Nobody moves, nobody dies. Now Arthas I know you want to put down the knife. You may kill me, but not before I put 30 rounds into your pathetic body."

8 other men circled the surprised mob heads. Oh yeah and I forgot, I brought these men with me. Ivanov recognized one of the men as one of the representatives from the Estonian mob, the quiet mob that spoke to nobody.

Except Eva Konosko.

"It's always the quiet ones," Ivanov said to the Estonian.

"Yes, yes it is."

"Well I hate to break up this 'happy moment'" Eva said sarcastically, "but I have good news for you. You're all going to die!" She noted Arthas's face of anger, someone who was betrayed. "What's the matter Arthas? You're going to be a hero! The papers in the morning will ring with your heroism. After your businesses were blown up you went and seeked revenge against the evil Ivanov!!! You managed to kill him and his evil comrade Evans before Ivanov's boat sank and unfortunately killed you in the making. Of course the story is going to have to change. I'm disappointed in you Arthas. Such promise. Such promise. I would have expected you to kill Ivanov by now. oh well."

"You son of a bi-" Evans screamed.

"Son of a bitch, Evans?" Eva asked. "Son of a bitch? You are mistaken my friend. I am the bitch."

"Traitor!"

"Yes, Evans I'm a traitor to what? This goes for you too Arthas, you can't trust anyone in the business."

Eva coldly smiled. "You can't even trust me now."

1 bullet flew out of Eva's gun and into Vincent, striking him in the stomach.

"Remember my rule? Nobody moves, nobody dies? Well, I lied. Oh and by the way, look in the minicooler, Evans."

When Evans opened up the minicooler, Kondrashov's severed head was grizzly staring back at them.

"Yes, well he came a little too early and found out about my plan so i killed him. No big deal." Eva said.

By now there was a noticeable slant in the ship.

"Don't you get that 'sinking' feeling sometimes?" Eva coldly snapped.

"You'll never get away with this! I'll hunt you down if the police don't get you first!" Evans yelled.

"Who's going to arrest me? The commissioner?" Eva looked at her watch. 12:10. "In five minutes, he's going to be dead."

"Eva and her men started to back off. I have my boat to catch. As for your boat, let's just say they'll be awhile. After my men in other boats finally catch up to your boat, your men will be killed too. And by the way, escape is hopeless. Even if you do manage to make it out I'll have a boat circling around to shoot ya down. So go out like a man."

Eva left the doomed ship and those inside to their fates.

"We have to get out of here! My son..." Ivanov looked down at his son, wounded on the floor in pain, grasping his stomach."

Evans veinly tried to open or bust the doors down, but it was no use.

They were all doomed.

"Why not start back at that strip joint. The fire crews managed to put the blze out, and you never know

"Probably not, if not the fire, than Ivanov's cronies took the papers before the cops could investigate." Alexa we need someplace else.

OOC: Make up a place.

OOC: OK

IC: Santos stared at his map. It had all Ivanov's buildings on it, all the known ones at least. He crossed out the strip joint, then looked towards the docks,"What aobut here? Offices for legitimate buisnesses, where else to start?"

OOC: OK

IC: Santos stared at his map. It had all Ivanov's buildings on it, all the known ones at least. He crossed out the strip joint, then looked towards the docks,"What aobut here? Offices for legitimate buisnesses, where else to start?"

Alexa, though tired for going two days straight, felt compelled to go on. they had gone to far now. To turn back now would be an awful shame.

"Alright let's go." Alexa said cheerfully.

"So, Mr. Ivanov, what did your pianist have for us?" Alex said as Arthas went over to the fridge and looked behind it. "Why don't we just ram our way out?"

Alexa, though tired for going two days straight, felt compelled to go on. they had gone to far now. To turn back now would be an awful shame.

"Alright let's go." Alexa said cheerfully.

Santos looked at her quizcally,"You know you'll burn yourself out working as hard as that."

"So, Mr. Ivanov, what did your pianist have for us?" Alex said as Arthas went over to the fridge and looked behind it. "Why don't we just ram our way out?"

Mr. Ivanov was too busy with his wounded son to answer.

"They barricaded the doors apparently before they left, so the only way out is through a window. However the minute we go through the window the goons outside will shoot us dead. I think our only hope is that we wait until the last second to break through the window, because we can easily swim underwater to escape attention and they might either pull away before then or lose interest, making it easier to escape," Evans said.

"I just hope that your boat can evade the boats Eva sent after it and pick us up in time. In this weather, it won't take too long before we become hypothermic."

Santos looked at her quizcally,"You know you'll burn yourself out working as hard as that."

"And what about you? You've been up only a little less than I have."

Gene therapy. I can go longer and harder than any normal human

"That's interesting. I'm surprised your very open about it. Our government 'neither confirms nor denies' gene enhancement for its soldiers. No one is really sure if many of our troops have undergone gene therapy or are even the result of a Genome Project, although I'll tell you, I wasn't."

It's no secret in Snake Eaters. Most soliders have small gene therapy, but our special forces have more than most.They are amazing soliders without it, but the so-called 'solider genes' make them better

Arthas looked up from the refridgerator. "No, I wouldn't worry about Sal, he could probably sneak past a navy scouting ship while driving a neon pink barge and jamming music over loudspeakers."

"In broad daylight." Alex added, walking over to Vincent and Ivanov, tearing a few strips of fabric from the piano bench. "Sal was also a licensed medic in the army, he should be able to get Vincent here patched up nice."

Arthas was walking around, leaning around window frames and peaking out, looking pretty angry with himself.

12:15 A.M.: 11th Precinct, Metropolitan Police Station-

An old Toyota Camry pulled up in the police station visitor's parking lot. Four men, all wearing black bulletproof vests and black balaclavas, checked their Glocks and then carefully put them back in their holsters. A black van parked across the street from the police station, suddenly opened and four more men in black balaclavas and bulletproof vests, got out, these with AKMs. Finally, three men on the rooftop also with black balaclavas but no bulletproof vests opened up the roof access door.

“Alpha to Bravo radio check.”

“Bravo to Alpha, we read you.”

“Alpha to Charlie radio check.”

“We read you loud and clear.”

It was shift change in the Police Precinct. Most cops were preparing to leave, were already gone, on patrol, or arriving to work. The police station was barely manned. Only a few cops were on duty. The police commissioner had stayed late, as usual, to finish paperwork. The rest were either paper-pushers, wardens for the jail cells in the police station, or just people unlucky enough to have the shift.

Two normal appearing men, each with baggy shirts, walked in through the side entrance of the police building.

“Hello, sir, we need to speak to the commissioner for a second,” one of the men said to the desk officer.

“I’m afraid he’s busy right now, it’s kind of late, and I think he wants to get home. Instead, should I take a message?” the warden asked.

The man looked around to see if anyone else was around. He couldn’t see anything, but it was very quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. He felt slowly through his baggy clothing until he found his Glock.

“Yeah, give him this message!” he raised the gun and shot him.

The other man took out a two-way radio.

”…Papa Romeo to Alpha, come in?”

“…This is Alpha, come in.”

“…Clear to go.”

“…Acknowledge Papa Romeo. Alpha out.”

“Frank did your engine backfire again?” a voice said down a nearby hall.
“God damnit Frank!” another voice yelled.
“His piece of shit never works,” said the first voice.

The two plainclothes men listed carefully as two cops came down the hallway.

Alpha to all units. Move in.”

The three men on the rooftop burst through the rooftop access, shotguns and uzis in hand.

The eight balaclava and bulletproof vested men on the ground quickly moved in through the side entrance.

Two cops emerged from the hallway, the same two that were yelling.

“Hey Frank! Need some hel-” the cops stopped dead in their tracks on seeing the eight heavily armed men in the lobby.

“What the hell?”

One of the men pulled out his Glock and puts a few holes in him. The other cop began to run before he too, is shot down.

The eight armed men fan out on the ground floor while the two bagged-clothed men serve as lookouts.

As the men fanned through the building they could hear the confused voices of the cops

Mitchell was at his desk when he heard gunfire. He drew out his standard-issue CZ75 and looked around at the other CIB agents.

“To the basement!” he ordered. “Get your equipment quickly!”

As the CIB agents ran down to their equipment lockers, the gunfire grew louder. Mostly pistol fire, but once in a while, the full auto of an AK could be heard. Soon, any survivors that were left regrouped outside of the CIB room. Some tried desperately to use the phones to call for outside help, but as the lines were cut, no call could be made.

However, a brazen police officer had somehow snuck around the armed men and into the police dispatcher’s office and used the radio.

[Police officer]11th Precinct to all available units, urgent assistance is required! Shots fired in 11th Precinct, officers down. Many casualties. Males, number unknown, armed with AKs and pistols. It’s a massacre down here! We don’t know how long we could hold them off! I say again, urgent assistance is required! Send Armed Response Team Immediately!”

[Unknown noise]

[Police officer] “Oh Shi--”

*gunfire*

The radio fell suddenly silent.

Meanwhile, the CIB agents in the basement had gathered their equipment and rushed out. Using their expert training, they began to hunt down the suspects. However, the armed men were ready for them. In an instant a deluge of bullets sprayed the CIB agents, splattering the walls with crimson blood. Mitchell watched horrified as the bullets passed right through his agents’ bulletproof vests, before he too met the lethal rain of lead.

The bullets were armored piercing.

On the first floor things weren’t also going too well. The distraction had lured many cops away from the first floor and thus the three men encountered little resistance.

“Charlie to Alpha, we’re approaching the Commissioner’s office.”
“Proceed carefully.”

One of the men opened the door and…

…*Bang*

The guy fell over dead, a bullet in his head. The two remaining men swarmed the office, but could not find anybody.

*Bang*

*Bang*

Both shots missed. But they now knew where the firing was coming from; across the hallway in the opposite office. Sure enough, it was the commissioner.

“Come get me you bastards!” he yelled before a shotgun blast mutilated him into a bloody mess.

Eva Kokosko had made good on her promise. The commissioner was dead.

Arthas looked up from the refridgerator. "No, I wouldn't worry about Sal, he could probably sneak past a navy scouting ship while driving a neon pink barge and jamming music over loudspeakers."

"In broad daylight." Alex added, walking over to Vincent and Ivanov, tearing a few strips of fabric from the piano bench. "Sal was also a licensed medic in the army, he should be able to get Vincent here patched up nice."

Arthas was walking around, leaning around window frames and peaking out, looking pretty angry with himself.

Ivanov still paid no attention. He too, had medical training but he knew the wound was a mortal wound and that for the fifteen minutes his son had left on this earth, it would be a slow and agonizing death. As the stomach acid poured out of his stomach, it would burn in his chest cavities, leaving him in pain. Finally, Ivanov brought himself to rejoin the others and leave his son for now.

"Well we don't have long until the water completely envelops us," Ivanov explained as he sloshed about in the water. "It's already up to my knees."

Arthas continued walking around the room, peaking through the windows, cursing himself, not minding the water, Alex looked to Ivanov "Well, when should we pop out of the windows?"

Ivanov looked at him. "Anytime you want. But be aware that there's still a boat outside and we have no idea where your boat is yet."

OOC: Sorry i can't post too much, but as Spring break approaches, everyone feels at liberty to cram me with work to be due right before the start of vacation.

OOC: Ah yes, I'm having that happen too.

Arthas tucked the walking stick in his pocket and walked over to the biggest window. "At the last second, we all charge out and stagger, hopefully Sal will be there to pick us up. He's got netting on the side of the boat, for camoflague, but it ought to give us something to grab a hold of, if you don't mind being dragged through this cold water at 60 or 70 mph at least."

OOC: Ah yes, I'm having that happen too.

Arthas tucked the walking stick in his pocket and walked over to the biggest window. "At the last second, we all charge out and stagger, hopefully Sal will be there to pick us up. He's got netting on the side of the boat, for camoflague, but it ought to give us something to grab a hold of, if you don't mind being dragged through this cold water at 60 or 70 mph at least."

OOC: I'm really sorry for not posting lately, and worse, I just found out I'm going to be missing for a week.

IC: "I think the water's high enough don't you think?" Evans said.

The ship was slanted on a 45 degree angle and slipping into the water very quickly.

"Alright, let's bust this window shall we?"

Arthas nodded his head and took his walking stick, smashed out a window and brought the stick full circle to make sure it was clear of shards before jumping into the water, diving down low. Alex followed suit, breaking right.

A speedboat made an advance towards the boat. The driver could not be seen, save for a few knuckles on top of the steering wheel.

Arthas nodded his head and took his walking stick, smashed out a window and brought the stick full circle to make sure it was clear of shards before jumping into the water, diving down low. Alex followed suit, breaking right.

A speedboat made an advance towards the boat. The driver could not be seen, save for a few knuckles on top of the steering wheel.

OOC: If your still even bothering to check, I'll post at approx 5:00AM (for me), or about 7 hours from now.

(I had made a serious miscalculation: I had thought they had crammed all the work to be done before the break.

Instead, they crammed us with work before the break, during the break, and claiming that somehow we are behind because of "lost days" which doesn't make sense being that the days are factored into the schedule, the crammed even more work. So I'm really busy and hopefully I'll be less busy closer to summer.

In the meantime, Mt. Everest will have to settle being the 2nd biggest mountain, after a big humungous pile of work that I have been given by a few sadistic maniacs.)

((OOC: I check thrice a day))

OOC: I've been bogged down with my revision lately, so my posting is sporadic at best

OOC: Sorry once again, I told you i'd post in 7 hours, which didn't work because my mouse didn't work and my computer for some strange reason didn't "see" any other mice I plugged in.

"Is there anybody...

..Out there?"

Hello, hello, hello is there anybody in there? just knock if you can hear me

Is there anyone home?


(Seriously though I've been bogged down into an endless cycle of paperwork and i do not hope to be relieved until May (hopefully). However, don't take this as saying I'm abandoning this, but rather that I might not post as much as i have in February. I have more free time than two-three weeks ago but I still have tons of work (it's not a Mt. Everest, but it is a K-2)

I'm still here

Cool. I'll try to post later today, although no garentees.

Hello, hello, hello is there anybody in there? just knock if you can hear me

Is there anyone home?




((OOC: I check daily. And, it is 'nod', not 'knock'. Then you keep going "C'mon, c'mon, now... I hear you're feeling down. Well I can ease your pain, get you on your feet again." Love that song. Love that band.))

And then in a frail yet husky and deep voice, an old man who was wandering around on a nearby boat asks "Are you here for the shipment?"

Edit: He then realises he's in the wrong story, and the wrong forum all together, and wanders off.

((OOC: I check daily. And, it is 'nod', not 'knock'. Then you keep going "C'mon, c'mon, now... I hear you're feeling down. Well I can ease your pain, get you on your feet again." Love that song. Love that band.))

Wait, what did you say?

You are only coming through in waves. Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying. :)

Sorry, you're right it is nod, I've just been half asleep the whole week.

(I didn't known if any of you would get what I wrote. Apparently, you did.)

OOC: BTW, since I can't seem to promise another time when I can post an actual post since everytime I do, I seem to get nailed with a ton o' work, I'm just going to tell you all (Snake Eaters and Arthaga Nova) that I'm giving you the orders to "RP at will" meaning that you can RP my characters just for the sake of the fact that the story has started to stagnate and to prevent a total loss, and to keep things going, you can Rp my characters until i get free time.

(Free time!?! *Laughs* I crack myself up sometimes. Free time !?! That's like saying that I have a life. HA HA HA It cracks me up.)

(Sorry, getting back on track) I think it is wise to authorize both of you with the task of RPing the characters because I can't garentee that I can post this week and when i get a chance, I'll Rp my character where you both left them off.

OOC: Alright, I'll do it. I've done this with guys before

((OOC: I got a story... When I was a child, I had a fever. My hands felt just like two balloons. It's funny though. Now that feeling's here once again. You're probably confused, I'm sure. Sorrt though, I can't explain, you would not understand. Its just... this is not how I am. I, I am afraid, have becom confortably numb))

((OOC: Hmm... RP your characters, ok.))

The speedboat had arrived, but Ivanov wasn't any happier. His son was mortally wounded, his son's murderer was at large, and his police protection had almost completely vanished as quick as the bullet that bullet in the commissioner's head.

He carried his son, now more calm, or unconscious, to the awaiting boat. He only hoped the boat would get him to shore as quick as possible.

It's no secret in Snake Eaters. Most soliders have small gene therapy, but our special forces have more than most.They are amazing soliders without it, but the so-called 'solider genes' make them better

"Novgova's army is all-elite. Imagine 2 billion people trying out for one job. You're bound to get the best of the best and the brightest of the bright. The average IQ of the average foot soldier is 128, which is a lot better than most. Many have master's degrees before joining the army. Physical and mental fitness for those in the army are at the highest standards. And this is beofre the army. Never mind if some are actually enhanced.

Good pay and good benefits attract many, since a six-figure salary is pretty common."

Alexa, cell phone rang.

"Excuse me."

*opens cell*

[Alexa] "Hello?"

[Alexa] "It's me Alexa."

[Alexa] "Andrew?"

[Andrew Grey] "Did you hear? Something's terribly wrong. The commissioner's dead. Quite possibly Mitchel's dead, too. We can get through because the armed men didn't surrender-"

[Alexa] "What? What are you talking about?"

[Andrew Grey] "Armed men burst into the police station, killed most of the police there and the commissioner. When they realized they couldn't escape, they took cops hostage. Now there's a hostage situation. ART (Armed Response Team) 12 and 13 are on site, and the National Guard's HRT (Hostage Rescue Team) is 15 minutes out. I'm on my way down there right now."

[Alexa] "Is Mitchell dead, what about the others?"

[Andrew Grey] "They claim they have killed the entire CIB OCB Team. I'm sorry Alexa. Apparently we're the only one's left."

[Alexa] "I'm on my way, too."

[Andrew Grey] "I don't know if there's anything you can do anymore. I don't know if there's anything I can do anymore."

[Alexa] "I'm on my way, too."

[Andrew Grey] "I guess I'll see you there."

[Alexa] "See you there."

Alexa, visibly shaken, hangs up the phone.

"I need to get the police station. You think you could get me there?"

Sal sped onwards on the speedboat for the coast. Alex was furious, angry at the setup. Arthas was more reserved, lost in thought. Alex spoke "So, I assume you are going to war with us against the Kokoskas?" Arthas cleared his throat "With us?" Alex nudged him in the elbows sharply, repeating his question.

"Novgova's army is all-elite. Imagine 2 billion people trying out for one job. You're bound to get the best of the best and the brightest of the bright. The average IQ of the average foot soldier is 128, which is a lot better than most. Many have master's degrees before joining the army. Physical and mental fitness for those in the army are at the highest standards. And this is beofre the army. Never mind if some are actually enhanced.

Good pay and good benefits attract many, since a six-figure salary is pretty common."

Alexa, cell phone rang.

"Excuse me."

*opens cell*

[Alexa] "Hello?"

[Alexa] "It's me Alexa."

[Alexa] "Andrew?"

[Andrew Grey] "Did you hear? Something's terribly wrong. The commissioner's dead. Quite possibly Mitchel's dead, too. We can get through because the armed men didn't surrender-"

[Alexa] "What? What are you talking about?"

[Andrew Grey] "Armed men burst into the police station, killed most of the police there and the commissioner. When they realized they couldn't escape, they took cops hostage. Now there's a hostage situation. ART (Armed Response Team) 12 and 13 are on site, and the National Guard's HRT (Hostage Rescue Team) is 15 minutes out. I'm on my way down there right now."

[Alexa] "Is Mitchell dead, what about the others?"

[Andrew Grey] "They claim they have killed the entire CIB OCB Team. I'm sorry Alexa. Apparently we're the only one's left."

[Alexa] "I'm on my way, too."

[Andrew Grey] "I don't know if there's anything you can do anymore. I don't know if there's anything I can do anymore."

[Alexa] "I'm on my way, too."

[Andrew Grey] "I guess I'll see you there."

[Alexa] "See you there."

Alexa, visibly shaken, hangs up the phone.

"I need to get the police station. You think you could get me there?"

Santos looked at her, wondering what was wrong. He shook himself, picking up the H&K USP from its place on the sideboard. He checked the clip, which was full, then slipped into a thigh holster,"Sure, I can give you a ride"

Five Minutes later
He drove quick, nipping in and out of traffic in order to get there in the shortest amount of time. He looked at Alexa, for whom he felt a strange affinity,"What happened?"

Sal sped onwards on the speedboat for the coast. Alex was furious, angry at the setup. Arthas was more reserved, lost in thought. Alex spoke "So, I assume you are going to war with us against the Kokoskas?" Arthas cleared his throat "With us?" Alex nudged him in the elbows sharply, repeating his question.

Ivanov quickly dodged the question, not willing to give a definate answer to anything. He looked at his son, who was now dead, and looked up at the moon.

"We'd better hurry. If Kokosko did what she said she did, a whole block of your territory is going to be leveled, if it isn't already." I hope you have a car waiting. She's too far to catch up to her now, but we might be able to catch her before she reaches her territory, and safety."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrew Grey was waiting at the police station for Alexa to arrive. Just a few minutes before she arrived, he got a call.

"Hello?"

"This is Inspector Chaderick. Due to the current circumstances, You are now Acting CIB chief in Port Smolensk until further orders. Is that understood?" the inspector asked dryly and monotone.

As a politician, and not a real CIB agent, as Mitchell used to put it, he didn't give a damn about any one of them as was evident from the lack of emotion over Mitchell's death.

"Tonight the CIB has been dealt an embarrassing blow."

As always, he was more concerned about how he looked than what was actually going on.

"Andrew Grey, you have four hours until the State Police arrive to take over the city's police department. I don't want them to take all the credit for wrapping this thing up. If you do not make an arrest by that time, I will have your head."

Andrew Grey insisted, "Sir, we don't even have a clue to who has done this. Heck, we haven't been able to get into the police station yet."

"Well then, too bad. If you need someone to arrest, arrest Ivanov. He's probably responsible for this, and if he isn't, people would believe it anyway."

Although Andrew didn't like Ivanov and wanted him behind bars, bringing Ivanov in for someone else's crime while they were still at large wasn't exaclty what he had in mind.

"You still there Andrew? Our surveillance team had spotted Ivanov's last location as being somewhere by the marinas at the east end of the city. go find him, and arrest him at all costs. Unless you find the real perpetrator, but leaving it to, I know that's never going to happen. Get moving!"

Andrew hopped into his unmarked police car, mounted a blue light on his dashboard, and sped off toward the docks.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five Minutes later
He drove quick, nipping in and out of traffic in order to get there in the shortest amount of time. He looked at Alexa, for whom he felt a strange affinity,"What happened?"

"They killed them all. The armed men in the police station. Negotiators are dealing with them right now, and they're expected to give in any second. but they killed Mitchell. They killed my friends and collegues. Now only Andrew and I are left out of our group. I just don't know what to do anymore." Alexa said, needing someone to comfort her.

Andrew Grey pulled up to the Coast Guard station. He ran inside.

"I need help," Andrew said while he flashed his badge. "First, did anyone see a black, tinted-windowed limousine anywhere by the docks or anywhere that is out of the ordinary. Two, does anyone know of any suspicious behavior around these docks tonight or involving any boats whether in the marina or otherwise at sea?"

"The only suspicious behavior so far this night has been you," a Coast Guard man replied. "Well there was a ship that sank tonight, goes by the name of Pearl of the Sea a lovely but decrepit ship that was rented out. Should've been alright for a few more years, though. I don't know why it sank. So far the Coast Guard has recovered a headless body, most likely because of some freak accident. But, uhh--"

Andrew interupted. "I need to see records on who rented the boat tonight and I need trasportation to the Coast Guard vessel and to the location of the sinking."

"Sorry, sir. I don't think I have permission to authorize such a request, and your badge isn't going to help the situation," said the man. Andrew already didn't like the guy, and wasn't in a mood to explain the situation.

"Look, sir, by the Terrorist Act of 1993, I am authorized to take whatever measures necessary to investigate or foil any terrorist attempt and apprehend suspects, including slamming you into the ground and putting a cap up your ass, is that understood?"

The man thought about it for a while, and acknowledged him.

"Terrorist Act of 1993, ay? The file on my desk over here has a synopsis of the ship's history over here, and information on who has rented it and its last known coordinates, which is apprently here," he said pointing to a map on the wall.

He put a pushpin where the ship was sunk

"As you can see, it wasn't very far from the prison ship-"

Andrew interupted again. "Thank you thank you. Now, let me see the file."

Andrew grabbed the files. He went straight to the back of the folder, where the more recent files were and jumped straight to the renter. It was under Eva Kokosko. Somehow he had a feeling that Ivanov's appearance at the dock and the renting of the boat was no coincidence. Actually the feeling was more of a giant kick in the pants than a feeling. He was positive the two had something in common.

"I need transportation, immediately to the sinking!" Adrew said.

Andrew and the man quickly boarded a Coast Guard launch and headed to the cutter that was at the scene.

"They killed them all. The armed men in the police station. Negotiators are dealing with them right now, and they're expected to give in any second. but they killed Mitchell. They killed my friends and collegues. Now only Andrew and I are left out of our group. I just don't know what to do anymore." Alexa said, needing someone to comfort her.

He hesitated, then took one hand off the steering wheel, and put it on her arm,"I know how it feels Alexa. I saw my entire team killed before my eyes once before. And my family."

He paused again, as he relived the times that it had happened, then continued,"You need to find a new path... but first, lets make them pay. I'll help you"

Sal slowed the boat as they approached the coast. "Hey sir?" He turned to the three passengers "We got some red-and-blues up on the docks, what now?" Alex shrugged his shoulders, still having a hopefulness to his face to the thought of Ivanov allying with them for a war with the Kokoskos. Arthas sighed, flashing a tempermental look to Alex's expression "Mr. Ivanov, sir, I have some coastal property we can head to, but we might have company there, if Ms. Eva really was going to hit my soil. We can risk it, unless you have a place you want to head for."

Sal slowed the boat as they approached the coast. "Hey sir?" He turned to the three passengers "We got some red-and-blues up on the docks, what now?" Alex shrugged his shoulders, still having a hopefulness to his face to the thought of Ivanov allying with them for a war with the Kokoskos. Arthas sighed, flashing a tempermental look to Alex's expression "Mr. Ivanov, sir, I have some coastal property we can head to, but we might have company there, if Ms. Eva really was going to hit my soil. We can risk it, unless you have a place you want to head for."

"Don't you understand? You have a serious situation. Right now or two minutes from now, your territory is about to be leveled," Ivanov explained.

"I know you are trying to push me into an alliance, but that isn't your concern right now. Regardless about how I feel right now about you, I still don't want to see Eva win. We need to get her now or we'll never survive the government backlash we'll receive in the morning."

The Coast Guard launch left the docks, completely unaware that in a boat only 100m away, survivors of the sunken ship and criminal masterminds were in one boat so close.

"The jackets have left, we can dock, but we need to find a car or vehicle of some sort, some kind of weapon, and we need to move immediately. We have no time. If you care about anybody at all, evacuate them NOW. No time to argue, no time to try something else and we will not make it there in time because she might have already done it."

Sal sped for the docks, where he wasn't really from. Arthas pulled out a cell phone and called back at the hotel, muttering under his breath 'I'm not tryng to ally with you.'. "Hello?... Get the hell out of there... Everyone... Get the trucks, round everyone up... NO!... You stupid bastard... Civilians out first... Yes, civilians... Dammit, don't argue. Just get them in vehicles and spread out... No time to explain... The troops? Spread them out over the territory... No, not Ivanov, Kokoska... NO TIME TO EXPLAIN, JUST DO IT!!!" He slammed the phone shut and tossed it in his coat pocket. Alex offered "You can come with us, sir, I think Arthas' 3000GT might be a bit more suitable for this."

He hesitated, then took one hand off the steering wheel, and put it on her arm,"I know how it feels Alexa. I saw my entire team killed before my eyes once before. And my family."

He paused again, as he relived the times that it had happened, then continued,"You need to find a new path... but first, lets make them pay. I'll help you"

"How?" Alexa asked. "We don't know where to start. Those men in the police station might talk, but being still holed up in there, it could be hours before they come out. Negotiators say they'll come out soon because they have no where to go. But, but we don't know that. And there are no other leads."

Sal sped for the docks, where he wasn't really from. Arthas pulled out a cell phone and called back at the hotel, muttering under his breath 'I'm not tryng to ally with you.'. "Hello?... Get the hell out of there... Everyone... Get the trucks, round everyone up... NO!... You stupid bastard... Civilians out first... Yes, civilians... Dammit, don't argue. Just get them in vehicles and spread out... No time to explain... The troops? Spread them out over the territory... No, not Ivanov, Kokoska... NO TIME TO EXPLAIN, JUST DO IT!!!" He slammed the phone shut and tossed it in his coat pocket. Alex offered "You can come with us, sir, I think Arthas' 3000GT might be a bit more suitable for this."

Eva Kokoska had already dropped by Arthas's territory and was well on her way home. Her men had carefullly planted C4 in between buildings, and she herself had delivered a "package" for Arthas which was now sitting somewhere outside his office for Arthas's return, which Eva was sure was not to happen.

Eva stared at her watch 3,2,1 ...

Although far away, she could have sworn to have seen the flash.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

All of the bombs exploded simultaneously, fire shooting up into the nighttime sky. Ivanov witnessing the blast, stood and watched as smoke billowed out of the block like a giant chimney.

"Still might not be too late to catch up to her if you try," Ivanov said.

"How?" Alexa asked. "We don't know where to start. Those men in the police station might talk, but being still holed up in there, it could be hours before they come out. Negotiators say they'll come out soon because they have no where to go. But, but we don't know that. And there are no other leads."

"I may sound emotionless here, but your negotiators are talking bollocks. Those men are in there for a reason, and they won't leave until they get what they want. Have they already tried sending in a HRT?"

Alex watched as the night disappeared for a moment, the smoke billowing in the distance. "DAMMIT! I guess it's war. Arthas, call up the whoever's left, give them some attack orders, one of those plans you have ready." Arthas frowned, keeping his hands away from his phone. "Arthas, c'mon!" Alex repeated. Arthas remained silent. Alex scowled "Arthas, you're a leader, do your job. Order our troops in to that bitch's territory and have them raze it ot the ground." Arthas walked over to his car, ignoring Alex. "Mr. Ivanov, will you be accompaning us?"

"I may sound emotionless here, but your negotiators are talking bollocks. Those men are in there for a reason, and they won't leave until they get what they want. Have they already tried sending in a HRT?"

"HRT is already here and suiting up in case. But as they have no where to go and no hope of escape they'll eventually give up, they always do. And these men are smart. They'll give up. It's just that we have no time."

A crackle over the radio caught her attention.

Attention all units! Explosion at 144th and Waterfront Ave. Whole block is ablaze. Fire and first aid requested.

This is Chief of Fire Brigade 12 on the scene. Men with guns sighted. Suspect explosion is crime related, I repeat explosion possibly crime related. Urgent police assisstance is required. I cannot risk the lives of my until threat is neutralized. Urgent police attention is required.

Understood. Attention all available police. Armed suspects at 144th and Waterfront Ave.

As Arthas got in the driver's seat of the car, his phone rang. It was one of his comm guys. "Hey sir" The man on the phone began "The cops are en route to the explosion, they are going to clear the block before fire trucks arrive." Arthas replied "I'm on my way there right now. Tell the boys to not provide any threat to the cops. Tell them to holster their weapons and cooperate with the cops. We need those fire truck as soon as possible. Remember, we should be moving the civilians to safer places. It isn't their fault this happened..." Arthas said guiltily, sighing at the end. "...that is all Platov." Arthas tucked away his cell.

"HRT is already here and suiting up in case. But as they have no where to go and no hope of escape they'll eventually give up, they always do. And these men are smart. They'll give up. It's just that we have no time."

A crackle over the radio caught her attention.

Attention all units! Explosion at 144th and Waterfront Ave. Whole block is ablaze. Fire and first aid requested.

This is Chief of Fire Brigade 12 on the scene. Men with guns sighted. Suspect explosion is crime related, I repeat explosion possibly crime related. Urgent police assisstance is required. I cannot risk the lives of my men until threat is neutralized. Urgent police attention is required.

Understood. Attention all available police. Armed suspects at 144th and Waterfront Ave.

Santos started,"Explosions... fires... hostage situations... god, what wouldn't I do for a SHADOW team right now. Where to, Alexa? Still the station?"

Santos started,"Explosions... fires... hostage situations... god, what wouldn't I do for a SHADOW team right now. Where to, Alexa? Still the station?"

"No, get us out. I think I just found my breakthrough. Get us to the otherside of the city."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Nothing to see here," The Coast Guard captain explained. Andrew was on the Coast Guard cutter.

"What about the headless?"

The captain, apparently baffled by what Andrew already knew, caught him off guard. He led Andrew belowdecks to a black body bag.

"May I?" Andrew asked.

"At your own will."

Andrew unzipped the black body bag to reveal a horribly sickening sight. It was a headless man, still bloody. The body was starting to stiffen from rigormortis. The man's clothes were stained balck; the oil realeased from the sinking ship had obviously been the culprit. Andrew wasn't sure if he should puck or not.

"Eeeee," Andrew squirmed.

He rolled the corpse over on his front and examined the right back pocket, where he found a wallet.

"What's this?" Andrew said aloud.

Andrew ignored the considerable sum of cash in the wallet and went looking straight for the driver's license. It was Mr. Kondrashov.

"Damn."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ivanov got in the car. "Is Evans going to fit?"

Arthas nodded. For being a sports car, it was pretty roomy. "So, what should we do?" Alex asked, less to Arthas and more to Ivanov and Evans.

He looked at her, then spun the wheel, heading for the docks. As he drove, he reached under the seat, and retireved his P-90 submachine gun. It had served him well before, and could be easily hidden,"Where to exactly?"

Arthas nodded. For being a sports car, it was pretty roomy. "So, what should we do?" Alex asked, less to Arthas and more to Ivanov and Evans.

"Give me a cell. I can cut her off before she reaches her territory. After all, mine borders hers," said Ivanov.

He looked at her, then spun the wheel, heading for the docks. As he drove, he reached under the seat, and retireved his P-90 submachine gun. It had served him well before, and could be easily hidden,"Where to exactly?"

"144th and Waterfront Ave, to the scene of the crime," said Alexa.

Santos nodded, and drove quickly, finding the location. ((Just going to have to improvise here)). The buildings were torched, smouldering wrecks of what they had once been. From the construction, warehouses seemed a likely idea. He pulled up short, and turned off the engine.

"Let's go"

Santos nodded, and drove quickly, finding the location. ((Just going to have to improvise here)). The buildings were torched, smouldering wrecks of what they had once been. From the construction, warehouses seemed a likely idea. He pulled up short, and turned off the engine.

"Let's go"

OOC: This is Arthaga's place, i think it's supposed to be apartments, warehouses and hotels. But don't hold me to it.

IC:

"Damn, there's nothing here," Alexa said. "Wait- wait a second. These are mobsters. I think a little interrogation is in order."

((OOC: Apartments, a hotel, a car dealership and a couple of warehouses and some storefront. I'll post later.))

OOC: Yay! Someone else is alive!!!

OOC: I'm alive Nov, but GCSE's start this coming week, so not really coming online as much atm

OOC: so how's the GCSE?

OOC: Dude, it sucks. I've got two exams tomorrow, my least favourite subjects

He he he he...

(Just kidding. How did you do?)

By the way, I still check here too.

((Exams are alright at the moment, no more till friday))

By the way, I still check here too.

OOC: I need a cell phone for Ivanov.

*nudge* *nudge*

He's going to call ahead for roadblocks to prevent Eva from escaping, thus the beginning of the end.

I feel kind of weird. All of you all have in the thousands of posts.

I have been in NS for about 2 years and all of you who have been here less than me have 3 times as many (approx) and in Snake Eaters' case, has about 10 times as many posts.

Worse, I estimate about 1/4 of my posts are actually just bumps.

I know, I know I'm pathetic.

I have no life Novgova. That and I post alot with my friends. You're better than me anyway... and sometimes, its the ones with the lowest post counts that are among the best.

Aw, I didn't want Eva to get caught, I had a plan.