NationStates Jolt Archive

Late afternoon sun flooded Emerald Enterprises, a one hundred and twenty-story cylindrical office tower of silver metal framing broad expanses of glass that reflected light in hues of deepest green. The parking was completely underground, leaving the column to rise from a seventy acre wooded park highlighted by a serene reflecting pool and numerous statues, primarily in the classical Grecian mode. Woodchip paths wound through the park, discretely lined with state of the military art grade sensors. More stood all but invisible sentry throughout the zone surrounding the head quarters building. In the world of the Mega Corps even the biggest of the ‘great whites’ left nothing to chance. Emerald Enterprises private army was more professionally equipped and trained than many of the so-called ‘first world’ nations. Though they certainly did not advertise that fact. It would have been bad form.

And form is everything.

“Mr. Price, Mr. Hunt is here to see you.” The voice over the intercom was well modulated, pronunciation precise.

“Show him in if you please.” Edward Allen Price, Chief Operations Officer for Emerald Enterprises was an erect and vigorous seventy, late middle age for the very medically progressed Tanaaran’s. His barely graying hair sported a stylist’s effort that cost as much as his bespoken suit of proper British tailoring.

The executive secretary was polished perfection, matching the elegant décor perfectly. Rising gracefully she courteously escorted the not as equally polished gentleman to the massive double doors that stood slightly ajar at the end of the wide corridor. She pushed the counter weighted doors open easily and stepped aside so that Mr. Hunt could enter. Mr. Price caught her eye and with a tiny shake of his head let her know that the usual tray of comestibles would not be needed. A tiny nod of her own and she was pulling the massive ironwood doors completely closed.

Once the doors were closed she clapped her hands sharply, just once and the fake walls that hid the guards stationed along the corridor slid into the floor. Mr. Hunt would not be returning through the ‘official’ corridor, thus no need for the guards to remain. She had no qualms about dismissing them. The visitor had passed through several discrete security stations upon entering the complex. Metal detectors, explosive sniffers, and a physical pat down were the least of what had been done to ensure Mr. Price’s security. Once they had departed she activated the automatic security systems and returned to her desk. There she quietly activated a system that only she knew about. Mr. Price and the representative of a full dozen of Tanaara’s mega corps would not have as private a meeting as they thought they were. Taking her handbag from the cabinet she turned the phones off and departed for the day. She passed through ten security checkpoints on her way down to her vehicle, nodding and smiling at the security personnel. Veronica James had been Mr. Price’s executive secretary for nearly twenty years, but at each checkpoint she was required to undergo the same procedure a casual visitor might have. Security took their jobs very seriously. They were well paid to.

Edward Allen did not come around the irregularly shaped and highly polished slab of lapis lazuli that acted as his desk when Mr. Hunt entered, but he had risen briefly from the custom made cobalt leather executives chair. “Please M. Hunt, if you would like something from the bar, I do believe the sun is over the yardarm.” He waved at the elaborately hand carved rose wood and marble free standing bar that took up most of one wall of the luxuriously appointed office. Edward Allen had served in the navy many years ago and liked to use old naval amophisms when he could.

Mr. Hunt, whose lesser status became more apparent with each comparison to the near limitless wealth displayed about him, just shook his head as he dropped his bulk into an authentic Louis Quartorzi. He ignored, or seemed to, the wince that Edward Allen could not quite suppress and sitting the titanium brief case in his lap, slowly undid the security latches and raised the lid.

“Mr. Price, I have here that which you requested. My principle is very determined that we should have your agreement on this matter, and made every haste to procure for you the written assurances you demanded.” He seemed to be unaware of how stilted his words sounded as he set a leather bound file on the desk and pushed it towards the older man. “I must impress upon you.” He continued “That my principle and his compatriots are most unsalubrious at having to put their pledges in written formality. They believe that as in days of old a handshake should be proficient.”

Edward Allen, for he preferred to always be called by both names, hid his nearly uncontrollable impulse to laugh aloud. No one did business any more upon the strength of a handshake, and every one of his co conspirators knew this from the time they were in diapers. He was going to have to upgrade their hiring practices once he absorbed them into Emerald a few years down the line. Where ever they had found Mr. Hunt, it didn’t pay to return there to recruit further.

The file did contain every thing that Mr. Hunt stated that it did and Edward Allen nodded then laid the folder aside. Now he did rise and come around the desk to shake Mr. Hunts hand then leading him over to the concealed elevator that deposit him on the proper level. “Thank you Mr. Hunt, and please let your principle know that he will be contacted without delay. The elevator will take you directly down.”

The elevator was half way down before the odorless, invisible gas filled the car and in seconds it’s occupant was dead. The doors did not open once the sub basement had been reached until high-speed fans had exchanged the gas for plain air. Still the three men in combat fatigues took no chances and pulled on rebreathers before entering and depositing the corpse in a heavy green body bag. This was carried to the hazmat rated incinerator and the remains disposed of.

Mr. Edward Allen Price, COO of Emerald Enterprise contemplated his prize. His unfortunate competitors though they had the top prize all but in their hands, fate of the nation all sewn up. He knew differently. The nation wasn’t the biggest prize, not by a long shot.

A brief sentence in interphone set the wheels in motion. His people were most competent.

***********************************
The Tanaaran Intelligencer was well named, and subscribed to by agencies the world around. The paper more often had the inside scoops before the agencies did. The tiny village closest to the cottage that Mercy and Fortier were residing in didn’t carry it however. The local weekly was all they had. So on Sundays while Fortier slept in, Mercy sped the Hexx to the nearest city, roughly an hour away at the speeds the Hexx cruised at, to grab a copy and any relatively exotic delicacies they had run out of during the week

This deceptively calm Sunday was completely different than what had become the norm.

Fortier was abruptly wrenched from sleep by the roar of a dual turbo charged v12, the squeal of brakes and the fearful crunch that marked an impact. He staggered from the bed, wrapping a sheet about him to view the dutch door of the cottage standing wide open, sections of newspaper dropped helter skelter. The click of fumbled and hesitant keystrokes, or perhaps it was the faint sound of a bitten back sob, drew his attention to the deep bay window nitch that had become their computer space, Mercy’s laptop connected to a satellite uplink and the web. Mercy was hunched over the keyboard, and the tremors wracking her were clearly visible.

Fortier, realizing it was Mercy, tossed his Dagger 9mm back onto the bed into the bed room, and puled on a pair of jeans. He walked out, sitting down next to her. He could tell something was obviously wrong. Of course, it wasn't just the crash.

He could tell from her body position, the type of sobs, the shudders, what it was. It was the same type that many persons, men and women alike, expierienced when they lost someone close. Fortier had to wonder, her adopted parents, and sister, were both dead, so he didn't quite know who it was. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. "Hey babe, whats wrong?"

Jerkily she turned from the laptop and leaned against his shoulder, as one hand gestured towards the closest section of newspaper. It was the cover section of the Intelligencer, and all he could see from where he sat was the bottom half of the front page, and that offered no clues.

He caught it with limber toes and pulled it up. The color picture that took up fully half of the top of the page spoke volumes. The picture was of an ocean going crane lifting a beslimed, seaweed draped, section of an airplanes tail section. Specifically a Antonov124's tali section livired in the colors of the Tanaaran Air Service and displaying the registry numbers 250250. Fortier'd last seen that tail section climbing towards the clear blue as he'd made arrangements to have the various of his vehicles warehoused near the Ianisle airport.

The much smaller picture next to it caught his eye, a grainy black and white...of Mercy.

The aritcle went on to report that the big military transport was on permanat loan to M.M.Hexx, the granddaughter of one of Tanaara's most renown statesmen and multi term CEO's - Tanaara titled their heads of state Cheif Executive officers. That Miss Hexx, internationally renown race car driver, and her team had all perished in the crash, but regretfully, due to various factors, none of the bodies had been recovered yet.

Shimada Kazuma looked across the plane's window. A female voice had announced their arrival at the capital of Tanara a minute ago. He examined the airport as the plane did its landing maneuvers. It was a regular rich country airplane, nothing special about it. In fact, he wondered if there was anything special in any corner of the world as it was.

It was pointless, however, to think about it. So, he allowed his mind to rest for a moment, before the plane's wheel came in contact with the ground, and the transport came to a rough halt. The flight was overall pleasant, even with the occasional turbulence. He watched the surroundings nervously, as plane and airport connected to allow the passengers to leave. Finally, they could go outside.

Kazuma was lucky, his bag came out first. Quickly, he grabbed it and walked to the bathroom. Opening it, he took out his katana, and took hold of it. Fortunately, his overcoat was large enough to hide the weapon. And if someone asked him, well.... He had a certificate written in 10 different languages allowing him to carry that kind of arm.

He walked out of the airport, and into a cab. "Where to, sir?" The driver asked. "To City." Kazuma answered. He had no idea where to go. "Y'know, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that answer, I'd be a very rich man. Ya look like a rich guy, so maybe a good place for ya to stay a couple o' days might be the Royal Hotel, just near the Emerald Enterprises tower." Kazuma did quick calculations of his cash. and nodded towards the man. "Take me there."

Montguard, the capitol of Tanaara was sprawling rather than concentrated, and connected by a vast array of transport methods. High speed subways, and over head monorails were the most used, while broad boulevarded streets wound their way between various commercial and residential zones. They were filled primarily with electric or the fairly new to the market hydrogen fuel cell vehicles. Here and there powerful high end sports cars roared along the well maintained German style autobahns. But most of the people seemed to prefer walking. Health and fitness had always been a cultural priority.

Tanaara had been a planed country rather than growing higgley piggledy from ancient roots. The cities had been laid out according to carefully designed plans and suffered little from the traffic and population congestion other large cities and countries fell prey to.

There had never been any form of income or inheritance tax, but in the last two decaded a small sales tax had been implimented, but it applied only to citizens or resident aliens, but not the casual vacationer or tourist.

A perky young woman, brunette locks caught up in a soft french twist, well dressed and smiling welcomed their latest visitor as he stepped up to the desk. His asiatic heritage caused no loss of composure, there were many of the various oriental genotypes in the Tanaaran populace.

"Good afternoon sir. How can we of Hotel Royale asisst you this afternoon?"

Her discrete name tag read: Robyn.

Ruben Halifax found himself a comfortable position within the sun as he sat down at one of the local Cafes. He'd only been in Montguard, Tanara less than a day and he was already enjoying himself. After the mess in Africa, Ruben had decided never to go back to a country like that again and merely stick to civlisation. So far it was paying off.

Coffee in hand, Ruben took in the sights for a few moments. He had to admit the place was much cleaner than Assington and the people seemed much happier. Perhaps that was to do with not having to fear vampires or maybe the government was just generally nicer. Either way, that really wasn't Ruben's concern.

It was time to make some money once again and he had heard that Tanara was the place to be for shady jobs and operations. Apparently there were plenty of rich people willing to hire someone else to do their dirty work. This didn't bother Ruben in the slightest so long as the money was good.

And so he would wait. Ruben didn't quite know how things worked here but he'd been told this was the place to be if one was seeking such employment.

[tag]

Kazuma looked at the young woman behind the counter. Robyn was her name. "I need a room. The least expensive one." Robyn must've surely thought of him as a cheapskate, but just as well. That's what he was, anyway. "Certainly, please wait for a moment." She consulted the computer behind the counter, and after a few seconds, came out the number of an unnoccupied room. "Room 442". After he was aquainted with the price per night, and he had gotten himself enough cash to spend almost a month at the hotel, a packet boy came to carry his bags.

They arrived at the room. It was... larger than his home back in Tokyo. It wasn't the monster some apartments were either. Comfortable was the name. The packet boy discretely put the bags down, and not as discretely put himself in the universal 'tip' position: open hand by the waist, ready to cup whatever was put in there, and a vague look towards the horizon. Kazuma perceived what he wanted, and gave him 1 dollar. "Thank you, sir." He dismissed the guy, who was getting on his nerves.

Nothing to do there... For now, he decided to watch some TV. The 17'' monitor was good enough. He sat on the bed, and turned on the thing. "[i]... plane crash in the ocean. Among the dead, is M.M. Hexx, renown race card driver and granddaughter of one of our country's CEO's. THe reasons behind the accident are still uncertain." Whenever there were uncertain reasons for anything, there always stood the finger of conspiracy. Kazuma grinned. He had come to the right place. It was all a matter of getting a "lord to serve".

When Fortier looked down at her as she cuddled against his shoulder she raised eyes to him that weren't filled with sorrow, but blazing with fury.

"They were assassinated Rob, and I've been Deleted. This was deliberate and every one of my agency files have been wiped, all my assets closed out. I don't exist any more, they've erased me. I can't get in, my passwords are wiped."

Mercy had been one of TID's youngest but most respected 'Supply Clerks' the controller/ managers of the in the field 'Aquisitions Agents'. She had 'retired' three years ago to become one of the rare 'Field Clerks' - only the Chief Director of the TID above her as she chose her own missions and accounted only to the Director. The Chief Director was the legendary Marcus Morgan, paterfamilias of a family as old and as famous in Tanaara as the Hexx's. He'd been the head of the Directorate for nearly thirty years and didn't look to be slowing down yet.

"Morgan wouldn't have done that Rob, he would have the entire county searching for my body, and he wouldn't have locked me out. Some one else had to have done this but ..."

She fell silent as she laid out the patterns of power within Tanaara in her mind trying to come to some working conclusion. Power and placement could get as Byzantine as any countrys and worse than most. Eventually she shook her head. She was no virgin with politics- she couldn't be, but loathed them with a passion. It was one of her falings, that she refused to think about them until she was forced to, and didn't keep political data in memory as much as she properly should.

"I just don't know the current score ...and I have no idea who inside the Directorate would be after me, or why. I haven't made any major enemies, or I haven't stepped on any ones operational 'toes' that I know of."

There was no one other than Morgan or those above him that had the power to wipe her so thoroughly. The why was more unsettling than the who.

***************************************

A lady wended her way through the tables of the cafe, her breezily flowing sundress showing off a fine figure. Warm auburn hair framed a discretely made up face that was easily assesed as 'beautiful'. Complimenting sandals and handbag all but completeed the ensemble. The slender choker wound around her neck with its no more than thumbnailsized, but intricate handcrafted cloisonne and jeweled orchid clip that marked her as one of the exclusive Societe d' Orchidee. She knew many at the cafe, for she was greeted in a warm and welcoming fashion by many taking their ease about the cafe's tables and enjoying an afternoon's conversation. She returned the salutations and many times stopped to chat a few moments, and perhaps make discrete arrangements for later assignations.

The Societe d' Orchidee (http://www.atddm.com/So.jpg) was an uniquely Tanaaran ...custom. Their power rivaled the legenday courtesans of the city-state of Venice at the height of its power centuries ago. They moved among the the powerful with assured and easy elegance. A part of the most exclusive of worlds but not ensnared by it, seperate and secure. Only a fool dismissed them as anything resembling prostitutes or 'common'. Entry into the powerful and exclusive comitatus was harder than becoming a Tayu, the premier Geisha of the Floating World of Japan of the early seventeen hundreds.

And it was an open secret that they acted as emmisaries for those that could persuade them. Many considered them a shadow government...and they might be correct.

She paused as she began to pass the table the Assington sat at. Cool jade eyes shielded by, but not hidden behind, delicately crafted sunglasses gave him a discrete look over, and she gave him a miniscule, but courteous nod.

Her gently assessing, but very thorough, inspection left Ruben with the feeling that his face had been matched against an internal database, found...and appreciated.

Robert nodded, pulling Mercy closer. He didn't know what to say in the way of comforting her, he had usually been the one killing, and he had let a priest handle informing families of death. He just hugged her, and began mentaly listing of names in his mind. He finally hit one, and stood up, walking over to the closet.

He dug through, and found a suit, and began to dress. "Babe, you should put on some good clothes. I have an idea of what to do." He walked into the kitchen, and poured himself a cup of coffee, and drank it, waiting for Mercy to dress.

Mercy drew a deep breath and looked at the Irridium phone sitting next to the lap top. She knew she dare not use it. Even though it was highly encrypted, just using it would trigger automatic tracers. And that they certainly did not need at the moment. Letting the breath out slowly she centered herself, calming the melange of mixed emotions flow away.

She turned to her closet and looked for something to match the suit. She chose a flowing summer floral in silk that floated about her calves, with loose three quarter sleeves and a modest neckline. It didn't shout but as it fit her perfectly it whispered her feminity. Looking at which suit he'd pulled out- one of his dressiest suits, she slid on a garter belt and silk hose whose subdued hue matched her light tan and chose spectator pumps that matched the primary colors in the print, a muted green. A light wrap in the same green came along since the weather in Ianisle, she'd learned, could be unpredictable.

Barely there make up, hair pulled up in a smooth french twist and simple but elegant jewelry completed the ensemble. She modeled the outfit for Fortier with a questioning look.

"Does this suit?"

Gaol stepped off the gantry that had brought him down from the upper deck of the ferry, proceeded towards the immigration and customs area and presented his documents for inspection. Dressed rather Spartan and looking decidedly malnourished he did appear to be the usual holiday maker or businessman but he also appeared rather uninteresting.

Having passed through controls without an eyebrow being raised he collected his single large bag which he slung himself into and then headed outside to take a taxi into the heart of Port Royale, he didn’t look much like a tourist not by appearances though but as Gaol had inspected himself before he left his room on the ferry he’d made a mental note to at least have some fun whilst he toured the area in search of potential employment.

None of his clothing was unkempt or particularly unpleasant to the eye but it had such a utilitarian design to it all that in a passing glance one might mistake him for an engineer or someone similarly employed in a rather necessary if manual job. The only remarkable piece of clothing he wore were boots that looked beaten up, sewn together and prized above all else.

Ruben had been idly enjoying his coffee and losing himself within thoughts of his future plans, of life and anything else that particularly concerned him. Sometimes it was a bother to never have anyone to discuss such things with, yet he realised he didn't need an attatchment to hold him back.

Ruben noted the auburn haired woman that passed his table. Her gaze lingered longer than normal and she gave him a slight nod. Perhaps this woman was just the person he was looking for. He didn't know the specific mannerisms for such a place but hopefully he'd picked up on things.

Running a hand through his dark brown hair, Ruben got up as if he were leaving and moved on a path that took him right passed the woman. As he drew closer to her, he spoke in a hushed tone that only she would be able to hear, whilst still gazing forward.

"Perhaps you can help me. I'm looking for some employment."

Robert nodded. He was glad she had chosen something a bit more subdued than her normal dress, and he lead her out of the bedroom, grabbing the Dagger 9mm, and sticking it into a kindey holster under his coat. He grabbed the keys to his ///M3, deciding it would be the better car to take. The work on it had already started, but he had yet to perform the interior "modifications".

The drive was a bit more quiet than his usual drive, none of the blasting down backroads, letting the motor of the BMW rev all the way out. No, this was like the standard Sunday drive to church. In fact, this was exactly a Sunday drive to church. After a half hour of driving, the yellow BMW rolled into the parking lot of a modest church, quiet as was the Iansisleanian norm, and exited the car. Mercy followed, and as he enterd the building, he dipped his hand into the Holy Water, crossing himself, and looked around breifly.

He whispered to Mercy to take a seat, pointing to a pew, and walked over to the confesional. He pulled the curtain closed, and moments later, the small window opened. "Forgive me father, for I have sined," he began slowly. They went through the standard confession opening, and Fortier began to speak. It was about two minutes into his confession, when he said someting that caused him to smile.

"Father, I know this other preist, who I just know checks out the females of his congregation, and has impure thoughts about them. What should I do?"

The priest was silent, and suddenly, the curtain infront of Fortier was ripped open, an Hispanic looking preist standing infront of him, grinning like a mad man. "Robert," he exclaimed, "its damn good to see you. About time you got around to looking me up!"

They hugged, and exchanged pleasentries, before Foriter lead the priest over to Mercy. "Mercy, this is Father Riojas Anavascaro, SSJ, and formaly Sgt. Rio Anavascaro, ICMC," he said, introducing the two. Anavascaro bowed deeply, to her, and took her hand, kissing it gently.

"The pleasure is all mine," he said, smiling. "So," he continued, turning back to Fortier, "what can I do for you. I mean, I know we were freinds and all, but you dont exactly show up out of nowhere like this without wanting something."

"Well," Fortier thought, "we need any information you can give us regarding a recent accident, and maybe some, suplies."

Mercy, like most Tanaaran's was officially agnostic, but she had been in a variety of places of worship before. She quietly sat in the pew, discretely looking about the church, admiring the fine liturgical artwork that adorned the walls.

She stood and accepted the gentle hand kiss and smiled at Father Anavascaro. "Pleased to meet you Father Anavascaro" She said keeping her voice low, then listening intently as Fortier explained to the priest why the'd come.

**********************************

"My dear...Mr. Halifax, is it not? Please come sit with me while we enjoy a bit of croissant and a demitasse of Kona Gold." Gently sliding her arm through his, she allowed him to usher her over the table she indicated. Shaded like the others by a large ivy print on white patio umbrella,this table had, however, a crystal vase of fresh cut orchids of various hues and varieties.

After he'd held her seat for her, and taken his own, a waiter materialized seemingly out of nowhere with a tray bearing a fresh cup of what Ruben had been drinking earlier, and a cup of Kona Gold coffee for her. A platter of tiny, fresh from the oven croissants and a small bowls of whipped butter and assorted jams were set out, the silent waiter disappearing as quickly as he had come.

"So, Mr. Halifax, tell me why I should recommend you?" She asked as she spread a smidgen of blackberry jam on one of the tiny croissants, and took a delicate bite.

*******************************************

The TV had over seven hundred channels to choose from, most of them international satallite feeds, so there was something for all interests. The hotel also boasted many enemities, such as a full exercise gymnasium, spa salon, swimming pools, billard rooms, a nine hole golf course, tennis couts, and several various styles of clubs.

At about three in the afternoon, Shimada Kazuma heared his room phone ringing. It was soft pleasent chimes designed to call attention with out being annoying, and the handset would reach anywhere on the hotels extensive grounds

When he answered, the voice was feminine and the pleasantly accented tones of a native Japanese speaker.

(In Japanese ) "Good afternoon Shimadasan, forgive me for intruding but, I am Himatsu Tomoe of the Tea House of the August Moon. I was wishing to invite you for dinner and a small new moon viewing ceremony this evening."

Ruben nodded as the woman confirmed his identity and guided him towards another table. It seemed his initial guess was right and so the pair sat down and were soon presented with beverages and some light food. He didn't bother paying much attention to the waiter but kept his eyes upon the woman before him. Whilst she may be a potential employer, Ruben trusted no one.

Taking a quick sip of his still hot coffee, Ruben smiled slightly. He liked the way things were done, very business like.

"I'm a proffessional. As long as my employer remains loyal to our agreement I shall always complete my assigned task. I'm well versed in methods of disposing problems and have no qualms about whoever or whatever that problem may be. I'm up to scratch with technology and other implements of whatever trade I find myself in. Essentially, I am good."

The manner in which Ruben spoke and presented himself was enough indication that he was not merely talking himself up. He wasn't the kind of character to be disillusioned by such things as ego. He liked straight facts and had just presented them.

Then headed outside to take a taxi into the heart of Port Royale,

"The heart of the city, Mon? City has many hearts, wha' foah you looking, Mon? There is a Society of Civil Engineers listed being at the Northway Convention Center out by the Halliem International Airport."

The financial and commercial heart of Port Royal enclosed the highest point in the mostly lowlieing city, and was less than two square miles in size. Vehicular traffic into the city core was limited, slide walks ran through, and glass enclosed aerial walkways crisscrossed, the canyons of chrome and glass. The hotels were few and dedicated to business travellers on expense accounts, though there were some fine restraunts and a small upscale entertaimnent complex.

The Intercontinental Port, where Gaol now sat in the old but clean, well maintained taxi, was a massive, sprawling for miles along the coast complex of wharves, warehouses and all the facilities for ocean going mercantileism. It was also were almost every one associated with the port lived. It had it's own redlight district, countless bars and dives, tattoo parlors, a hospital, schools, and a fire department. Seamen, and even the non sea going personell seldom left the port, for mom and pop stores abounded as did hole in the wall eateries and forgien language 'cinees. It was its own city - and a rough one at that, in all but name

Above it lay the Quay, the original port and first buildings of Port Royal. It was a working fusion of serious historical preservation and wildly riotous alternative life styles. No building rose above seven stories, the high water table wouldn't permit it. Pocket gardens abounded, as did museums - fine arts side by side with high end graffitti, expensive beyond bearing hotels known just to the unimaginably wealthy rubbing shoulders with thirty acres of Clan of Fur Tribe, vegetarian furries who lived in teepees and grew their own food. Bordellos ranging from the classy to the totally shocking displayed their wares there, and there were studios that specialized in teaching patrons the 'how to' of the Kama Sutra. Nuevo Loyola University with its international reputation in political science - run by the Jesuits, and the only religiously backed University in the nation- had its campus there beneath towering oaks and elm. Students lived chockablock in effeciency apartments three to five stories above shops and restraunts and filled the many cafe's and bars to over flowing for the months schoolw was in session. The tourists came year around to see the history and the eye opening. Transvestites and Bod Mods flaunted themselves for the tourists, for Tanaarans, even non locals found it no big looksee, but those visitors form less open cultures found it note worthy, even shocking.

Tour buses with silent electric motors crusied there from the more upscale and staid Uptown district that lay between the Quay and Downtown. The major casinos were there as were most of the chain motels. Multiple shopping malls, and entertaiment complexes could be found in the Uptown as could the well known Theatre District where one could always find several productions of 'Broadway' quality and acclaim being performed. Port Royal's renown zoo and arboretum was located here, and a popular family destination.

Uptown was safer by far than the Quay, for the Quay was effectively governed by it's own interests. Long ago certain groups had made it too proffitable for the agents of the law to be there, and so the Quay policed itself. Hurting tourism was bad, anything else as long as it did not attract too much bad press was acceptable.

The cabbie relayed all of this and more in his clearly undrerstandable but richly accented voice. The meter was off and the a/c running. He didn't think that the unassumeingly dressed man would be interested in any other parts of the city, such as the sprawling residential zones with their half million decan, minimum, homes, nor did he look military. He might be looking for the horse or automotive racing complexes across the river, but something told him no.

He bet himself on the engineers confrence.. He waited politely for his passenger to reply. He'd only gotten his cabbies liscense last year, after a long five year apprenticeship and grueling exam. He knew every where in the city was was proud of it. he loved his job

*************************
Essentially, I am good."

The lady listened quietly with more than merely polite interest. She'd liked the way Ruben had spoken, no wash of arrogance, just quietly competent experience. 'He paid too little attention to the waitstaff, but every one does, thank Gnu's for that' she thought to herself as she mentally reviewed the information sent to her via the highly unnoticable earbug that her flowing auburn tresses hid as they tumbled artfully about her shoulders. Her smile sparkled at him.

"My apologies Mr. Halifax, please let me introduce myself. I am Holly, Holly Golightly." She spoke in her cultured voice as she offered one perfectly manicured hand in introduction. "Might I call you Ruben? And might you be free for supper this evening?"

Part of her couldn't help but wonder was he good at everything.

The driver talked far too much for any real use except perhaps inconsequential information, sure he made a good driver for a regular passenger but as Gaol viewed each situation, each contact and each moment a situation that had possibilities he could only see the shortcomings in the driver’s personality. He tugged gently and unassumingly at the corner of his tunic, “You seem to know an awful lot about things, if you think the engineers conference is where I belong then by all means stake the fare on such a destination.”

The buildings of Port Royal, stacked and packed as they were in some ways reminded him of a home he’d not seen in an abysmally long time however, he was here to enjoy himself and if spending sometime at an engineering conference was sufficient to fill a role for a humble taxi driver then he aw no reason to break the image.

Taking the time to gaze at the sites available to him, including the contents of the taxi and the drivers apparent physical build he decided to engage in small talk, that most dreaded of all social arts, “Yeah, you really do seem to know a lot, must of taken you a fine long time to learn all that information or maybe I’m reading you wrong and you’ve just been ferrying folks like me all week?” His accent was fairly broad yet when he’d first spoke it had seem very much subdued almost a mimic of the simpler points of the drivers, now though he spoke in the broad and barking accent of a Comm.

A Comm being someone who lived in the self-governing Communities that had sprung up in pockets along the neglected western coastline, tolerated and generally abused in uneven measures they provided a necessary safety valve for people who needed to get messed up, beaten and scarred but have no questions to answer, forms to fill or reporters to be concerned about and that’s why every poor so and so who couldn’t say no was packed inside the crumbling thirty-year old flats and bungalows.

"Well, Mon do look like the engineers I'se seen, aren't ones for holding with much fancy dress, and sin'sa don' march like a soldier does. Heck Mon, can measure mileage by their steps."

He smiled in the mirror at his passenger "Oh been doing this for a few years. Lots o' Port Royal just kinda sprang up. so tha city is all's confuseing. The test is just killer Mon. Now if those meetings and expositions are just too dull for words, ramble back down ta tha Quay. Lots of fun there, and sin'sa don't look all Aunt Polly just look for tha comforble places"

Before he hopped on to the express way he looked back again. "Of course Mon you could all's start tha."

Fortier explained the situation to Anavascaro, who simply listened. He waited till Fortier finished to offer his help. "Well, I'm not sure exactly what I can do. The Dei doesn't have the ties to the INSA or ICIA that it used to, not on an intell level at least. We can get guns from them, but the rest is up to us."

He walked off towards a back room, motioning for Fortier and Mercy to follow him. He lead them to his private quarters, a spartan room holding a bed, a stand up dresser, a mirror and a closet, with little else. He walked over to hte dresser, and opened it, reaching into the back, and tossing Fortier a rifle. "So this is the new CAR-84, eh?" he asked, looking at the H&K G36C copy.

"Yeah, 6.7mm, 34 round magazine, three round burst and single shot, plus the acces rails," he said, pointing out the attatched flash light and laser dot sight. It also had a Aimpoint style reflex sight, and a strange box mounted on the third, under barrel rail. "Thats a nifty toy," he said, noting Fortier examning it. "Mounted taser. Fifty yard range, enough to take out a buffalo."

Fortier nodded. "How much?"

"What do you need?"

Fortier looked over the gun, the tossed it back to Rio. "Two of those, plenty of ammo, and what else culd ya give us that shoots?"

"These, and the standard Gladeus Dei UMAC 93R-40. Anything else? I have some operatives who aren't to busy right now, just got back from the Northern Baptism."

Fortier shook his head. "Nah, I think we need to keep this a bit quiet, low key and all. So the guns, pasports, maybe some clothes."

"Ever fashionable?"

"Is tactial black ever out of season?"

"Good point. All in all, with papers and guns, we're looking at fifty or sixty."

Fortier nodded again, and pulled a wallet out from an inside pocket on the suit coat. He pulled out a wad of Imitoran Credits, and handed them to Rio. "All I gots on me is twenty. Get me the goods plus a final cost, and you can have the rest."

Rio nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Give me some time to get the stuff, come back in say, four hours?"

"Sure," he said. Fortier looked back at Mercy, and took her hand, leading her out to the car, giving it a gentle squeez. "Looks like we get to go see your place now," he said, opening the door for her on the ///M3.

Kazuma half-smiled as he heard the delightful voice of a woman from his homeland. It was something he needed to hear indeed, and one that nearly made a torrent of memories wash him away. <I would be most pleased to attend, Himatsu-san. Please look forward to it. Please excuse me.> He put down the phone, and decided to take a shower. While he was cleaning himself of impurities, he wondered as to how the woman had gotten his room number. He made sure he had a clean record in Tanara before embarking... Maybe something was to happen at this ceremony? For the worse, Kazuma decided to bring his Desert Eagle with him, just in case.

He got off the shower, and dressed for the occasion, wearing shoes instead of his usual boots, and a black shirt instead of the dark green t-shirt. He didn't abdicate from the overcoat, though, as he could use the protection from the curious eye. The DE was hidden inside a pocket designed for that purpose in the coat. He waited until the late afternoon, and phoned reception. "This is the reception, what can we do for you, Mr. Sheemaada?" Kazuma supressed a swear. "I need taxi to Tea House of August Moon." he hung up the phone while the receptionist answered back. He had no patience for people that couldn't spell his name.

Kazuma left his room, and walked down. There, he sat on a couch, waiting for his transport. Eventually, a packet boy came to tell him, and he walked out. The late afternoon was pleasant, and he admired the sky before getting inside the vehicle.

So far things were going well. The woman had understood he was not boasting but could actually back up his claims. Of course he couldn't tell what was going through her head but by all appearances she seemed rather pleases do far. As she extended a hand, Ruben nodded and shook it briefly.

"You may call me Ruben if you wish."

Ruben had never been a very formal person. He could fit into the role of rich snob or street bum easily enough, but he much prefered street bum. Whilst it was true that Ruben possessed the money to walk over some of socieite's finest, he didn't. It just wasn't his style.

He couldn't help but flash a grin of his own at Holly's brilliant smile. She definitely was an attractive woman and Ruben couldn't help but note such. Of course he wouldn't allow such distractions.

"I believe I am free. Do you have any place specfically in mind?"

"Your destination is the Tea House of the August Moon?" The taxi driver confirmed before he wheeled the late model, luxuriously outfitted taxi down the hotel's drive and on to the parkway. Traffic was heavy but he proved to be a skillful driver who made his clients ride smooth and comfortable. It was barely half an hour before he was turning on to a prive street then, a mile later, turning again, down a narrow drive that wound through a parklike setting, moderately treed with poplars, ash, and decorative evergreens. At one point the road bridged a fast flowing stream.

Eventually it ended, circling back upon itself before a low bamboo fence. A tall, narrrow tori of heavily carved wood stained a deep red framed a inlaid stone path that led past the fence. A apprentice geisha, a maiko, stood in formal kimono beneath a wide, oil paper umbrella held by an older maid.

The taxi halted a short distance from the tori and the driver stepped around to open the door. Once Kazuma exited he drove off without waiting for payment. The maiko stepped forward, making a proper bow. Her glossy brunette locks were done up in a modest style, accented by a few artfully places summer blossoms. There was no effort made to hide the fact that she was caucasian, or the fact that Shimada had last seen her behind the registery desk at Hotel Royal.

"Good evening Shimada- sama. Please be welocme to our humble tea house. Tomoe-ko awaits within. Might I have the honor of escorting you to my mistress?" Robyn's japanese was fluent but not as ideomatic as Tomoe's had been earlier. However she was comfortable in her position as maiko to the famous geisha.

**********************************************

"I believe I am free. Do you have any place specfically in mind?"

"I hope to see you at my townhouse, sevenish. A few friends and I will be dining al fresco. The gardens are lovely now and the fountains keep the patio ever so cool. I'm certain you will find it most pleasant and profitable."

Not to mention that falling water kept the vast majority of most audio surveillence devices from picking up any conversations. She favored him with another smile as she slipped a card from her clutch and trapped it beneath the edge of his saucer. Then she was rising gracefully and moving briskly with out seeming to Several tables away she stopped and greeted a distinguished older gentleman with vivacous warmth.

The card, on extra heavy glossy stock read simply -Lapis

***********************************

Mercy had observed quietly, not wanting to intrude on Fortiers contact. And the passports, or some form of national identity card would certainly be needed for entry into Tanaara.

"Robert, please stop by the pharmacy. I need to pick up some items there and at the store across the way." She couldn't try and enter the country looking as she did. Her face, courtesy of her twin sister, was too familiar. It took her almost an hour to get what she needed but she was glad to find the supplies at all. The clothes were easier. Ianisle was in many aspects, backward.

"This will only take a couple of hours."

Less than the two hours she had estimated her tan was much darker, the shape of her face and eyes appeared different and her hair and eye brows a soft brunettte. Instead of her usually free flowing locks her style was now a restrained french twist. The clothes were worn subtly differently, with a heathered hue to the colors that made them more than a little mousey. Small glasses lent her a bookish air. A librarian on a rare holiday.

"What do you think?" The question was asked hesitantly.

Fortier nodded. He was dressed the way he always dressed for long flights, comfortably. A white tshirt worn under an open black button down with short sleaves, and a pair of dark fadded jeans. He had done a more than effective job of making sure that no one really knew who he was outside of Imitora.

He nodded at Mercy's disguise, "Its good," he said. He eyed her over again, for his own purposes, then grabbed the keys to the BMW. He repeated teh same drive he had earlier, with a fatter stack of cash in his the pocket of his jeans. They entered the church, and Rio handed Robert a black duffler.

"Everything you asked for. The passports are perfect, becuase they are real. Just changed the names and what not. Guns and ammo are in there, plus I tossed in an extra set of blacks. Its some good Ninja stuff man, never used before. Appearently, the cloth can stop small arms rounds, so it'll help out under the kevlar of the rigs." Fortier nodded, and handed Rio the cash.

"As agreed man. Plus, since you got it so quick, tell your boys back home they can have one of my cars, just not the Z."

"Wait," Rio said, looking at Mercy. "She changed her look, the photo I have in the passport is the old shot I got when she first came in, from the camera in the cruxifix." He pulled a digital camera out of a drawer, and quickly snapped a picture of her, and went to work. Ten minutes later, the new passport had been fixed. "Here ya go," he said, handing him the new passport. "Gracias, mi amigo." He lead them out of the church towards Robert's car, and opened the door for Mercy. "Via con dios!" he said, as the BMW pulled away.

He sighed, and removed a cell phone from his pocket. "Yeah, its Rio. Fortier said you can pull one of his cars, just not the Z."

Meanwhile, Fortier sped towards the airport, not quite sure what he was gonna do, but knowing that once he and Mercy got to Tanara, whatever it was that needed to be done would be done well.

Ruben nodded at Holly's description of the townhouse.

"Sounds great. I shall see you there."

He couldn't help but note the fountains. Ruben realised very well what their true purpose was as he had taken advantage of such things many times before. He truly was dealing with professionals and he loved it. It was about time he did business as it should be done in the real world, away from zombies and other such creatures of myth.

Ruben's eyes remained upon Holly until she had engaged in business with other possible employees or whatever their position was. Things were looking good from here on. Picking up the car, Ruben gave it a brief glance before pocketing it inside his jacket.

For now he would enjoy the rest of his coffee before returning to the hotel.

Kazuma frowned as he tried to recognize the woman before him. It was... Robyn from the Hotel? So, she worked at both places. Westerners and their weird work ethics. <Please, lead me to Himatsu-san.> In reality... Kazuma had never gotten the chance to go to a Tes Ceremony, between picking fights in the streets, being a Yakuza henchman, and trying to survive during the clan wars. Or rather, he knew very few things about it, but just enough not to make a complete clown of himself.

He allowed Robyn to lead him to Tomoe. <Why do you work two jobs?> He asked, sincerely curious.

He grinned politely at the driver, nodded once and turned his head to gaze out at the quickly whipping past landscape, “Yes, I really don’t act like much of a soldier, how very astute of you to notice but then again I suppose you wouldn’t be much of a driver otherwise. Tell me though, how good is your reckoning about how long it is to the conference?”

Unseen by the driver Gaol’s fingers flexed and curled at a point midway on his thigh, about where a holster might rest if he were standing up and then all of an instant he stopped moving completely, “What do you mean, ‘could all’s star tha’, is that perhaps a suggestion or simple advise?” His eyes had flicked on to the drivers head, almost attempting to see inside his mind with those mournful turquoise eyes.

Why do you work two jobs

Robyn kept walking, her steps properly mincing, as they followed the inset stone walk through a moss garden with a small deer knocker fountain. Politely she turned her head to him, though as was also proper, she kept her eyes down cast after the first glance. He could see the sparkle in her eyes in that brief moment, and a faint blush under the traditional make up

"It is a compromise. The Hotel Royale is owed by my family, and they wish me to join the family firm. I earned my degree this year, and this is also the last year of my apprenticeship to Tomoeko. They are very honourable, they have put me in the position I would be starting in."

Robyn lead him to a small bath house, made private by virtue of a stand of dwarf pine and bamboo.

"Shimada-sama, Tomoeko, offers you the use of our bathhouse and a massage. You can set the combination of the closet to what ever you chose, it is armoured like a stronghold vault."

Tell me though, how good is your reckoning about how long it is to the conference?”

"With the traffic the way it is I'd guess via the express way, the trip should take just under an hour." The cabbie replied

What do you mean, ‘could all’s star tha’, is that perhaps a suggestion or simple advise?”

"Well, if you aren't here for the confrence, it could be mighty boring. Last year those engineers made more trips back and forth from the confrence and the Quay than could be counted. It was good bookings that week." He smiled in the mirror.

"So if you're here for a good time, why not just stay in the Quay, instead of paying for cab fair back and forth? Lots to see and do in the Quay and closer to the race tracks too"

Mercy looked at the passports. "These will do to get us into Tanaara, but we're going to need Tanaaran identities once we're in-country. And fortunately I remembered - Have to thank your friend the good Father for inadvertantly jogging my memory- that I have one that no one should remember, and that will give me the basis to create one for you."

First class was roomy and sparsely booked. Once they were airborn she explained, speaking low. "My grades at the University were good, mostly in the low ninety's, but the one class I made hundred and a bonus was Maskirovka. The identity I had to create still exists, I had enought time to do a quick scan on it -and the 'bank account' has been building up credit for years now."

She sipped a tiny bit of the complimentary champaign and grinned wickedly.

"I hope you won't mind being my husband for a while."

OOC: Sorry, inspiration is a hard mistress

IC: Robyn seemed to have develloped a fascination of some kind, for Kazuma saw how fast she turned her eyes from him. Interesting... He wondered how he might work that to his advantage. Without getting her into serious trouble of course. He didn't enjoy the least seeing women suffer, for some reason. Likely because of what happened to his mother and sister. The memory made him clench his fists, and his face twitched for an instant.

They arrived at the bath house. "Thank you." He nodded to the maiko, and turned as he was about to enter. "Who will be massaging today? You?" He had no idea if he had broken a protocol standart about this, but he couldn't help but make an inviting grin (or a perverted grin, depending on your point of view) towards the young woman.

Robyn had caught the grimace and the clenched fist out of the corner of her eye. Her training had been most rigorous, and for a moment she feared that by some error she had angered Tomoeko's guest. However the moment passed quickly, to her hidden relief. 'Perhaps he was thinking of his sister and mother' she thought to herself. Tomoeko had shown her the dossier on him, as much as was appropriate. They desperately needed him to accept their offer...and little though it mattered, she liked him.

"Who will be massaging today? You?"

She ducked her head, but not before she caught a pleased, some what anticipatory grin flash across his face.'Oh that just lights him up!' she thought pleasedly. "If you desire, though many apologies, I do not have my formal accreditation yet. Ornaga-san is very skilled, far more so than I"

Kazuma's grin remained, even after she told Ornaga-san would be responsible for the massage. It seemed many westerners worked there. "It is true that women not from my kin can become excellent companions..." He didn't make any effort to hide his compliment. "... but it would seem the August Moon trains many westerners. Why is that?" He was, once again, truly curious.

"And..." His tone became a bit more cautious. He had been wondering for some time how did they find out about him and where he was staying. The how was half clear now, the why remained a mystery though. "... if you were responsible for letting Tomoe-san know of my arrival, I'd like to know your reasons. All this seems a bit troublesome for a 'date'." Though even if it was just a drink at the cheapest cafe, he'd accepted for her curious self.

but it would seem the August Moon trains many westerners. Why is that?"

Robyn blushed faintly at his compliment.

"Oh my apologies for not explaining thoroughly. Ornaga-san wishes to be called such. He came to Tanaara with Tomoeko. He is very famous as a massuse. It is said that his blindness makes him more attuned to what lies in the muscles. I am the only 'westerner' here and Himatsu-sama honours me greatly. Her standards are justifiably high."

Her blush became impossible to hide with his next words, anger sparkling through her, and her head came up sharply, eyes flashing

"I did not inform Himatsu-sama of your arrival, though I did verify that you took rooms at the Royale!"

"Oh! Please forgive me for speaking so!" Instantly she was on her knees and bowing, head to the stones of the walk way. Inwardly she was castigating herslef for speaking so to an honoured guest.

"Oh get up child, he has every right to be suspicious" The voice was low and fluid, the voice that Kazuma had heard on the phone that afternoon. Tomoe had approached from further along the path, her footsteps silent. A deep crimson parasol shaded her perfect features and added a luster to the bronzed gold of her kimono "Now go and see how first cook is doing." Tomoe's voice was not unkind but there was a certain subtle annoyance

"Hai, Mistress" Robyn arose and turned to leave with another bow to Kazuma, unable to meet his eyes.

Robert looked over from the book he had settled into at Mercy's words. His signature smirk spread across his face, and he smiled at her. "Well, I don't think I would mind to much. I mean, it is for the cover and all," he finished, taking a sip of red wine he had ordered from the flight attendant. He poped his neck, and leaned over, kissing Mercy briefly, and then went back to his book, watching as the ocean speed by underneath the plane.

Mercy returned the kiss happily, and waited for the next time he lifted his eyes from the book

"I didn't think you'd mind, but..." The wicked grin returned "You name is...George"

Well, she could hope that Imitora had never been hit with the 'pick it up and take it home, love on it and call it George' craze. But her own was worse, to her current thinking. But back then Aphrodite St.Cyrr, Olympic gold medalist, extreme sports champion and darling of the entire populace of Tanaara had been the rage. And she, Mercedez, had wanted so desperately to be able to even do one walk around the running track. A walk that the defective heart she had had at the time had denied her, much less the energetic dancing that was popular then at TMU formals.

Kazuma wasn't too surprised that she reacted like that. In reality, he felt like he was the one to apologize. His tongue wasn't exactly that of a gentleman, and his manners and background didn't help in the least. He turned to see the woman who said words in such a familiar voice. His instinct told him she was Himatsu Tomoe.

"Himatsu-san, correct?" He bowed middly, in what seemed more of a proloungued nod than an actual bow. He was far from his place in a Tea House... He looked over her shoulder. Robyn had left. "Please don't be harsh on your apprentice. I might've deserved her reaction, truth be told."

Time for business. "Aside from that, and as you said, I am a bit suspicious. It isn't something usual to be invited by one I only met on the phone a few hours ago, even with... No, not with a maiko to inform you." He regreted a bit to have flinged accusations at her.

Pondering the possibility of race tracks, cabs and the conference he probed further in to the drivers knowledge, “I never told you the name of the conference I was going to, what makes you so sure I’m not going to another one?”

If this driver could be relied upon perhaps it would be sensible in making it worth his while to hang around for the next few days, at least that long before he became potentially troublesome and knew more of him than was sensible for anyone to know. The conference did not sound particularly entertaining, he had no reason to really attend and as such a deep unwillingness to listen to overeducated and ignorant fools talk about matters they spent too much time reading about.

“I never told you the name of the conference I was going to, what makes you so sure I’m not going to another one?”

"Not meaning to be rude sir, but other than possibly an engineer in from the field you don't look like a man going to a confrence. You are not in a suit with a briefcase and lap top, or a heavy sales sample bag. You sure don't look like a Shriner, and there aren't any doctor conferences scheduled for a couple of months. There's a funeral director's gathering a week, but some how I don't think that's your field."

The driver shrugged. It didn't matter to him where he took his passenger, as long as it didn't involve him getting robbed.

"See, here in the Port, we drivers are an elite breed. Like I said the city is all but a maze, not like the Capitol, and so we're asked to help educate the new visitors. We can't take money from the business and such here- no paid advertiseing- but we can recommend places based on our own experiences. I've lived here since my family emmigrated when I was ten. I love this city, always something new to see and do."

Tomoe, her face free of the normal make up worn, as traditional, by lesser Geisha bowed with a small smile and replied

"Yes I am Tomoe, and please do not worry I shall not be harsh with her, though she has inbued you with heroic notions that you have not necessarily earned."

Aside from that, and as you said, I am a bit suspicious. It isn't something usual to be invited by one I only met on the phone a few hours ago, even with... No, not with a maiko to inform you

"Actually over eighty percent of the finer hotels in the city would have confirned your taking of rooms if I had asked. I knew you were coming shortly after your bought your ticket to Tanaara. Or to be comepletely factual, people who are interested in you and your future, knew."

She wasved a gentle hand towards the bath house.

"Please be assured that no one here wishes you any harm.." Her voice trailed off and she looked about her with more than a hint of determinedly hidden worry, her voice very, very soft. ..."I believe that I can account for all on the grounds."

Her voice went back to normal, a lady of the willow world, particularly one as noteable as Tomoeko, would never left forboding last long about her. That was not the way of the floating world.

"And if you still wish Robyn to attend you, please, I know she would be honoured."

She paused for a second and chose her words carefully

"There are those who believe that you have great potential, and that the Tea House and you could benefit from an association with another. But that is for discussion after relaxation."

Fortier nodded. He didn't like the name, but at this point, his like and dislike didn't really matter, the only thing that did was getting in country just fine. He closed his eyes as the play bumped through an air pocket, and sighed. Last time he had flown commercialy, he was...well...to think of it, he never had flown comercially before.

He felt sleep take over, and let himself dose out, hoping that he would have enough time to catch up on sleep before landing.

"Great potential... That is a new way to put things." He spoke in almost a mutter. "I shall go to the bathhouse then. And... Tell Robyn I would allow her to use me as a practice subject for her training in shiatsu." He half-grinned. It was indeed a great honor for her, to be chosen over what seemed a skilled man such as Ornaga.

Kazuma walked into the bathhouse, and got undressed. He put his sword, gun and clothes inside the locker, and set the 3 digit code. 532. He pretty much chose it at random. There was no need to take another bath, so he went to the communal tub.. That was empty that day. He sunk into the pleasantly hot water, and allowed himself to relax. Although keeping one eye closed and other open behind his glasses.

The gardens that surrounded the bath house were serene, low bird song sounded now and again, and the soothing notes of falling water reinforced the calm. The trees shaded the bath house leaving it in a deep puddle of cool shadow. After some time, soft human made sounds brought attention to the room at the other end of the bath house. Small noises, the quiet slide of wood on wood as a drawer was opened then closed, and the faint yellow glow of a lamp through the partially open shoji screen. Then the whisper of cloth against tatami mats as Robyn, in a simple cotton kimono knelt, framed by the open shoji. Waiting

Fortier and Mercy had to change airlines in an odd little nation called Drakia, over to the Tanaaran livieried carrier, Air Tanaa. Mercy had been a little concerned, the customs in Drakia had taken longer than expected, but they had not been detained.

The airplane was a new luxury version of the vernerable and very safe 747. No economy seats just business and first class. With many smilingly attentive attendants and cuisine that actually deserved the title. Mercy was pleased becasue the wide leather covered seats reclined into comfortable beds. And she hadn't seen the inflight movie before either.

"Well sleep head you can go back to sleep once again" She teased Rob gently. He'd been hard to wake up on the first leg of the long flight, but in just about six hours they'd be touching down in Tanaara

Less than an hour before touch down, Fortier's eyes shot open. He was now awake, and fully rested. It was an old trick he had learned in the military, to sleep for a pre determined period of time, and awake fully aware of where you were, what was going on, and fully rested. He quietly removed a device that looked similar to a portable DVD player from his bag, and attached a keyboard like instrument that would be used for a PDA. As Mercy looked on, he began typing furiously, as if trying to access a hidden file that had a time lock.

It took only five minutes, just enough time to stay out of the prying eyes of any flight attendant, and when done, he closed up the keyboard and small computer, sticking them back into the bag. He looked over at Mercy, and smiled. "Just had to confirm a reservation for a car, nothing to worry about," he said, smirking.

"And what will we be driving? A tank?" Mercy teased lightly. "I don't think my liscense covers one, and I couldn't get into the cavalary. You had to be able to pass the physical. Those things don't come in automatic."

Tanaara had plenty of companies that specialized in exotic car rentals, and knowing Fortier as she was coming to she could see them whipping about the nation in something dangerously eye catching. 'Actually it might be good cover' she thought as she finished the fresh orange juice and toasted bagel the flight attendants had offered about. The alderwood smoked salmon and dilled farmers cheese had complimnted each other perfectly.

Robert chuckled. "Don't worry hun, I got a nice, low key car picked out. Even a low key color. Its fast too. Not as fast as the plans I have for the ///M back home, but pretty damn fast. I don't think we need to worry about tails all that much."

He smiled at her, and took a swig from a bottle of water he had asked a flight attendant to bring, and tightend his seatbelt as the pilot anounced the flight would be landing shortly.

Mercy grinned at him her eyes dancing. "I knew you wouldn't get a tank, the color options are too limited" She teased further. It felt so wonderful to banter with him, but then she'd felt comfortable with him from almost the moment they'd first met.

The landing was smooth, but she noted with some misgiving, that the jetway connetcions, the expanding corridors that would hook to the plane and allow disembarcation within the comfort of the terminal, were being held up. The plane had sat at the proper spot for some mintes now. She craned her head, trying to seee through the window if there was some visible problem.

She noted the presence of armed troops and sniffer dogs, but before she could do more than mention this to Fortier, the jet ways were completely retracted and the attendants announcing that there was a problem in the terminal and that the plane would be taxing about to the next terminal for disembarcation.

Mercy glanced at Fortier with worried eyes, but he just shook his head minutely and stroked the palm of her hand slowly. Engines whined as the jumbo jet slowly reversed itself and headed around to the newer terminal nearly a mile away.

It took an additional thirty minutes, but once off the plane there were no other obvious hold ups, even through customs. Mercy could not quite bring herself calm again though. Something felt wrong, off- and she let Robert know- but she couldn't quite put her finger one what was bothering her.

He grinned a rare approval of the driver if only of the brief and tightly lipped nature, “You have certainly not missed your mark, with such talents of observation you would be better employed elsewhere, I’m surprised one of the many agencies hasn’t tried to scoop you up with the lucrative offer of travel, pensions and job satisfaction.”

The boat ride hadn’t been especially uncomfortable however the confinement that even a large ship inflicted upon its passengers had caused him to be interminably bored, now though in the back of the taxi he was beginning to feel restless and somewhat uncomfortable. Tensing up his legs in the space available he attempted to relieve some of the pent up energy in his limbs. The very idea of being a driver and having to endure such menial drives was quite distasteful to Gaol, only a few times had he worked as a conductor on the bus networks and even that had been too cramped for his tastes.

Fortier chuckled. "Don't worry hun," he said, smilling. "I've done plenty of stuff like this. You always have that feeling. No worries." He had been stretching quiet a bit, poping his nexk, and extending his arms out to stretch the musscles. This, however, was a cover, and he was using it to check for tails. Non yet, but that didn't mean they wouldn't show up.

He followed the signs, and found the car rental agency. He handed over his credentials and some cash, and was given a car key. He thanked the counter agent, and lead Mercy out into the parking lot. He walked past several very high end super cars and spot coupes, and up to, of all things, a station wagon. A black Audi station wagon. However, what set this apart from other family grocery getters was a simple badge on the rear, above the tail light. RS6. The twin turbo V8 AWD Audi was nonchalant, quiet looking, the perfect vehicle for this sort of operation.

“You have certainly not missed your mark, with such talents of observation you would be better employed elsewhere, I’m surprised one of the many agencies hasn’t tried to scoop you up with the lucrative offer of travel, pensions and job satisfaction.”

"Why thank you, but I prefer to work for myself. My wife and I are saving to buy one taxi a year. Thats where the money is, renting them out to drivers who don't want to own, just lease."

The cabbie turned on to a side street, swinging away from the express way.

"Have you eaten? I know a family run diner that makes the best seafood gumbo you can imagine, dark and spicy with crab and shirmp over rice, with homemade bread. It's just down from some of the more swinging joints, easy walking distance. There a hostel next door, plain rooms, but clean and not expensive."

***************************************

Mercy was doing her own subtle checks for tails. None yet, but she was concerned. The sight of the Audi did bring a sile to her face. It would prove a surprize to any trying to follow them, especially in Fortiers hands. The drive from the International airport into the capitol, Montguard was a scenic one, winding through richly wooded countryside.

The Tanaaran Military Academy would be their first stop and it was an hour west of the capitol. It would cauwse them to have to double back, but she needed the papers she had secreted there so many yars ago. Then she could get updated information, and make what contacts she could.

Information she had recieved while inflight, though the courtesy newspapers provided, had her worried further. The obituaries listed several people whom she knew from her agency. Systematic assassinations were being carried out, some one was out to put Intellegence out of business.

**********************************

The sun wound down from the sky, leaving the electric green blue to dominate them fade into true evening. The taxi that Ruben had arranged for deposited him out side the front courtyard of a three unit town house grouping.

Built into a hillside, each one had a modest courtyard garden of their own laid out before the front entries, once you got past the second set of security gates. The first had been at the head of the lane, when the armed guard had taken his name and contacted Ms. Golightly. The security fencing while descrete and decorative was solid enough to stop most regular vehicles.

Discrete ramps behind security gates announced that vehicles were garaged underground. The two shared walls between the units were excetptionally thick, and each unit 'faced' a different direction, and there were no other units with in several hundred feet, the nearest barely visible behind numerous large trees, and a deep stream that wound its way though the terraced valley.

The comment about renting cabs was filed away in Gaol’s mind ready to be ignored at a later date or used to his advantage, the mention of food prompted a rumble of his stomach and forced the idea of cab rental out of his mind, he grinned at the driver all the same, “Sure, lets eat something whilst we still can.”

The grin ended as abruptly as it had begun, he didn’t explain his words and didn’t leave an option for the driver to speak for he closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards.

"Sure, lets eat something whilst we still can.”

The drive wasn't very long, thirty minutes or so through the congestion of the Quay. The diner, Aunt Esther's was close to, but not within, the inner most historical zone of the Quay which was closed to vehicular traffic other than horse drawn carrriages or slow moving electric jitneys. Set in the prize corner location of the block of buildings , the restraunt had L shaped seating area. Clean and well maintained the decor was spartan, but the booth benches and the chair seats were thickly padded and very comfortable. One could smell the rich, spicey scents of the local cooking style well before the door opened.

"There you go sir. Food fit to be savored" The cabbie pulled over into a temporary spot

The gardens that surrounded the bath house were serene, low bird song sounded now and again, and the soothing notes of falling water reinforced the calm. The trees shaded the bath house leaving it in a deep puddle of cool shadow. After some time, soft human made sounds brought attention to the room at the other end of the bath house. Small noises, the quiet slide of wood on wood as a drawer was opened then closed, and the faint yellow glow of a lamp through the partially open shoji screen. Then the whisper of cloth against tatami mats as Robyn, in a simple cotton kimono knelt, framed by the open shoji. Waiting

Kazuma's ear twitched as he heard the sounds from behind him. He turned to see Robyn. He allowed himself to rest some more. The young woman would wait a bit. This reminded him of his Yakuza days... He'd spend whole afternoons sitting in seiza, the kneeling stance, during the meetings. When he got up, he could barely feel his legs. More than once, his superiors made fun of him by that fact. Alas, good at sitting or not, he outlived them...

Taking pity on the woman, he stood up, the yakuza tattoo on his back diverting the interest from his pudent parts. "I would appreciate a towel." He turned his face to the maiko. His sunglasses were covered in steam... "Oh, and something to clean these as well."

The taxi that Ruben had arranged for deposited him out side the front courtyard of a three unit town house grouping.

Ruben took in every detail as he passed through the security gates and made his way to the entrance proper. Judging by the well maintained gardens and building Ruben assumed his host was quite well off, yet that didn't really surprise him. She had the calm confidence of someone that knew exactly what they wanted and how to go about getting it without causing anymore notice than was necessary.

Whilst Ruben could also make a claim to wealth, he never displayed it. He owned a small apartment back in Diamond City, Assington that was quite modest in his opinion. He had no purpose in allowing others to realise he was in possession of many millions of dollars or whatever given currency. Money attracted attention and Ruben disliked attention.

Stepping forward to knock on the large oak door, Ruben found it was unnecessary as a butler opened the door and greeted him. Replying with a nod, Ruben allowed himself to be guided through the luxurious townhouse and into the fine garden where a number of guests were gathered.

He couldn't help but smile to himself slightly as he gazed upon the other guests. Perhaps he was a little under dressed with his long white shirt, lacking a tie and his casual sports jacket with matching black pants, yet it was not too noticable. In his opinion such things as dressing in expensive and formal clothes was quite pointless and merely another idiotic trend of most societies.

Now that he was here, Ruben would be content to watch.

"Hai, Shimada-sama" Robyn's voice was low but clear, and she stood easily, moving out of sight, returning with thick towels. Atop them, at a decorative angle, lay a checkered print cotton handkerchief, soft from many washings, and lint free. She stepped through the partially open shoji, with small graceful movements, going to her knees and presenting the stack of towels to Kazuma. Her gaze seeing nothing that interupted privacy.

When he had taken the towels and made himself comfortable, she gestured to the massage room, and stood, politely waiting for Kazuma, as the guest, to proceed her. A thick quilt covered a high, just yielding enough futon, and oils, both scented and unscented laid a faint, pleasantly masculine scent in the gentle air currents. While Kazuma settled himself on the futon, she tied back the sleeves of her kimono.

"Would Shimada-sama prefer scented or unscented oil?" Robyn inquired, then took the delicate porcelain containers off of the warmer and poured a small amount in her hands. Carefully she began at the back of his neck, just at the base of his hairline. Strong, soft skinned hands began to seek out and ease any tension left in his muscles. The maiko might not have much experience yet, but her teachers were most strict. Thorough and intuitive, she is also not afraid to use her strength to work down to the deeper muscles.

"Unscented." Kazuma answered. He, in truth, hadn't received many such treatments, and still favoured the simpler pleasures of the massage. He allowed himself to relax as the maiko massaged him. Her training indeed made up for her lack of experience. He allowed himself a sketch of a smile as he felt her hands. It was as close as they'd get today, though. Maybe some other time...

He shrugged off those useless thoughts. Age wasn't making him any less of a lady lover. "Robyn..." He mumbled. "Back then, at the bathhouse entrance... How did I upset you?" He was going to try and patch things up, if necessary.

Robyn hesitated for a long second. Tomoe had given her permisssion to speak with a freedom all but unheard of, but these were distraught times. Her voice was low

"Plese forgive me Shimada-sama, I should not have gotten angry with you." And she began to explain, while her hands enjoyed soothing his muscles

"Tomoeko honoured me greatly by letting me peruse the dossiers of various canidates with her, advise her....We have been so frightened of late, there are dark things creeping about and then our guardian was slain, murdered, though those who did it made it look like an accident." She hoped that he would understand that this was far more than simple thuggery

"We knew that we could trust no one locally, so Himatsu-san used the last of her contacts to ask them for a recommendation of some one who might be travelling, and perhaps willing to accept the post."

Hesitating a second she blushed, and was glad he couldn't see it "I am..." She struggled with the words, trying to find the right ones, her blush deepening, hands going still against his lower back "We looked at dozens of dossiers, and I kept coming back to yours...oh this is far more important than a date...I will be trusting you with my life." She wanted to say more, but she just knew he wouldn't be interested in...who would with Tomoeko's flawless self about.

The distant toll of a temple bell, deep and resonant, brought her head up "Oh Kazuma, the other guests are here. These are good men, important people" She whispered "If you wish there are formal kimono's for you to chose from, and Tomoeko has allowed that you may have the honor of bearing your weapons. She..she approves of you. She is so very skilled at discerning character."

Dipping into his pocket it came back with a very small crumble of bills and loose change, no sense showing off wealth, and in a scene of pure theatrics he counted out every coin until he’d reached a total, only grudgingly afterwards did he had a moderate tip, “If we meet again I’ll be sure to give you my commentary on the food, one thing I must let you know now is that I’m not an engineer in the way you think.”

Flicking the door open as he spoke he ducked in to the cab quickly, “I’m a designer in case you were wondering, one who likes to listen.” With that partying remark he strode into the interestingly decorated building and enjoyed the aroma of the cooking.

Fortier piloted the Audi expertly, taking his time through the turns, and hitting the highway with a level of civility. He wasn't about to draw attention to himself with his driving quite yet. Instead, from the outside, he and Mercy looked like a nice young couple on a liesurly drive.

As they neared the campus for the Tanaran Military Academy, Fortier tightend up visually. He slowly pushed himself back into his seat, letting the leather grip him tightly, and he adjusted his rearview.

"Not to worry you too much babe," he said, downshifting, the note of the engine changing to a deeper purr, with a light whistle in the back, "but we have a Benz on us. AMG, looks like a C55. Black, figures," he said. He used a button to adjust the rear view mirror on Mercy's door. "Check it out, what do you think? He's been there since the first off ramp."

i]Mercy looked intently at the powerful, heavy sedan following then. The liscense plate...yes the number and lettering pattern was not random, but specific to her agency- Tanaran Intellegence Department. However there could be many reasons, especially as the Tanaran Military Academy was home to far more than just a first rate university.[/i]

However it was the deep green Hummer just behind the german import that concerned her. Those were custom painted for Emerald Industries, and they and the ID were ancient, implacable enemies

Coincidence, perhaps, but "Rob, there's an Emerald Industries armored and upgraded Hummer back there as well, and that is considerably worrisome. They tend to work in packs, and they're armed with concealed weapons so the reports say."

And while now was not the moment to give Fortier a history lesson, she would as soon as she could.

**************************

The Taxi driver watched his passenger make a production out of counting out fare and a tip. He smiled politely while memorizing the mans features and dress. That his passenger was a designer was highly doubtful. He'd put a cautionary out on him once he'd left.

"Good afternoon sir." A college age waitress in a cheerful uniform, strode over, menue's in hand. Her slighly lopsided smile and thick brunette hair marked her as one of the many family members framed in pictures dating back to dauegrotype days "Welcome to Aunt Esthers, and would you care for a booth or a table? It's the sleepy time so both are available."

********************************

Holly came over to Ruben before he'd watched for too long. Her smile was welcoming as she held out both hands to him "Ruben, I'm so glad you came. Let me introduce you to every one. Would you care for something to drink?"

She was handling the situation with gracious aplomb. The comfortable double hand clasp that put him as a member of her circle, offering a chance to hug but without expecting the intimacy. She began to gently guide him over to the nearest group, for the more personal form of introductions to the group -far better than the idiotcy of having him stand there like a art work on display and the "Every one this is...". The white coat clad waitstaff intercepted them unobtrousively to take Rubens order

Eyes were watching him but with genuine interest, and a causal politness that spoke far more than just monetary wealth. This was the power side of the equation

Robert noted the Hummer in the rearview. It was hard not to. "Work in teams, eh?" he asked, his hand moving to the stick, tossing it around a bit, then letting it settle, his foot comming off the clutch. He waited till he cleared a turn, watching a family in a small SUV fall back behind them, before he dropped another gear, the turbos wailing as they spooled up, creating larger amounts off boost.

However, this was not a sound that would be heard by the large SUV as it fell back quickly, its heavy wieght and brick like aerodynamics keeping it from presenting any threat to the Audi.

The Mercedes, on the other hand, was a different story. The C55 AMG was a beast of a car, powered by a monsterously tourqey supercharged V8. Obvious modifications to the car allowed it to hold with the faster Audi. Fortier swore to himself quietly, wishing now that he was in one of his own cars, one that he had put blood and flesh into, one that he knew down to the wheels. However, this wasn't a perfect world, and the chances of that happening in any form were nil to none. Still, he had one thing most lacked: skill.

He powered the Audi up a shallow bend, the AWD system holding the car on the perfect inside line as he flew past another green Hummer, this one swerving, trying to block him, but the driver reacted poorly, sending the SUV into a treeline. The Mercedes dodged, and came up fast, its own forced induced motor screaming. Fortier downshifted as he let off on the gas, swinging the tail end of the car around, and sending out a ball of flame as the mixture ran rich, and unburnt fuel shot down the exhaust pipe, only to be ignited by the heat. He cut back, the tires squealing as he powerd through a downhill turn, the Merceds slowly starting to lose its hold on the Audi. The AWD and superior suspension of the Audi, tuned for a sporty ride, held the car nicely.

Fortier shifted again, this time hitting the boost mark on the opening of a straight stretch, and flooring it. The bi turbo V8 roared, and the car shot down the open straight, however, not all was well. As the Adui cleared the century and a quarter mark, the Mercedes began to catch up. Fortier had let off when he noticed that both lanes of the one lane each way road were blocked by Hummers. "Christ, these guys are good," he swore, and looked up, noticing the Mercedes catching up.

"Hold on," he said, and the Audi began to slow more. The motor was making a straining noise, and Fortier quickly doubled down, the motor now screaming in protest as he held it just above redline, and the Mercedes quickly enlarged in his rearview mirror, the Audi still barreling down on the Hummer. He popped the clutch, and cranked the wheel out, then back in moments before impacting the Hummer, sending the Audi sideways into the breakdown lane. The Mercedes, however, was not so lucky, and travling at one hundred and ten miles per hour, it slammed violently into the large truck, pushing it back, almost into the Audi.

Fortier, however, was back on the gas, and had the wheel turned back in, dropping down into first, the tires wailing in protest as he drifted around the roadblock, and punched it, this time rocketing away towards the direction he came. He threw the Audi through the turns, using the breaks only when absolutely needed. The car picked up speed, qucikly closing on 130 in the twisty mountain pass, Robert expertly holding the line he had set. At 150, he let off, noting that he was comming up on a steep downhill blind turn in, and let the Audi slowly slide in towards the road's outer barrier.

He was forced to quickly counter away when another Hummer nearly barreld into him. A fifth was blocking off the other lane, as one moved slowly in the same lane Fortier was using. He dubled down, and slammed on the breaks, the Audi comming to a stop. He slammed the car into reverse, and cranked the wheel far over to the right, matting the petal to the floor, and sending the Audi screaming in a near crab walk hard to the right, fliping around to face the other direction.

By now the EI Hummer was comming straight at the Audi, and Fortier floored it, diving into the outer breakdown lane, and as the Hummer turned to ram, He flipped the wheel back over, the Audi pulling away, the Hummer flying through the breakdown lane, and out over the cliff, falling to the rocks below. The Hummer that had been blocking the oncomming lane was now barreling down on Fortier, and he repeated his early manuver, spinning the Audi around, and flooring it off away from the truck. He passed the other, and was soon screaming down a set of light, shallow switch backs, nearing 175mph, leaving the massive trucks behind him. When he felt he had enough breathing room between him and the EI vehicles, he let off, and slowly the Audi began to decelerate.

Twenty minutes later, he was pulling onto the Academy campus. "Well," he said, looking over at Mercy, "where to?"

Kazuma laughed silently. "I'm not someone with the finest character. No, I stray far from it." He got up, the massage finished. Wrapping the towel around his waist he turned to Robyn. "I'm a hitman. Before that, I was a Yakuza, and before that a high school delinquent. There's nothing heroic about me." He cupped her chin in his fingers and gently made her face rise, so that he could look into her eyes behind the cover of the glasses. "Don't fall for things that reek of blood." He turned around, and went to get dressed in his kimono. "Although..." He stopped for a moment in his tracks. "Perhaps dealing with these dark things that frighten you might be my redemption. After that, we'll see what happens." Inside him, he had already decided he enjoyed her company. Robyn made him feel somehow relaxed.

Kazuma chose a simple classic black kimono. It was really plain in appearance, but that was intentional. He went back to the locker, and picked up his sword and gun. The katana stood on his left hip, supported by the hakama's belt. As for the gun, he dressed up its holster under the kimono, ready to draw the firearm if anything happened. "I am ready. Please lead me to them." He told Robyn.

She had trembled ever so faintly, when he had touched her, wanting with a force that astonished her, for him to kiss her. She was too bemused to blush. "Don't fall for things that reek of blood." Oh she already had, but for a man that reeked of potential, for a man who's dossier had said that he'd never been cruel, never been abusive. A man who had no idea how thorough a Tanaaran Intellegnce Department Dossier could be.

While Kazuma had changed so had Robyn. She now wore a more formal kimono herself but short of full formality, and her make up was of the simplest style.

"I am ready. Please lead me to them."

"I would be honoured Shimada-sama." She bowed deeply, and if the look in her eyes was not utter adoration, it was close enough.

"Well," he said, looking over at Mercy, "where to?"

Mercy hadn't uttered so much as a squeek during the hair raising driving Fortier had just pulled off so perfectly. She'd gone pale as milk a few times and bitten her lip as many. But now she just shook her head and tossed her head back with a wild grin.

"I ought to say to bed..." she twitched her nose at him and a frisson ran up and down her body, but she disciplined herself sternly and pointed to a smaller roadway that broke off to the left of the main drive, well before the security gates.

"Take that , we'll go to the park that backs up to part of the campus. There a parking lot there that is not very visable from the air, and I can cross onto the grounds from there. It's also the closest area to where I need to go."

Soon they were in an empty parking lot mostly hidden under large speading oaks, from which a 'nature walk' style pathway and several picnick tables could be seen. Mercy gave Rob a soft promissory kiss before she slid out of the Audi and set off down the tanbark path. She hoped that the Emerald Industries team had not called in air support.

They were fairly well hidden from sighting by a helicopter, the trees were very thick. And their attack, for it was nothing else confirmed her suspicions. Though why Emerald ws being so blatant had her confused. Subtle wasn't just their middle, it was first and last as well.

"Rob it will take me at least thirty minutes to get to the spot. If you have to leave DO SO! Don't get cornered here." Mercy grabbed the cel phone from her purse- for while it was compromised she would be willing to risk a short emergency contact on it.

Holly came over to Ruben before he'd watched for too long.

Ruben gave Holly a brief smile and nod of greeting as she approached in her eloquent manner. She certainly played the role of upper class woman quite well yet Ruben knew very well there was much more to her. If anyone had half a brain there was always more to them than could be discerned upon brief glances.

"Good day Holly, it's good to be here."

As if by sheer wish, a waiter appeared after Holly's asked about a drink and promptly took Ruben's order for a glass of scotch. It would be unlikely that he would drink much of it as he always prefered to stay sharp, yet at least he would appear to be drinking and enjoying himself.

Ruben began shaking hands and nodding in greeting as Holly introduced him to various people of a similar nature.

Glancing over the waitress he gave her an equally lopsided smile that was balanced precariously on his face, “Afternoon, I hope the cooks aren’t getting sleepy as well but just in case I’d better have a booth in case I fall asleep waiting for them.” He looked past her to a booth and flicked his eyebrows up to question if that was a booth he could sit at, you could never tell with locals even in the tourist areas of cities.

Because before you knew it there’d be a dozen hard cases breaking you open for sitting where an old buddy of theirs always sat, he knew that was a fact because he’d done so himself when a stranger dropped by, not that many tourists visited the Communities. Unless you classified a tourist as someone who came by, died and left in the space of a day. The taxi driver’s face came to mind as he’d looked at the waitress, nothing similar about them in the least, perhaps it was the look in their eyes that was so different he couldn’t fail to notice the keenness the driver had displayed behind rather relaxed features.

“Afternoon, I hope the cooks aren’t getting sleepy as well but just in case I’d better have a booth in case I fall asleep waiting for them.”

The young woman followed his gaze to the booth he was interested in and nodded "Oh yes that ones available." And she led him directly there, handing him a menu. The menu was simple, a well done but not professional computer print out in a thick plastic holder

"What would you like to drink? She inquired as she made sure that there were plenty of napkins besides the roll of utensils. It could also be noted that there were a pair of chopsticks in a colorful wrapper next to the roll of western style utensils.

There were only four other patrons in the diner. An older couple who were leisurely partaking of strong coffee and tiny cinnamon sugar covered donut puffs, and two single men both in tables near the back, both engrossed in reading material and plates of steaming food. Their backs were to the front of the restraunt, and little could be determined besides the fact that they both had short dark hair.

He grinned. Such a bow was indeed a first. Back in his homeland, he only bowed like that, and without retribution. "Well, let's go then." Kazuma felt comfortable around the woman. He admired the Tea House's layout as he walked towards the room where the guests were. It reminded him of the few occasions meetings took place in buldings with improvised traditional accomodations. Indeed, he was enjoying his trip to Tanaara.

They arrived. Tomoe and six other men were sitting on a medium-sized room. It was covered in tatami, and trays with delicate food in small quantities were lain before them. The ceremony had begun not long ago. "Please forgive my delay." He bowed apologetically. "I'm Shimada Kazuma." He presented himself to the people there. Four were japanese men, two were not. He walked to the space where stood a free tray, incidentally to the left of Tomoe. The other guests looked in awe at his katana. Kazuma grinned. "Rest assured, this sword is tame, and won't attack unless provoked."

*bump*

Sitting down on the comfortable bench of the booth he eased himself into the back, the usual accompaniments of restaurants were present although the inclusion of chopsticks did seem somewhat out of place considering the apparent theme of the food. Irrespective of that minor oddity he glanced at the waitress easily, “Sparkling water, no ice please” Turning down to glance over the menu he examined each option, paused to consider its relative merits and eventually placed the menu on the table and looked up to see the waitress had returned with his water and a small bottle, unopened.

Smiling pleasantly, “Is there anything you could recommend, something filling and simple perhaps?”

“Is there anything you could recommend, something filling and simple perhaps?”

"I'd suggest our Seafood gumbo over rice, with cornbread and slice of pie for desert, or perhaps Orange beef over crispy noodles" The waitress replied with a smile. "It's not on the menu, but we make up a small amount of the sauce every day. It's very hot though I must warn you."

*********************************

"Rest assured, this sword is tame, and won't attack unless provoked."

"Of course it will not and of course you are forgiven. I am honoured that you lingered enjoying the serenity of the Teahouse." Tomoeko spoke in traditional fashion, but her sincerity was unmistakable. "Kiri, bring Shimada-sama a weapons rack." She ordered one of the maids, who promptly bowed and hurried to bring one to Shimada's so he could place them properly by his side.

Robyn knelt just behind and slightly to the side of Tomoeko so she could observe and learn. Behind her mask of make up she glowed with pride that her choice of canididate was the one certain to pass inspection. None of the others intervied had gottn even half this far, much less been allowed their weapons.

Graciously Tomoeko began a warm semi formal introduction of the six gentlemen. As Kazuma had observed four were of Japanese extraction, and two were caucasian. It was interesting to note that only two of the Japanese heritage wore kimonos, and one of the westerners did. The other three wore western fashion. However all seemed very comfortable in this setting, and in each others company. The youngest was in his mid forties one might guess, the oldest maybe a vigorous late sixties. All were of the well groomed and healthy state that bespoke comfortable wealth and power.

Mercy headed off along the nature walk for the first stretch, as it did go in roughly the direction she needed. There was an old gate set into the high wall surrounding the University, on that for various reasons, Security could never keep working sensors. Few knew of it's existance, but those that did used it for various clandestine reasons. Or so they thought they were clandestine, but that was of no matter. Mercy knew how to truly render it unsecured.

Eventually she was forced to leave the tanbark pathway and enter a barely visible side trail that twisted and turned for some distance. The scenery had changed some over the yers, however she was most relieved to see that the massive oak that grew near the wall still stood. Her trousers would be a mess afterwards but that did not stop her from shimmying agilly up its trunk to a limb that barely cleared the gate.

*************************************

Introductions were proceeding apace when the the first tremors of distrubanc in the teahouse's was could be felt. Female voices, attemtpting to maintain a civilised hush were being overridden by a male voice that while not shouting or rude, was firmly overriding the maids objections.

Tomoeko barely has to tilt her head before her maiko was rising and moving gracefully towards the shoji door. Robyns back was rigid with anger, though perhaps only Kazuma could see that subtle difference. The guests were being too civilized to pay any 'attention' to the disturbance but Kazuma could see recognition of the voice, and deeply concealed distaste on their faces.

Before Robyn could get to the door it was being pulled open by a tall caucasian man of maybe some seventy years.

"Why Robyn, is this your erigae? I wasn't invited to your mizuage?" His tone was jovial, but his choice of words, mocking

Kazuma forced himself to remain calm, as the maids protested and the man did as he pleased. It was an old trick... Keep yourself calm, let the anger build up subconsciously. When push came to shove, he'd be fighting with his all. Robyn went to open the shoji door. Kazuma felt worried about the proximity with the person entering the room. "Robyn, back off." He said unchalantly, not wanting to risk anything.

He examined the old man before him. "Who the fuck are you?" He asked straight out, putting his feet in position to jump to action at any moment, and his hand prepared to grab the katana from the rack.

Robyn turned ever so slightly aside, taking two steps back as she did so. Tomoeko and the other guests had risen as they observed, and obviously knew, the intruder. The older gentleman was very expensively and conservatively dressed, greying hair perfectly coiffed, nails perfectly manicured. He ignored Kazuma completely, giving Robyn a broad wink and then turning to Tomoeko with an air of expectation.

"Edward Allen Price-Sama, please our humble teahouse is most honoured to have you visit!" Tomoeko's voice fluted with all the delight, and disemblance, that any geisha would be proud to command.

"Robyn, please show Shimada-san out." Tomoeko turned to look directly at Kazuma, using him to block her from Price's eyes. Her eyes were full of fear and warning. "Shimada-san thank you for the demonstration earlier, and I am so sorry that you can not stay. Perhaps when you have more time some day." She made a polite, if minimal bow, then turned her attention back to Price, moving around the opposite side of the table from Kazuma, to greet the new arrival more personally.

Kazuma had taken an instant disliking to the new comer. To ignore him... What insolence! Even by the former yakuza's standarts, his rudeness was something to be punished in death. Although, his employer seemed not to want to threaten him. Just as well, he'd have plenty of time to plan his death. At least, now he had something to do during the slow moments of the day.

He and Robyn walked out of the room. They went silently about, until they arrived at a small zen garden inside the tea house. It had many well-trimmed native japanese trees, lanterns on strategic points, and an indoor stream, that divided the garden in half, and could be crossed by a bridge. Seeking to calm down, Kazuma motioned for Robyn to come with him, as he walked the small path of the garden. "Who was that person?" He asked.

Robyn took a deep breath of the silence and peace that filled the small zen garden, and the eyes she turned to Kazuma were only the tiniest bit bright with anger. She bowed to him, her voice peaceful, letting everything go but thoughts of pleaseing a guest, this guest in particular. At this moment in time, in this place, she was a lady of the Floating World, and all else was unimportant.

"Ah, so sorry Shimada-sama, that is my fault for not making proper introductions. He is a most formidible daimyo, Edward Allen Price-sama, CEO of Emerald Industries. A most important fief, holdings most fit for he who would be Shogun."

Then she was whirling at a distant but nearing sound, one never meant to be heard in the hallowed quietitude of a TeaHouse. The rapid but controlled bursts of a SMG, most likely a MP 5 or 10 or an Ingram, in full auto.

"What!" It wasn't loud but her utter shock invested the one word with horror. Her head swung about as if visually confirming a memory and then she was grabbing for Kazuma's hand "Hurry"

Robert watched as Mercy started off in the oh so familiar operator trot. Faster than a walk, slower than a run, just the right speed to get you where you were going in time, give youroom to think, but fast enough to act. However, he had another thing on his mind. He popped his head out the window, then looked over across the car, then back in the rearview and foud it. Perfect he thought, shifting into reverse, and backing the car into a parking spot.

The spot itself was one of those misplaced spots, with no spots next to it, surounded on all three sides by trees. He slowly backed into it, letting the car slide rearwords till he felt the rear wheels touch concreete, and killed the ignition. He reached into the back seat, and grabed the bag full of his so called Ninja gear. In Urban CT/HRT operations, his unit had worn the ever popular tactical black get up, and full face gas masks with CW Hoods. The look had promted one operator to dub it the Ninja gear, and the name stuck. Making sure he had everything, he grabed out the modified Berreta, and placed it on his lap, and waited for Mercy to come back.

Kazuma's instincts snapped, as he heard the familiar sound of sub-machine guns. His left hand went for the katana at his waist, the thumb pushing the blade only so slightly, as to be ready to jump to action at any given moment. Robyn grabbed his hand, and ran towards the source of the gunfire. It seemed the daimyo was not above using treachery after all. And he needed to defend his own daimyo, although it might be too late.

As they ran through the path leading back to the room, a pair of armed men appeared in front of them. Kazuma wrapped his arms around the maiko, and dove into the shoji screen to their left, reaching for his gun in the process. He breakfell, and drew the gun, shooting one of them in the head. The other took aim, and opened fire. Kazuma jumped to the side, but a pair of bullets grasped his flank. He fired in mid-flight, taking care of the second foe. Only a bit injured, he got up, and would've told Robyn to follow him if he didn't know better. "Search for a safe place to hide, I'll take care of the rest."

"I was heading us for the nearest!" Robyn sanpped as she rolled agilly to her feet, leaving a trail of blood from one upper arm. She ignored her arm save for a pained glance and one handed she began to tear off the confining kimonos while she looked to see which room they'd landed in.

"He won't kill her. His competetors maybe. Good, the crane room...here.." She ran over to a small decorative pannel and slid it aside after keying a pattern in the carving.

"And thank you Kazuma..you are very fast...and injured. Come " The miniaturized console read her retina and a narrow opening appeared, opening to a short, thoroughly modern appearing corridor filled with stairs going sharply down

"Hurry" She wanted the escape hatch rehidden as quickly as possible. "Tomoe will get to one of the hidden ways as quickly as she can." She was all brisk business.

***************************************

Mercy scooted out the broad limb and after some carefull looking found that the old 'dead zone' still existed- where the was an ever so small lapse in sensor coverage. Cautiously she swung herself out and into the small space, landing lightly.

The roar of powerful motors, with the added excitement of the thump of copter blades sounded faintly through the thick woods surrounding the small parking lot.

*****************************************

The evening was progessing well and the company was congenial. Holly made sure that Ruben was introduced to every one there. Comversations were discretely muffled, if not out right foiled by the various waterfalls, fountains and the quite sounds of late in the day insect life. That calm was shattered however when the gentleman that had just been introduced to Ruben, as Mr. Proctor, head exploded. Messily.

Ruben had been politely engaging in conversation regarding the recent murder of the Assingtonian President and the social consequences of such with an intelligent young lady and a man he'd just been introduced to. The pair didn't know much about Assingtonian life and so Ruben had obliged their requests to inform them of recent events and such things. Of course that was rudely interrupted when one third of their conversation just had his head blown apart.

Silence fell over the group as Ruben's and the young woman's faces were splattered in blood and brain matter. Ruben merely blinked the blood out of his eyes as he gazed upon the body before him. He didn't particularly care that he was covered in the life blood of a man he'd been talking to, yet the why was definitely nagging him.

People don't get killed in public like this unless a point is to be made and so he would only wonder, what was the point. Grabbing a few napkins, Ruben began wiping his face clean as the others started at him. Perhaps Holly could explain things.

As he wiped himself down, Ruben searched around the group of people, looking for the familiar face of Holly.

It was only seconds but time can stretch infinitely

The rolling thunder of a high calibur sniper rifle rumbled over the secluded valley setting and people began to scream as they came out of their utter shock. Now, another fell, this time on the other side of the wide patio terrace and female, dropped, her head equally demolished.

Some of the guests scrambled in panicked circles, others crouching beneath the low stone wall, behind planters and what ever other cover ws close at hand. The young woman, Helen, with whom Ruben had been conversing had done so moments after her companions head had disintegrated.

Holly's voice could be heard from behind an extremely large potted tree

"Every one get down! Andres...Andres! Where is Security!?"

Noting that this shooter had no intention of leaving in the immediate future, Ruben figured it probably would be best to take cover. He doubted the shooter was intending to blow his head apart, yet mistakes could happen or he could be wrong.

Diving to his left, Ruben placed his back against the wall, whilst the rest of his body sat snugly behind a fountain, hopefully covering himself from the eyes of the shooter.

It was now a matter of waiting, hopefully the so called security would take care of things.

Fortier was watching a few small birds dive and swoop, when he heard the noise in the distance. He looked towards the end of the lot, noticing two black Mercede's pulling up the drive. His mind went into self defense mode, and he reached into the back, pulling a black, cane like object out. He exited the car slowly, and leaned very lightly on the cane.

He walked around to the front, and kicked off the liscense plate discretely, and shoved it with his foot far under the car. He leaned gently back on the hood as the first of the black German powerhouses pulled up, and nodded politely. A man exited the first, and stared Fortier right in the eyes.

"Anything I can do for you, sir?" he asked, polietly.

Kazuma was impressed as Robyn revealled the location of a hideout. Very ingenious indeed. He stole one of his enemies' guns, and a few smoke grenades looted from the nearest corpse as well, before rushing after her. They ran into the underground hideout, the entrance somehow resembling that of a 007 movie. "You're hurt. When I have the tools, I'll patch you up." Right now, Robyn's injury was what worried Kazuma the most, followed by his employer's safety, and how he would do to defeat the strongest "daimyo" of the city.

They eventually stopped going down, and a set of corridors appeared before them. The sleek design of before had faded a bit, rather giving room for efficiency. It was almost like there was a bunker under the TeaHouse. "Where to?"

The recognition showing in the agents eyes was clearer and sooner indication than any attempt to go for his weapon.

*************************************

Mercy kept her body to the oak as she edged around it. There was minimal space between the massive bole of the ancient tree and the rough plyon of stone that buttressed the wall at that point. She went to her knees and started to tear at the damp earth and ground cover that that hid a tiny grottoed seep spring that nestled deep in the oaks root system. It took some determined digging to get down to it. Dirt and leafe mold had accumulated greatly over the years, but she won out and soon was wiggling a small Ball canning jar loose from it s miring in the bottom of the spring. It was opaque with age and filth encrusted over it, but as far as she could tell was still dry within,

The hidden door slid shut after Kazuma and Robyn had passed, and she pasued to key a code in on a pannel beside the door. Once she had done so additional layers slid into place, barriacadeing it further.

"Where to?"

"The control center." Robyn replied as she headed brisky down the right hand corridor. "We'll have the best chance of contacting another base from there, and of course monitoring the teahouse."

As the first agent approached, Fortier pushed himself up to a full standing position. He walked forward, slowly, using the black cane like object just as that, a cane. The agent slowly let his hand fall to his side arm, as did the other, and Fortier just smiled. "C'mon guys, no need for violence."

One reached out, quickly, and grabed the bottom half of the staff. "Sir, I'm gonna need your cane," he said, giving it a slight tug.

"Bad idea," Fortier replied, and no less than a second later, the first agent lay on the ground, dead, his throat sliced wide open. The lower three quarters of the cane had given away, and Robert now held the hilt of a Zaotochi sword, a straigh edged Katana used durring the Meiji period by Samurai to hide thier swords. However, Fortier used it more like a ninjaken than a katana, holding it back and at an off angle, swinging at another agent. His throat too opened, and Fortier moved in on the third.

The agent dove forward, and Fortier side stepped, driving the straight blade up, hard into the man's chest. He dropped, and Fortier grabbed the sheath, sliding the sword into it, and tossed it into the back seat of the Audi. He jumped in the car, and keyed the ignition, letting out a long, hard rev to let Mercy know, if she could hear it, to hurry up. He pulled out of the space, and pointed towards the exit, ready to go if anyone else came in.

Contacting another...? Kazuma was beginning to wonder if just who his contractor was. Even if the underground base served its purpose, as could be seen right now, it couldn't be something new, constructed solely for the case Price's goons decided to attack... Could it?

They ran along the corridor. "Control center... This isn't just a teahouse, is it?" He was being kept out of things... And he hated being kept out of things.

Nodding in agreement Gaol slipped his bag into the bag beside him and opened it up to remove a simple, if fairly battered laptop computer and proceeded to set it up on the table, leaving a space for any food. He also produced a flexible piece of clear plastic, stretching it out to remove the kinks he placed it over the screen. Then leaning to the left and right he checked that only from his position could the screen be seen, anyone else would see only a black screen.

Satisfied he began checking multiple email accounts, message boards and establishing a few new virtual identities, including one on a local forum regarding intelligence activity. After briefly perusing the sites contents without concern his interest moved around the restaurant easily.

The waitress waited several seconds for her leates customer to indicate which of the two suggestions he wanted. When he didn't, she decided he was a gumbo man and was soon returning with a large bowl of steaming dark gumbo, rich with fish, shrimp, and crab hiding a mound of fluffy white rice. The thick stew was reldolent with garlic, file gumbo, okra, tomatoes and onions. A plate piled high with fresh from the oven cornbread accompanied the bowl.

"There you go, enjoy some of the finest gumbo on the entire coast. And let me get you a refil on that tea."

************************************

"Control center... This isn't just a teahouse, is it?"

Robyn snorted, as she hurried along. "What gives you that idea." She looked at him, worry evident. "Sorry, we...we didn't expect this to happen, not so openly, not so soon. Oh it's a tea house, the finest in the nation, but it's also the cover for one of our intell control centers. My degree is from the Tanaaran Military Academy, majoring in Intellegence." She stopped before what looked to be a dead end, and tried to climb the ladder mounted on the wall to her left, but her wounded arm wouldn't let her. The bleeding had resumed, coating her arm liberally.

"Kazuma, would you brace me? The tile I need to get to is two rungs up." Her voice was thick with unshed tears.

***********************************

Mercy heard the distant rev, and knew that it was from Rob. She carefully retraced her scootch around the oakes trunk and shimmied up the tree, the jar stuffed down her shirt.

Then she, far more clearly, heard first one Mercedes, then the other, become expanding balls of fire and fury, as one after the other the two expensive sedans blew up.

The whump thump of the helicoper that had faded in the distance was louder by the time she made it out of the tree and back to the other side of the wall. The twin fireballs had attracted it's attention, and that of others besides.

Kazuma was feeling his trust betrayed. So, the Tanaran Military had shown interest in him. Big deal, he had worked for governamental institutions every now and then. Why on hell did they put up such an act? This even seemed like an enjoyable assignment. When suicide missions become enjoyable, at least. "First of all, answers. I'd like to know why that Price guy's being chased after by the military. And also why you don't just drop a bomb at his office and cut the crap." Politics never were Kazuma's strong point. A hitman needs only a target, after all.

He heard an unnerving voice in his head. His conscience had suddenly decided to return from a long vacation, just to bother him. He placed himself between Robyn and the stairs, and crouched. "Hop on my back, and wrap your arm around my neck. You can answer as we go up."

I'd like to know why that Price guy's being chased after by the military. And also why you don't just drop a bomb at his office and cut the crap."

"The military isn't after Emerald, or Price as far as I know. The miliatry and the Mega Corps are more often in bed with one another than at each other's throats...Oh, I'm not military, I'm Intellegence. It's just that TMA is the only university that offers a degree specifically in Intell."

"Hop on my back, and wrap your arm around my neck. You can answer as we go up."

Carefully Robyn climbed on to Kazuma's back her arm going around his neck, place so as not to impare his breathing

"Emerald and The Mega Corps have tried for about twenty years now to take power, generally though political, legitamate moves. We've managed to frustrate them so far, without it coming to open warfare. But they're up to something, I don't know what, I'm too low on the totem pole for all the details. They, it had to be them, killed our- the Teahouse's, security chief. We couldn't recruite some one 'in country', too great a chance for them to be a plant, or compromised. But our contacts suggested you, along with others. Tomoe was going to offer you the position tonight, after she'd introduced you to our supporters."

Her hand was unsteady as she reached out to the tile, silently greatful that Kazuma had gone up three rungs not just two. The trip points were pressed and the tile sliding down, as the small console emerged from its secure hold. She took a deep breath to steady herself and slowly keyed in the long alpha numeric code. Once that was done the console retreated into it's nitche and the tile slid back.

Before them the oppsosite wall rumbled and hitched backward, revealing a narrow opening.

"There Kazuma" Robyn directed him through the opening after they'd regained the floor.

Interesting. "So, the Tanaaran Intelligence is something like, say, the FBI?" It was the closest comparison he could find. They entered the path that had opened before them, and Kazuma ripped off a shred of his kimono. "Let me see your arm." He wrapped the tissue tightly, in a place where it would be more efficient to hold back the bleeding. "You're loosing too much blood, too fast. Bad for your health." He offered her a half smile before they continued their run.

"So, I'm the new security chief then?" It was not completely different from what he had expected. "It just occurred to me that the TeaHouse might start losing guests once today's events become known." That being so, he'd either have a lot of work on his hands, or he'd be busy swatting flies.

"Combine the United States FBI, CIA, NSA, NRA and the various Mil Int. groups together, all together and that's us."

Robyn gasped as he tightened the rough bandage about her upper arm "And with any luck the outter world will never kn..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes went wide[/i]

"What the..." Astonished whisper as she watched one of the many large view screens that formed a near contiguous circle at eye height along the walls of the control center.

It showed the room that the dinner had been taking place with in. The bodies of the men that kazuma had been introduced to lay twisted in death. Three of the black clad, anonymous behind full face masks, invaders held Edward Allen Price in a corner at gun point. Another three had wrestled Tomoe to her knees, her kimonos splattered with blood. A blonde woman in casual clothes sauntered in through the opening from the gardens.

"Well, I guess you didn't expect to see me ever again did you?" Her voice was light and conversational as it came clearly through a unseen speaker

http://www.atddm.com/mmx1.gif

"No..she's been dead for three years" Robyn whispered

The move that took off Tomoe's head was graceful, and spoke of much practise with the katana the slayer carried in her off hand. She dropped the katana distainfully and turned to Price, obviously enjoying his shock.

"What? Upset? You made me what I am so, deal with it." The woman strolled over to the cornered man and stepped in close to the cornered man. A strong backhand had him on his knees, but before more could happen new sounds of weapons fire intruded.

"Ah the scapegoats have arrived...We're out of here" She snapped orders as she and her forces left the camera's field of view.

Kazuma had only time to take a quick peek around the control center, as Robyn's attention centered on a particular screen. Tomoe, his "daimyo", had been abducted. Kazuma's hands reached for the katana, and he almost cut the screen in half, as he saw Tomoe being decapitated. "Who's that whore....?" His voice had reduced to a hiss. "And who the hell's coming now?" This was amazing... He had been plunged into a sea of intrigues, and the supposed people in charge were being even more surprised with the events than him. This couldn't be good.

OOC:"Round like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel with in a wheel, never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reelbefuddled yet?

******************************

Robyn swayed and grabbed the back of the nearest chair for support, then eased herself into the seat. The screen showed a room that was now devoid of the living save for Price who was trying to climb to his feet.

"Who's that whore....?"

"Merideth M. Hexx, one of our best agents...but she was .." Robyn's voice trailed off, as she tried to calculate what was going on. Her head was so light and fuzzy feeling though, nothing was making sense to her.

"And who the hell's coming now?"

She watched as a figures, clad much as the first group had been, entered with a rush, firing after the rapidly departing original invaders. They stopped when the spotted Price, hurrying over to help him finish clambering to his feet.

"Sir, are you .."

"Yes, yes, get your hands off me!" Price pushed his would be helpers away his voice and face petulant "You cockups! Where the hell were you? You were supposed to prevent things like this. Get me out of here. Do what you need to. Sanitize this place."

"Yes sir"

OOC: Not at all. ^.~

IC: Kazuma was beginning to regret ever getting involved in this. Next time, he'd stick to something harmless... Like an assassination. "Sanitize... Any chance they'll find us during their hygienic procedures? Or, any reason we shouldn't allow them to.. sanitize?" By now, he had grown significantly trigger-happy. If he could get into a fight with them... A bit unlikely... He'd be very happy indeed.

"So, that was a former agent." If that was so, she was a magnificent opponent. Perfect. The greater the joy when he finally defeatd her. Emphasis being on the finally... "Any guesses as to why she's doing this?" Kazuma sure had many questions, and few answers.

The shockwave from the explosion threw Fortier through the air, and he landed on the ground with a hard "thud". He had stepped out of the Audi to see if Mercy was comming when the first Mercedes Benz exploded, followed by the second one. The first explosion had tossed Fortier up, the second one knocked him back. Has he stood, he brushed some dust off himeself, and looked at the burning cars. Well, we can add blown up to the list of injuries, he said to himself.

He looked out from the bushes, hoping to see Mercy, but didn't. Off in the distance, the sound of a helicopter rung out, the "whuping" noise from its blades pierceing the air. He stayed low in the bushes, grasping the katana, not ready to make a run for the car. He knew that doing so would expose him to the chopper, should it make a look over the site. He waited for Mercy, and looked around the lot, trying to find an escape route.

As the last of sunlight vanished the distant whoops of police sirens could be heard. One of the shell shocked guests on the patio jackrabbited to his feet only to drop before he had taken two strides. The young woman next to Ruben sobbed quietly for a moment.

"Can any one get a fix on where the shooter might be?" Another of the guests asked conversationally, his very calm bringing a small measure of sanity to the surealism of the situation. Broken glass, blood, an over turned buffet table or two amid a lavishly appointed garden terrace, where expensively dressed people crouched, hiding from an impersonal assassin

***********************************

Mercy raced down the path, her face white with fear for Rob. To see him in the last rays of sunset slowed her and had her throwing her arms about him as she made it to where he crouched in the bushes. The helicopter was nearly over head. "Oh Rob"

"We've got to get out of here. The Military will be all over here, as will University Security, and more." Mercy tried to determine exactly wehre the copter was, but the dense trees obscured any good line of sight.

"Wer need to get in touch with some of my people, get a line on more intellengence. I'll need to find out where my current check point is. Tha means getting to a current phone book. But first we have to get out of here. I think we need to risk the car."

Rob returned Mercy's embrace, but only shortly, quickly looking around. "I left the car running, it should be good to go. All the stuff is in it, I think your right." Robert knew he was a good driver. Hell, one of the best, but a helicopter, well, that was a whole new story all together.

He grabbed the katana, and stood. "Stay here," he said, kissed her, then took off. He pushed himself hard, his nightly runs all adding up to this, and dove onto hard concrette, rolling behind the car. He poked his head out from behind the car, not seeing a helicopter, and moved quickly down the side of the car to the driver's side door. He all but ripped it open, and jumped in, not bothering with the seat belt.

He threw the car into first gear, and stepped hard on the gas, the tires squealing as the complex AWD system fought to figure out which way it wanted to stear the car. Robert reached over, and hit the passenger's side door handle, opening it as the Audi swung around, bouncing into the curb next to the bushes he had been hiding in. The door popped open just at the right moment, offering a momentairly safe haven. "Quick," he shouted, dropping the car out of gear, and holding up the revs, waiting for Mercy to enter the car before unleashing the massive abuse of over four hundred horsepower onto the transmission to delegate to all four wheels.

The young woman next to Ruben sobbed quietly for a moment.

Ruben had been watching with mild interest as several more guests were gunned down on the spot, many attempting to find safety yet only finding a bullet within their brains. Perhaps it was a massacre for no real purpose, yet Ruben doubted it highly. One does not go about killing people for no reason at all. Ruben could give a reason justifying every murder he had ever committed, at least in his own opinion.

The woman next to him sobbing was a nuisance, crying never achieved anything. At that point a man spoke up, inquiring as to the location of the armed party crasher. Ruben took a few moments to look around, gazing at body locations and wounds if possible.

"I'd say he or she is up on the north roof, I think. Can't be too sure and I don't think I'll poke my head out to check..."

Despite the situation, Ruben could still manage to slip in some dry humour.

A chorus of half laughing chuckles and snorts greeted Rubens comment.

"Yeah it has to be from one of the roof tops, the angle gives him the advantage. Sounds like a McMillin though, not a Barret." Replied the unseen in the deepinging gloom speaker.

"Hmmm, we may have additional problems" Another commented "The sirens stopped back at the main guard gate. I can see a bit and their lights haven't moved since they first arrived, what ten minutes ago?"

"Holly, this waterfall is original to the patio isn't it?"

"Yes, I never bothered to redo it, liked it as it was "

"Good!...Any one here good with locks? If we can get this door open we can get down to the main service way tunnels."

***************************************

"Sanitize... Any chance they'll find us during their hygienic procedures? Or, any reason we shouldn't allow them to.. sanitize?

"I don't know if they''l find the cut outs, they're well conceled, but it's possible. And as far as stopping them..." Robyn shook her head then had to stop as stars spangled her vision. "Kazuma...theres a first aid kit..on the wall, white, red cross...blue goop for my arm and stims to keep me going" her voice sounded distant to her ears.

"We probably need to leave. We can take the tunnels" Robyn tried to stand, or though she did. She lost a little time, and when she looked around she found she was still sitting

*********************************************

Mercy darted to the still moving car and dove in though the momentarily open passenger door. She was upright and reaching for the seatbelt befopre the door thudded closed. She braced herself as Robert stomped on the gas and the Audi roared down the road like a land bound rocket.

"First turn, go right, then right again, get us back into the capitol."

The narrow side road twisted and turned through the thickly treed parkland, barely viable from the air. Soon they would reach the wider road that accessed the autobahn or the University campus. There the road was wide enough that the towering oaks while they shaded the road did little to hide it. And the Autobahn was readily visible to any one airborn, but it was the only way to or from the city - and the only bridge for miles over the magnificant breath of the river.

As Robert slammed the Audi into drive, the chasis twisted, resisting the sudden power being fed through the transmission to the four wheels. However, Fortier held the gas to the floor, and after a heartbeat that seemed to last for hours, the Audi rocketed out of the parking lot, all four wheels screaming, fighting for traction as he powered onto the main road.

The first turn came, and he dropped his foot hard on the clutch, taking the car out of gear, the sudden power disapearing, the car screaming sideways through the turn in a near perfect drift, comming around, and pointing back towards the main direction. He slammed the wheel hard right, comming through another drift, and pointing the car towards the capitol.

The Audi roared, and Fortier stayed on the gas all the way through, trying to put as much distance between him and the chopper as posible. He had hoped that the helicopter had missed his escape, and now as the Audi rocketed down the open road, he was, for the first time in is life, truely concerned. He knew he had skill and tallent, and that he could out drive near anyone in the world, but his was different.

"Where too once we get there," he asked.

Ruben merely produced a grin when someone asked about the door. This seemed just as good a situation as any to prove himself to the people around him and perhaps establish the kind of business relationship he was looking for.

"I should be able to do something."

With that he plunged a hand into one of the many hidden pockets inside his jacket and rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling out a small grey pouch.

"Just keep an eye on things and stay quiet, I should have it open soon enough."

Still crouched down as low as he could, Ruben waddled forward until he was directly in front of the lock. Immediately he layed the pouch down before him and unwrapped it, revealing an asortment of small metallic tools of a varied range of purposes regarding the opening of mechanical locks.

Carefully Ruben gazed into the lock, examining what pieces he could before slipping in two very thin tools, one slightly hooked whilst the other was relatively straight with a flat end. Dead silence reigned as Ruben listened intently for the minute clicks signifying he had unlocked the one of the many pins within the lock.

Fortunately the lock was more sturdy than complicated and seemed to be designed more for withstanding force than the careful touch of a lock picker. Several more faint clicks followed until finally a final loud one destroyed the silence.

"Got it."

The door swung open softly.

Kazuma cursed under his breath. She had lost too much blood. He went for the medikit in the wall, and applied the goop and stims. "Just relax. You could use some rest." He grabbed Robyn, and carried her in his arms. She didn't offer any resistance at all. "Just tell me where to go."

"Got it." The door swung open softly.

"There should be a smallish chamber there where the main pump is, and the floor is mostly a grate. Lift it out and there should be light coming up- not much but enough- there is a wall mounted ladder. Holly's house is higher than mine so I'd day about a forty foot climb down to the service tunnel." Came the voice that had orginally asked Holly about the waterfall "The entire city is underlain with them."

***************************************

"We've got to go into the service corridors, use them to get to another base, one that hasn't been potentially compromised." Robyn's good hand moved over the console before her, sending out all the data that the Teahouse had collected to otherbases and agents. She didn't know how much the system had been compromised but she knew that she had to spread the information as widely as possible. What exactly was happening had confused her badly and she had so many unanswered questions. Those would have to wait for the moment. She knew that she'd left a trail of blood that once the hidden ways were found could be tracked to the command center.

Once she'd set the self destruct she allowed Kazuma to carry her without protest. She guided him through another set of passages to a well conceled entrance to the service corriodors that wound through the capitol, corridors that few knew of.

And small two person cart, run by a silent electric motor waited in a hidden bay.

*******************************************
"Where too once we get there," he asked.

Before Mercy could reply the helicopter was on their six, and the roadway on the drivers side being cratered with chain gun rounds, the concrete spalls rattling off the Audi. Then the rear window shattered as a dozen of rounds found the Audi, the 5.56mm minigun reaching for the passengers, and finding one of them. Mercy cried out inadvertantly as the round tore through her.

Behind the racing Audi, the roar of an explosion blotted everything else out as the copter became a fireball plungeing earthward. Though it's intervention had come too late.

Ruben listened intently as a general description of what would be inside was given to him. He was now out of his attempted diplomatic mood and quite serious about what he was doing. For all he knew, a mistake could lead to their death.

Without hesitation he moved into the chamber, quickly scurrying along in a crouched position. Ruben cursed himself for not bringing any weapons besides his slight diamond blade. It was a handy little weapon, easily hidden and couldn't be detected by metal scans, yet he feared it would not be enough for whatever tasks lay ahead.

Within seconds Ruben was moving over the grated and floor and it only took a moment of scanning the grates to find a dim source of light shining through one. A quick yank of the grate resulted in it coming away, opening access to the service ladder. Satisfied everything was in order, Ruben called back to the others.

"Alright, let's go. Once we're all through, shut the door. I'd rather we not be followed by whoever the hell is out there."

The ladder was sturdy and well maintained. The service corridor was as well, if dimly lit. The others slowly climbed down following Ruben, some of the women rather hesitant in high heels, others seemingly unfazed.

The last down was the was the butler who'd met Ruben at the townhouse's front door.

"Closed, and I did my best to jam it, sir"

Holly had been one of the later ones down but was effeciently directing some of the guests to head to the right down the corridor. Unobtrusively the guests had sorted themselves into two groups. One being herded away in the direction Holly had indicated accomapnied by a pair of Holly's waitestaff, the other staying where they were, relaxed but quietly poised.

After catching Holly's eyes the butler nodded at Ruben and headed off after the first group. Silence reighned until they had disappeaded down a cross corridor some two hundred feet away.

In certain conditions, it doesn't take a good amount of exterior force to cuase a car to loose control. One of those conditions is extreme speed. When a car is moving at higher velocities, teh time that the contact patch of the wheel is actually in contact is smaller, and makes less grip. When traveling, at, say, one hundred and fifty miles per hour, the contact patch is minimal enough even in an AWD car that another high velcoity object, say in our case a 5.56mm bullet, can cause enough distraction to a driver to remove his eyes from teh road. The subsequent counter manuver used to change direction to avoid, in our case, a rather decent sized branch siting in the road, can be over done so that the smaller contact patch is not substantial enough to allow the driver to resume control of the vehicle.

This was the one thing plowing through Fortier's mind as he wrestled to regain control of the car. The new sun roof which had been installed by the helicopter had taken too much of Fortier's attention from the more important act: keeping the 500hp German sled pointed in the proper direction to keep out of accidents.

That, and the small cry that erupted from Mercy. He had been around enough people who had been shot to tell the wound wasn't exactly a good one. Of course, the 5.56mm round could do a good amount of damage if it hit in a vital area, such as the mid torso.

Between being shot at, which Fortier had considered a common occourance, and Mercy know being hit, his attention went in to many directions, and he never noticed the branch of substantial size sitting in the middle of the road. Once he did see it, his counter manuver was extreme. And as the Audi spun haphazardly, he silently cursed himself, fighting to regain control. However, his silent cursing came to an end as the Audi found a new home in a guard rail on the side of the road, the force of his head comming into contact with the saty glass of the drivers side window, and sending him into blackness.

Ruben watched patiently as the others soon disappeared down the tunnel, most of them a shaken up to some degree after their encounter with near death. Ruben found that being indifferent towards his death made things much easier, he didn't get so emotional. Of course he didn't want to die, yet he realised it would be no big loss in the world.

Turning to Holly, Ruben gazed at her face for a few moments in the dim light. He couldn't help but think she new a lot more about what the hell was going on than she was willing to admit. Face completely blank, Ruben spoke.

"So Holly. Are you going to tell me what's going on or do we play a guessing game?"

Holly scrubbed at a smear of dirt that covered a good portion of her face, looking very tired in the dim light and no little confused as well

"No games , but I'm not really sure Ruben. That was a mixed bag of messages. Care to throw your lot in with us? We pay well and we're willing to extend trust based on our dossier of you."

it was professional in the extreme, subtle and carefully choroegraphed, but he had been definitely surrounded. No weapons were showing yet and no one was with in range of an unadvertised lash out.

****************************************

The guard rail gave way and the Audi plunged into the deceptively placid surface of the river below. The boom of the big vehicle hitting the water and the huge spray that marked the location of the vehicle's entry did not go un noticed.

Mercy cried out again as the car tumbled nose first into the air. Despite the stars that swam in front of her eyes, she managed to pull Rob upright, as the air bags deployed, reacting to the sharp impact with the rivers survace- a drop of some nearly fifty feet.

"Rob" She shook him as hard as she could, her voice tight with pain.

The river was cold and its subsurface waters moving swiftly, but the heavy station wagon was sinking nearly straight down. A vertible wall of water poured over the pair as the shot out rear window went beneath the surface.

Fortier hung limp in the seatbelt, unconcious from the impact. However, the rushing water brought him back to his senses and as teh car slowly sunk, his eyes shot open, and he went into reaction mode. He cleared his mind, trying to solve the situation, and moved quickly, yet calmly. He first reached down, following his chest belt, to the clasp, and released his seat belt. Time was running out as he quickly did the same to Mercy.

The water pressure was tight against the door, and desipte the water rushing in through the front and rear windows, it was still holding the door shut. He grabbed his bag out of the back, now chest deep in water and quickly getting deeper, pulled out the 93R copy, and fired into the window. The water started rushing in faster, but the pressure on the door equalized, and Fortier grabbed Mercy.

He did his best to gently pull her over the armrest and stick shift, and out the open door. They were now holding thier breaths, fully submerged. He pressed his lips against hers, breathing for both of them, and kicked off the side of the sinking Audi. Seconds later, they broke the surface, and Fortier gasped, pulling as much air into his lungs as he could, pulling Mercy towards the shore.

Mercy had tried to stay conscious but the shock and loss of blood was weakening her greatly. She had found the seatbelt latch but lacked the strength to even keep her hand there much less depress it forcefully enough to activate it.

His kiss kept her alive until they surfaced. Mercy was little more than a limp weight in Fortier's arms, as she gasped for breath when they surfaced. The air revived her and she managed to kick, along with him, if weakly.

And so he finally recieved the proposition. It took a lot of fake smiles, evading bullets and picking a lock, yet finally Holly had posed the question he'd been waiting for. He didn't like the fact that they knew little about what was going on, yet one should always expect things never to go right.

"Yes, I'm with you Holly. So where to from now?"

Ruben had a feeling he was getting into something much deeper than he should, yet the money was meant to be good and that's what he was here for.

"Now we get to a place where there should be more information about whats happening" Holly's voice was brisk

With out waithing for orders one of the men turned to the tiled wall of the corridoe and began counting tiles from one of the rungs of the ladder. When he'd found a particular spot he taped a specific pattern and a tile depressed slightly.

He finished with the concealed state of the art security console in seconds - about the time a massive rumble rolled down from above.

"Weapons free, take what you'd like but don't take too long choosing...That sounded like military not improvised" The man, he'd been introduced to Ruben as Joel, advised as he grabbed a Barretta and and a H&K MP10 then stepped side so the others could make their choices from the large, and extremely complete, weapons cache that opened up. Some of the women tossed their high heels in as they drew pistols.

Holly was speaking softly to one couple, who nodded and headed off in the opposite direction the first group had gone, not bothering to draw weapons. She turned back to Ruben.

"Don't worry Ruben, we really do pay well, and the number of players in this game is limited ...I think."

Dana, a tall cool faced blonde tossed Holly several items including a minaturized headset. She smiled at Ruben and tossed him one as well.

"Grab what you want from the locker Ruben. Joel and I'll be taking rear gaurd"

The river looked serene, but the current was strong. Over a mile wide, and deep enough for supertankers to negotiate with no problems - though none did, the river being off limits to such traffic much above Port Royale

However Tanaara's ships of war regularly plied the river, and there was a small but active base just north of Montgard.

The small sub that surfaced along side the couple was completely unexpected however. It certainly was not of military design, or at least not Tanaaran design, and it's sleek black hull bore no markings. It was only some hundred feet long over all and the conning tower was similarly unmarked. A trio of men, in dark uniforms, emerged hastily, and immediately tossed a life ring in Fortier's direction.

Ruben couldn't help but smile as the weapons locker was revealed. These people were certainly organised and he liked that. If there was one thing Ruben really disliked in his line of work it was being employed by someone with less intelligence than his left foot.

Upon being given freedom to choose a few items, Ruben stepped forward and immediately grabbed himself an H&K G36. He'd taken a liking to this weapon from his time in The Golden Simatar and figured he'd use something he was experienced with. After a moment he also decided to grab two USP pistols and a few clips of ammo before stepping back. That should do him.

Ruben nodded to the tall woman as he fastened his headset before turning back to Holly.

"Right. I'll manage just fine then."

Ruben quickly ejected his clip, checked the bullets and shoved it back inside before cocking the weapon.

Fortier felt the rushing feeling of water being displaced as the sub surfaced, pulling him in lightly. He was fighting a strong current, and loosing, when the black shape lifted up through the water. Fortier clung tight to his bag, and Mercy, and was about to kick away hard when the life ring sailed through the air and landed a short distance from him. He reached out, hesitantly, and kicked hard, pushing himself towards the ring, grabbing it when it was in reach.

Strong arms made light work of hauling the pair through the chill waters of the river, and more hands waited to lift Mercy up and out, then turn back to help Fortier from the flow.

They let him keep hold of his bag, but remained watchfull of his ability to stand on his own. More had come out and were carrying Mercy into the sub with comepetent carefulness.

Once the deck had cleared a little a tall, slender man, whose jet black skin matched the jet black of his uniform. That uniform was bare of marking save for a subdued Eye of Horus on his collar

"Mr. Robert F. Fortier, yes? We need to be vacating the observable premisses sir. If you'll come within."

Robert stood shivering on the deack of the submarine, clenching his gear bag, and nodded in between the chattering of his teeth. He was hesitant at first, having yet to meet a trustable face, save Mercy, since landing in Tanara, but realised, he really didn't have a choice.

"Ok, lead teh way," he said, dollowing the man who had met them on the deck.

As Fortier entered the vessel a warm blanket was wraped about him. It was more than just a warmed in a dryer blanket, for he would discover that not only was it creating it's own warmth, but purring as well. He was quickly ushered though the vessel, given no time to look it over- but what little he saw in no way corresponded to any submarine he'd ever seen before.

"Take us down Ms. Prescott if you please."

"Aye sir"

"Hold steady at sixty feet and engage ring activation."

"Captain, engineering says that we have a failure to engage in the ..."

That was the last he heard as he was let to a miniscule medical bay. An older woman silver grey hair cropped short and fluffy, clad in the umbiquitous white coat of physicians every, where was entering some sort of data into a control console of a roughly eight foot long cylinder. Mercy, had been laid within, under a thin mylar sheet. Her sodden clothes had been hasitily cut off, and lay in a pile off to the side of the bay. As Robert watched, the semi transparent top arc of the cylinder slid around engaging with a heavy clumk, sealing Mercy with in.

The group moved quickly and quietly with an obviously well trained point guard some fifty feet ahead. Ruben discovered that the tunnel had a gentle slope- nothing that a person or an electric golf cart couldn't negotiate. The lighting was uniformly din, and the corridor ran straight for only a hundred feet befor splitting in two, with cross corridors visible down both arms of the split. There had been no interferance to this point

How ever just after the group took the left hand corridor, which turned very sharply a little more than another hundred feet along, the sounds of pursuit could be heard. The echo of Dana's and Joel's pistol's firing, and answering fire, had the group almost at a run.

"We need to get to the next cross corridor. The right hand wall, of the right hand intersection." Holly called out to the one who was point. He nodded and sprinted ahead.

Ruben was in the middle of the group so he wasn't shooting or leading, yet the gunfire wasn't far behind him. G36 in hand and ready, Ruben continued to look over his back every so often in case whoever was following them managed to get by the others.

At that point he heard Holly call out to where they were heading, giving Ruben all the necessary information he needed. With that said he dropped back towards the end of the group in order to unleash some of his own devastating fire power.

As Ruben rounded a corner he heard the distinct thud of someone falling against a wall, hard. It was too close to be an enemy and so Ruben stopped, crouched and angled slightly around the stone wall to see more of their own men and their pursuers not far behind.

With a clear shot available, Ruben raised the weapon to his shoulder and lined up the sight. Despite the sizable clip, Ruben prefered to make every shot count and once he'd selected a target, unleashed a three round burst upon the unknown man. He fell with a grunt and splash.

"We've lost one and they're right on our heels, those at the back should be ready to turn around and start shooting..."

Ruben wasn't quite sure if everyone would hear that over the comm yet he assumed it would be so.

Robert watched as Mercy was sealed in, ignoring the throbbing in his amr, back, and head. He was used to it by now, pain really didn't mean a whole lot, save for the one thing it did mean: You are still alive.

He let that thought run through his head for a bit, that the pain still said he was alive, and that some how comforted him. He looked on at Mercy, then at the doctor. "Alright doc, I guess we gotta go through this like everything else. First, hows she gonna do, and second, where are we now, and where are we goin?"

"Initial scans showed that she has severe internal damage, and I can't take care of it here. The trauma tube will keep her stable and start in on repairing the damage. As to the other questions,...you'll have to ask Captain Rysinger."

She had quietly passed a palm sized instrument up and down Fortier as she spoke and raised an eyebrow, apparently at what she sw on the screen.

"You have a mild concussion, and the beginning of hypothermia, which the wrap is taking care of, and numberous strains and bruiseing." She unwrapped a thick blue patch, roughly four inches square and slapped it on his forearm. "There that will help the aches and pains, and take care of that concussion. Here's some dry clothes for you."

She nodded to a crewman who'd come forward with a dark blue coverall and underwear. He set it on the counter and left as the doctor also stepped out to give Fortier some privacy to change.

Robert nodded. He'd be fine, pushing the pain behind him, and then looked at Mercy. He walked over to the case, and placed his hand on top of it, looking down at Mercy. "I'll see ya in a bit, love ya," he said. He looked around the bay quickly, and changed. However, he didn't wait for the doctor to return, and instead, left the room.

He wondered around the sub, looking for the Captain that would be able to give him some clue in hell what was going on.

"We've lost one and they're right on our heels, those at the back should be ready to turn around and start shooting..."

"Roger that." Came the reply

Before more could drop back with his came Dana's voice over the coms from her position closet to the pursuers. "Fire in the hole"

The minor concussion, but each eardrum shattering, eye blinding blast of a flash bang overrode all combat for a second.

As soon as the code words for explosive being unleashed came over the coms Ruben dived back behind the corner he'd been using for cover and waited with his eyes closed as time rocketed towards the impending explosion.

Ruben felt the ground and walls shake slightly with the explosion and even felt very slight effects from the flash bang, yet not really enough to hold him back for more than a few seconds. Now that many of the enemy were stunned he figured it would be a good time to gain some ground and so Ruben broke into a sprint, catching up with many of the others.

"That worked reasonably well. Are we far from where we need to be?"

Despite his gain upon the others, Ruben continued to look backwards in order to assure he wouldn't take a bullet in the back.

When Ruben arrived Holly had her eye to an optic scanner, then a another concealed door appeared as a small stretch of white tiled wall slid aside. The door was very thich, and the edge seals thick, almost like an ari lock door. Quick turns of a dogging wheel had it opened and a shot, less than five foot long entry access zone could be seen, with a similare door at it's end. Two of the team leaped in and strode quickly to the further door, having it opened in mere moments

"All aboard" Holly smiled grimly at Ruben, waiting as others entered. "Tom, I want this rigged to blow and flood after we've left."

The one she adressed nodded and set about entering a series of commands in the control panel

****************************

Those aboard the submarine paid little attention to Rob, as they went about their duties. The sub looked like nothing he'd ever seen, advanced beyond comprehension. Eventually a small blue light floated before him at eye level and a voice sounded from somewhere to his left

"Mr. Fortier, My apologies for not speaking with you sooner. I am Voxpop, the AI of the Sightseer and Captain Rysingers XO. We're ready to translate, and you might enjoy seeing that from the bridge."

Fortier stared at the floating blue light with a skeptical eye. He had had his dealings with AIs before, and they hadn't ever really been what one would call, pleasent. However, he had reason to trust this one, only on the fact that it, well, its captian, and the ships crew, had saved his life. He nodded, and walked past a number of crew men, towards the bridge.

Arriving on the ships command center, he looked around briefly, ignoring any stares or glances. Instead, he did what he did best: scanned every face in the room, looking for anyone that could resemble a high rank. He glanced around, and walked towards a man in the center of the bridge that seemed to eminate rank and poise.

"Glad you decided to join us Mr. Fortier." The individual he'd decided was the Captain was just that. "Though Commander McAllister is not very happy at you being allowed to see so much of the Sightseer. Seeing how we are violating about ten different standing orders."

He nodded to the tall man in the jet black uniform, with the Horus eye collar tabs, who was standing off to one side.

"Ring created, translation in five..." One of the crew began a quiet countdown and the view on the massive forward screen changed ...

From the muddy brown of a rivrs depths to suddenly the endless depths of space, and a view of an immense space ship...looking greatly like it was on an intercept course.

Ruben watched silently as Holly did what was necessary to open the door, noting the specific requirements and how he might need to get around such things in the future. Whilst he was working for these people now and his loyalty would remain to them so long as they funded him, Ruben had ended up working against previous employers before and it was worthy of remembering such details.

With everyone now inside the little white passage way and continuing on their journey whilst Tom made the final adjustments, Ruben slowed his paced to fall back with Holly.

"So where exactly are we going? Judging by all this you guys have been expecting this sort of thing and are well prepared."

"Rubin we're heading to our main base, or so I profoundly hope. And yes we're well organized, and prepared, even if it looks like one set of the 'good guys' has decided that being 'bad guys' is a better option for them. That's the 'official' military behind us, and it shouldn't be, it should be the private forces fielded by the Megas"

Holly flattened herself to let the last of the small group get past.

"Hop on in Reubin, the yellow submarine is about to set sail."

Robert watched the screen as the ship jumped. "Ah, now thats a nice parlor trick," he muttered. "Moving pretty hard, where to cap," he asked.

"Actual momentum isn't much, the Leading Edge will be tractoring us aboard shortly, and Miss Hexx will be in excellent hands very soon after that. The Empires ships have the best medical tech available, even if our aportation technology gets short shrift at times."

Captain Rysinger just smiled as Commander McAllister's ebony faced twisted in a scowl momentarily. Extended range recon ships had to have independant captains that seldom followed the regs, even if it made for grey hair for the Imperial Intellegence officers assigned to them. For a Tanaran Commander MCAllister was extremely rules oriented.

Pale green lines of light stretched forth from the Leading Edge and smoothly the disguised reconn platform began being tractored into the gaping hold that slid open in the warships underbelly

Ruben nodded in understanding as Holly explained the situation. From this he could gather two possibilities. Someone in the army was taking some sort of rebellious action or the government had turned nasty. Either way it made things difficult. Ruben hated soldiers.

"I see. So we're dealing with politics as much as we are with guns. Great."

Whilst Ruben could be considered quite the diplomat when he wished to be, he usually stayed clear of politics due to his utter contempt for such things. Of course it was too late to worry about that now and so he merely hopped aboard the vessel, waiting for Holly to follow so they could get out of there.

Robert nodded in mock understanding. "At least she'll be ok," he said quietly.

He remained silent as he ship floated towards the larger craft. He let the entire situation come to him now, figuring out where he was, and what was going on. He finally spoke again, with a hope of getting an answer. "So, whats the deal here," he asked informally, and calmly, ready to crank up teh anger level, if nessacery.

Captain Rysinger was nearly one hundred and sixty years old, though he little looked it. He'd gotten his start in Tanaran Special Ops, and the young man they'd fished out of the river reminded him of himself of many years ago.

"Mr. Fortier, we're observers sent by the Tanaran Empire. I think that the details would be better handled by others, but suffice it to say Tanara does not intend to let her daughter nation be torn apart by opportunist inside or outside the government."

He didn't really want to get into the histories of Tanara, and Tanaara, but he would if he had to to keep Robert calm long enough to get him into hands more informed on the various events

"Politics the dirtiest invention in the human armoury." Holly shared a wry look with Ruben. She might play the game with a masters skill, but she didn't have to like it.

They're waiting on us" Holly turned and ducked as to not hit her head on the hatch combing. One of the group waited to dog the hatch after them. The underground, man modified underground resivoirs of Tanaara were immense but only a handfull knew they housed submarines.

The sub was small and crowded, with only the pair of operators having real seats, the rest- nearly a dozen people- sat on padded benches.

"Okay folks, if Anne and I remember how to drive this thing we should be at Firhat in about half an hours, maybe a little more. I know it's not fast but hey, at least we aren't gonna be chased...we hope."

Ruben nodded at Holly's comment regarding politics. It was good to see he wasn't the only one that detested it with a passion. With that the pair moved into the submarine and everything was sealed up. Weapon still in hand, Ruben flicked the safety on and relaxed momentarily.

Claiming a corner of the sub not far behind Holly as his own, Ruben remained silent for several moments as they began moving and making their aquatic escape. Ruben couldn't claim he knew much of Tannara and had no idea where exactly they were going.

"So where is this thing taking us?"

Robert nodded in appriciation. "Good to see people still like to watch out for thier friends. Not to common a sight anymore."

He watched as they closed in on the larger ship, and stayed silent, letting everyone do their jobs, not wanting to be the cause of an accident. However, the group was obviously profesional enough that his presence wouldn't do anything. Still, he decided best to err on the side of caution, and just watched.

Holly laughed wearily at Ruben's question. "Well, Firhat isn't really a place, even if some of our placenames are rather strange. It's Firhat Ben Belkassiem, one of our senior directors...or.." and her eyes went as bleak as her voice "The one behind this problem."

"Traditionally the Megacorps try to covertly take over the government. . The government can't acknowledged, openly, their machinations, so the face off is covert...traditionally"

She smiled wryly, or perhaps it was bitterly "Tradition seems to have gone out the window, as I don't think they're behind this one, and despite the military behind us, I have reason to believe that they are just pawns in a new game."

It had been an interesting forty eight hours for all involved.

Ruben found himself in charge of a small goup of combatants, currently pinned down on the west side of the Tanaaran Capitol building. A sprawling structure a multi story dome of elaborate stained glass surmounting a rotunda, with two angled wings that rose only three stories.

Contact with the group that Holly was leading let him know that the VP was already dead, and that her group was pinned down by even heavier fire than his group of ten were. Other groups reported suscess in blocking the arrival of any additional reinforcements, but unwelcomely - by both sides.

Part of the capitol city of Montguard was burning, part was under control by the military, but the largest portion ws controlled by the Directorate of Intellegence, rebellious members of the Directorate - for they were standing against the current Director who was now known as the power behind the coup attempt.

Keeping Ruben's forces from advancing was an experienced team of special forces, being led by a blonde haired beauty who never seems to miss what she aimed at and was identifable by the katana slung over her back

This wasn't exactly what Ruben had in mind when he took this job, yet the money was still good if he managed to survive the ordeal. Thinking back on the other woeful situations he'd been in, this one wasn't too bad.

Bullets roared through the air all around Ruben as he took cover behind a large stone pillar. If he wasn't so close to being shredded to pieces he may have taken some time to admire the building before him yet such a luxury wasn't open to him at the moment.

Experience told Ruben that the worst conflicts were usually caused by politics and this situation certainly ran true to that. From what little Holly had told him, this whole mess involved some greedy bastard from a government intelligence agency attempting to remove the President. Ruben wasn't too worried about that, save that it meant this guy had a lot of resources to employ against him.

Crouch down upon his knees, Ruben poke his head from beyond the pillar and gained a quick glance at the enemy. Evidently he hadn't been noticed quite yet and so Ruben took the oppurtunity to get a short burst off, catching a man in the throat with his rounds. This immediately gained the attention of several others, including a woman with a sword. The bullets resumed and Ruben was behind the pillar once again. Activating his comm, Ruben attempted to speak with other survivors of his team.

"Anyone have anything explosive? That would be helpful in getting rid of these bastards."

Mercy lay, only semi conscious at the moment, in the envirobed, in the Leading Edge's main ICU. They'd decanted her from the trauma tube as soon as the tube had been brought into the medical facility. The read out's hand't looked good. The tube had stabilized her, and taken care of the countless superficial wounds, but the minigun 's rounds had tumbled through her body. The internal damage was vast, and her time in the frigid river had brought in a host of bacteria as well.

"Mr. Fortier, we are going to need to clone a pancreas, a liver, both lungs, and a gallbladder, and it's not something we can wait on."

The doctor was gentle but firm, and not asking his permission. "It will take a minimum of forty eight hours to grow the necessary organs. We'll be useing her own tissue as the basis for the cloning, as was done with her heart, so there will be no chance of rejection, no lifelong dependance of antirejection drugs. Our technology is far beyond that."

They'd looked into using one of the Cats Keep Psi Healera aboard, but they were reluctant save as a last resort because of the fact that she was a mirror twin. There was a great risk of mutation with psi healing. Though the healer would be at hand if things went 'south'

The surgery had gone better than expected, and for the last couple of hours Mercy had been floating in and out of consciousness.

"Rob?" Her voice was faint, little more than a whisper

Robert nodded. He didn't know that a pancreas was a real organ, or what any of the medi talk meant. He just wanted Mercy to be ok. He was standing in the waiting room when he heard her faint voice. He walked into the room, and looked past the stream of wires and beeping machines that did only God knew what. Fortier knew death, not medicine. Well, doctors had their tools, and he had his. We all play with what the gods give us.

He walked over, gently taking her hand. "Hey babe, how ya doing," he asked, knowing the obvious answer.

"Like death warmed over" She smiled up at him "And all of the techno majick means the old stories are real..I asked... a spaceship, a starship..." She shook her head slightly, eyes growing ever clearer

"Rob, my alternate ID papers, and those for you are in there." She got a hand to move enough to indicate the wide mouth glass bottle she had retrieved from its hiding spot at the University. The bottle was heavily caked with years of mineral sediment, and almost totaly opaque.

"Please go back down, go to the address I'll give you...find out whats coming down...Please?"

"Anyone have anything explosive? That would be helpful in getting rid of these bastards."

The reports came back negative, they'd used their remaining supply in getting through the other pockets of problems.

*Ruben, I think I've found a way in that would take us around the area their holding, but it's going to be a long way around and will eat up time.*

That was Janet, one of the furthest flung of his small force.

The defenders opened fire again and one of Ruben's troops cried out wit painas a round grazed his calf. It sounded as if their opponents were also recieving reinforcements

Robert nodded. He walked over, and grabbed the case, opened it with a bit of force, and pulled out the documents. He dropped hers on the table, and then took his out. He pocketed them, and went for another pocket, pulling out a phone. He looked at it in disapointment, no signal. Of course, it would make sense that in space, your cell phone would be just beyond roaming.

He waved over a nurse, and asked for her to go get someone who could get him planet side, and then walked over to Mercy. He took her hand gently, and nodded. "Don't worry babe, I'll take care of this. Everything."

His voice was oddly comforting in a hard, serious was. He leaned forward, kissing her forhead, and got the address needed. He turned, walking out, with a cold, dead look in his eyes. The switch had been flipped, and there was only one way to turn it off. Fortier was on instinct mode now, no longer a person but a living breathing instrument of death. He could be a scalpel, or a hammer, but, one thing was positive: Who ever was on the recieving end would not be getting up from their fall for a long while.

The person Fortier had requested, someone able to bring him planet side, was walking down the hall, and Fortier turned to face him. He began to speak, barking out orders as if he were an actual member of the controling body of this ship. "Your gunna take me planet side, to a secure location. I need to make a few calls, get some people into Tanara, and you are gonna help me. Capiche?"

Ruben cursed silently as he considered his options. He was no military commander and yet it didn't take much to realise they were screwed in their current situation. They were outgunned, outnumbered and were likely to be outmanouvered very soon if some sort of action wasn't taken.

One of his men just fell. That was a sure enough sign for him. Activating his comm, Ruben called out to all remaining people under his command.

"I don't care how long it will take us, we're taking that path. Everyone converge on mentioned position."

In the brief period of relative silence in his area, Ruben dived forward and landed behind some bushes before rolling to his feet and breaking into a quick dash around several more pilons and eventually around the corner of the building. Several people were already there and it was a matter of time before the whole group was ready to go. Turning to Janet, Ruben gave his team member a questioning look, resulting in an answer to his unasked question.

"Well, I was taking cover behind those bushes over there when I realised I wasn't standing on earth. Clearing the dirt away, I found a grate that connects to a tunnel. I reckon it's probably an old escape tunnel or something, should lead us directly inside. Hopefully."

Ruben gave Janet a quick grin.

"That's perfect. Stay on the look out though, there still may be enemy forces down there."

Within minuntes the entire group had entered the tunnel and the entrance was sealed up again. It reminded him of the sewers the group had run through not so long ago, yet at least the air was more breathable this time. With everything in order, the group quickly made their way through the tunnel for several minutes, winding this way and that until they finally came to an apparent dead end.

"Heh, this figures."

Immediately Ruben began flashing his torch around every square inch of the wall, looking for any indication of a button or latch. Nothing was obvious. Several more minutes passed as everyone searched the area, eventually coming up with nothing again. Remaining calm, Ruben considered his options... There were no others, this had to be it.

Slightly angered by the whole situation, Ruben gave the wall a thundering kick and watched in surprise as it slid open. Shaking his own head, he had to keep in mind that sometimes things were so simple you would completely overlook them. With that done, Ruben led his group into the government building of Tanara.

In the flight planet side, Fortier's guide had explained a good amount of the Tannaran technology, and once planet side, Fortier whiped out a cell phone. It took five minutes to make nine calls, all to very dangerous, and to Fortier, very close, men. He palmed the address info into his pockets, and looked at his guide.

"If all that shit you said is true, then we need to get me back home, then back here, and fast."

The guide nodded stating it would be no problem, at least, not a serious one. Between the gathering, preperations, and set, it had taken just under an hour. Using technology that Fortier didn't understand, nor did he want to understand, it took a total of sixty three minutes to get him back to Imitora, get the other nine members of Fortier's old unit, suit up, and get a bird, then back into Tanara.

The MH-60I, although nowhere near as advanced as the MV-22I, was the prefered modus of airial transportation of the elite Imitoran Colonial Marine Corps' Force Recon TRACT, or Tactical Recon, Action, and Counter Terror. There were only two of the ultra elite, ten man units active at any time. They were only ten, but ten that had been through hell and back, and then made the return trip just for fun. At one point, a previous First Speaker had actually contemplated disolving the unit, for fear that it was far to dangerous to have twenty men that could easily secure the downfall of a nation within days. Fortier had fought to keep the ICMC Force Recon TRACT active, and won.

And now, two years later, the ten man elite unit, all former operatives, sat in the passenger section of the MH-60I. The non directional rotors actually made the interior compartment quieter, the multi composite blades causing the sound to eminate from somewhere other than the bird. They were all dressed similarly, black BDU style shirts, jungle fatigue style pants, load bearing vests worn over multicomposite SpyderWeave body armor. Throat mikes held in place round their necks, with the tight curling wires running up to their ears into a single ear piece.

Fortier, along with six of the other men, carried a UMAC CAR-94, a 6.7mm assault rifle based on the Armalite platform, custom built for the members of the TRACT units. A 32 round magazine held the deadly 6.7mm BTJHPs, with the last four rounds being tracers. On his thigh, like all the other team members, he carried a UMAC/Kimber Special Custom, a .45ACP Colt based hand gun. He carried five extra magazines for each weapon, as well as an assortment of flashbangs and fragmentation grenades, as well as a knife, a sawed off 12 gauge pump action, and other sorted tools and toys.

Two of the other men carried UMAC BRM-50s, a modern varient of the old, yet proven M14 battle rifle. They still fired the same 7.62mm NATO round, but used a fiberglass composite stock as opposed to the wooden one. A third man held a large, ungainly looking rifle. It was a bolt action UMAC Custom .338. The rifle was built specifically for this shooter, with one object in mind: To allow him to put a .338 Lapua round into a man from upwards of a mile away. Then there was Hoot. Fortier's best friend, and so called wingman, the assaulter carried a UMAC LSSW, or Light Squad Support Weapon. The UMAC version of the SAW, it too used the 6.7mm round, but Hoot had loaded the 200 round box magazine with Silver Tip rounds.

They were quiet on boared, mentally preparing for the house assault, when Bear, the nickname of the MH-60I pilot leaned back around. "Hey, we're monitering the rads. Theres a shoot out near one of the government buildings. Wanna go check it out." The pilot looked more like a pro football line backer than a pilot, earning him the nick name Big Bear. However, most of the men in the unit simply called him Bear, his radio call sign be Papa Bear.

Forter looked around, and nodded. "Lets do it. Might yeild something important for us."

Bear nodded, and swung the bird, flying low over a tree line towards the shoot out. The helicopter dipped sudenly. Bear was a former member of the Imitoran Air Forces 1107th Special Air Operations Group, the elite pilots of the military. He now worked for Exectuive Opertions and Specialties, one of the three largest Private Security Forces in Imitora. However, he had worked closely with Recon TRACT, and had been specifically requested for this op.

The helicopter now flew low over a highway, and began cutting and jinking. Bear reached over and flipped a switch on the console. An interior speaker system began blaring, Slipknot's Duality blasting over the intercom. An almost sick smile crept over the faces of the ten men. Four years of training that would kill some, and six years of shootouts, room clearing, executions, assasinations, and other missions that the Imitoran government would never admit even existed, let alone happened, had formed a bond that surpased that of even brotherhood. These ten were one in the same, a single, cohesive body, that moved together, thought together, bleed together, and killed together. They were, in terms once put forth by Hoot, not to be fucked with.

The helicopter swooped low right as the first chorus hit, just as the last of Rueben's group had decended into the sewers. Bear swung the bird around again, and brought it in low and fast over the military force lead by Merrideath, the door gunners opening up with their 7.62mm NATO mini guns, spraying a hard cover of lead death, the fingers of God reaching out, looking for a new soul or two to bring home. Fortier looked at Hoot, and the sick smile turned into a sick, signature smirk. "Lets go fuck some shit up!" he shouted.

The bird came to a slow stop, and all but Connor McManus, the sniper, jumped out, hitting the ground running. The world moved in slow motion for Fortier, each step seeming to take minutes, as opposed to milliseconds. He could hear each individual gun shot, each single whup of the helicopter's rotor, each single heart beat. He brought his rifle up, centering the holosight on a target, and squeezing. A single round ripped from the barrel of his CAR-94, screaming through the air, impacting the man directly in the face, just to the left of the nose, right blow the eye. As the man's head exploded in a bright red mist, the slow motion button was depressed, and it became as if someone had nailed the fast forward, and the world moved into warp speed as he moved with Hoot to out flank the enemy unit, taking well aimed shots at his opponents. It was time to show the Tanarans how Imitorans fought.

The group with Ruben fanned out cautiously in the dim light of the basement they found themselves in. There was some sort of fighting ahead, but it was faint in the distance and given the echos, they could not be sure of the location of the firefight. However where they were at the moment was empty of opposing forces.

"Want me to scout ahead Ruben?" Janet inquired

Tanaran technology had materialized the MH-60I with in a few miles of th Tanaaran Capitol, and unknown to the Imitoran's had left a few small pieces of technology aboard. The Tanaaran military- either side- had no idea the Imitorans were there until one of the Morgan's pawns in a Senteniel JSTAR noted a flutter and commoed a AWACS who found the black copter, for just a split second, as it was doing its touch and go delivery of Fortier's ICMC Force Recon TRACT team. Though they could not keep lock they did manage to vector in a TAF Star Raptor, an advanced and very agile Harrier type interceptor. It would be on the Imitoran helo in seconds, and the old fashioned makr one mod one eyeball was no where as easily spooded as sophisticated electronics.

They also commoed a warning to Merideath's team, but it came to late as one of her reinforcements fell with Rob's shot taking him in the face. However the fact that they believed themselves 'not to be fucked with' didn't cut much slack with the team they faced. Morgan had spent many years planning this night and training teams accordingly. Merideath's cadre was one of his best. Now it was as the bloody British like to put it...'diamond cut diamond'

One of Fortier's team fell as two rounds hit. One smashing his weapon into unuseability, the other shattering his knee. The spectacular blonde who'd made the two shots, was spotlighted by a gleam of light coming from a window for just an eyeblink- then she was gone in the darkness. Her eyes had gleamed in the stray flicker of lights like a cats would and she moved with lethal grace.

The rest of Merrideath's team dove for new postions with the arrival of the the new comers, and adjusting rapidly, began returning fire. Their fire was accurate enough to force the Imitorans to dive for shelter themselves.

"Shit, Connor's down," one of the members of Fortier's team said, the message going out over the voicenet.

In the bird, Bear was watching the radar blips from the MH-60Is airborne tracking radar. "Shit, we got one comming in. I'm gonna drop you off Ryan, where you want?"

The sniper, not letting his concern over his brother Connor getting shot, nodded, and looked out again. "There, that building over there, it'll give me a good overwatch with the rifle."

Bear nodded, and swung the bird around. He came in low over the roof, slowing for only a moment, and Ryan dismounted, grabbing his rifle, and joging over to a corner of the building, getting a good look at the shoot down.

Fortier slammed another magazine home into his rifle. "You see the bitch who took those shots?" he shouted over the sound of gunfire.

"Yeah," Hoot shouted back, letting off a long rip from his SAW. "She looked like fucking Cassie."

Fortier sighed, and popped up above his cover, popping a round off into a target, then double tapping another runner. "Why is it that my ex-girlfreinds always wanna kill me?"

"You did call her a psycho bitch," Hoot commented as he let off a burst, the rounds ripping into a cement wall, more to keep a head down than kill.

"Touche. Give me some cover, I'm gonna go grab Connor."

"Alright. On three. One. Two," and on three, Hoot popped up from behind the baracade he and Fortier had been using, and began to fire. Long, drawn out bursts, with milisecond pauses kept heads down as he moved across the fire line, Fortier hunched over as he sprinted out to Connor. Connor had, as per training, rolled onto his stomach, so his grab strap was accesable. Fortier took hold of the strap on the back of the vest, and began pulling him back towards his previous position.

However, five rounds crashing into the ground infront of him, and one zipping a hairs length from his neck caused him to pause, and turn back, towards another baracade. He let og of Connor, dropping down beside him, clicking the rifle over to its "FA" setting, and held it over his head, over the barracade, and emptied the magazine.

"You ok," he shouted, slamming his third magainze into the rifle.

"Been hit worse. My rifles busted."

"No worries," Fortier shouted, handing him the sawed off pump action. You use this, I'll use your ammo!"

Whomever it was that tackled the Imitoran sniper with rough effeciencey was careful to make sure that neither of them went over the edge. Her footsteps had been silent on the smooth concrete of the roof, as she had darted from her concealed spot next to the buildings ventelation shaft. She'd dove for the spot when the unrecognised helicopter had first appeared, knowing that the heated air warming the shaft would cancel out her own body heat to any IR sensors..

Now Robyn was going to make sure that not one got high guard on her people. Her instructor had taught her well and she took down the stranger as she'd been taught. However she was situationally aware enough to know that something was wrong. The man she'd gotten ahold of wasn't wearing standard Tanaaran military gear. In the position she had him down in there should have been the discomfort of a IFF transponder...and there wasn't.

"Somethings wrong..." Was all she got out before her 'prisoner' turned the tables on her...

The group with Ruben fanned out cautiously in the dim light of the basement they found themselves in. There was some sort of fighting ahead, but it was faint in the distance and given the echos, they could not be sure of the location of the firefight. However where they were at the moment was empty of opposing forces.

"Want me to scout ahead Ruben?" Janet inquired

Ruben took advantage of what little light existed to quickly examine the room surrounding him. The walls were thick cement, as was the floor and even the ceiling. He could only guess this place acted like a bomb shelter, which seemed fair enough considering this was a building of major political significance. It wouldn't do to have the politicians getting bombed, they only ordered such.

"Sure Janet, don't get too far ahead though, I think it would be best if he stuck together."

Whilst Janet moved up the stairs and into the building proper Ruben took a last glance at the basement.

"I want one man to hang back here and guard our exit."

Within seconds a middle aged man stepped forward, nodded and took up a position in the shadows, sitting atop a crate.

"Good. Let's go then."

With that said Ruben led the others up the stairs and into a finely furnished hallway. The floor was covered in rich red carpet and the walls coated in a fine cream paint. Paintings of various men and women throughout history hung upon the walls at even intervals as they passed down the hall.

The sounds of gunfire were growing louder as the group weaved through the affluent halls, ever cautions about each room and corner they passed.

"Janet, have you found anything of interest yet?"

Ryan cursed himself silently, and braced himself for the ground impact. However, his assailent made one fatal mistake: she never followed through. He felt the hesitation, and spun in her arms turning to the inside, elbow up and tucked in, his arm smahing into the side of her head. He was aiming for a temple, but settled with the jaw.

Feeling the weight pull off of him, his hand moved in one swift motion, drawing his UMAC .45 side arm, and he rolled over ontop of her. His left leg went behind him, as a support point, his right knee comming up her body, and into her throat, holding the pin. The side arm came around, and leveled on her face, hammer back, his finger depressing the trigger to its natual safe point. A touch more would have set the gun off. "Start talking, you got five before I get to work," he said his black painted face showing no emotion.

"You're not Tanaaran." Robyn managed to wheeze out past the knee nearly collapsing her throat, blinking past the pain that seared down her jaw.

"Oh freaking great! Not just a coupe but a damn invasion as well."

Other than speaking Robyn stayed absolutely still. Every bit of information she could get before she died would help her people. Her commo system was transmitting and she could only hope Holly or some one else was actively listening in.

Ryan scowled, and slammed the barrel of his side arm across her face. "Wrong answer bitch. Who are you working for, and what coupe are you talking about?"

He kept pressure on, not releasing, while contemplating the invasion comment. Fortier had mentioned that this was only in support of a freindly government, and that down low they were shooting at the usual tangos. Not a military unit.

Robyn did her best to let her head roll with the blow but she couldn't move much and the front sight left a long gash along her cheek.

"Bastard! I'm trying to help stop the damn coupe! Look, knock me out if you have to but damn it some one needs to keep watch on the upper floor where they're holding the President.!...Please!" She could just see her oversight spot, and the closed cell foam pad she had been lieing on. Robyn made sure her eyes went to it, so her captor would, hopefully follow her eyes. Next to the pad lay a repeater to extend the radio range, a precission sighting optical system, and a Colt .45, and a couple of spare mags. No long arm insight.

Then she continued, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice "My name is Robyn, I guaduated this year from TMA, with a degree in Intellegence, and I work for the Tanaran Directorate of Intellegence...or I did untill about forty eight hours ago when the Director started his attempt to take over the government. My friends are down there dieing trying to get inside, but the Hexx is keeping them pinned down...oh! you're Imitoran?...or thats what your unit patches tell me."

Robyn hadn't graduated at the top of her class for nothing, and memory finally brought up matches on the sniper's unit patches.

Ryan supressed a grin. "Bout god damned time you said somthing usefull." He looked her over once more, then slid the UMAC back into the thigh holster, locking it shut. "Just stay the hell outa my way," he said, sliding his knee of her throat.

He stood off her, but didn't help her up. Instead, he turned, sliding the custom rifle off his back, and pulling it into his chest. He popped a magazine of .338 Lapua jacket hollow point, and trotted over to the edge. He popped open the lense covers, and dropped to a knee, and then to a prone position next to her blanket. He sighted in the target, a man with what looked to be a light machine gun, more of a squad support weapon, laying down suppressive fire on Robert and Connor. He inhaled, holdiong his breath, letting his pulse slow, so that the blood flowing through his hand wouldn't throw off the shot. He exhaled slowly, and squeezed, the rifle barking loud as it sent pinpoint accurate lead death screaming through the air into the man. The round impacted above his sternum, knocking him back, blood spraying out in a fine mist from a hole in his chest.

He racked the bolt hard, setteling in a round, and turned, looking over at Robyn. "Well, are ya gonna get your ass over here and spot for me or what?"

Down below, the Imitorans were pinned by the sheer over power in numbers. Hoot had taken a shot that men and women in the ICMC had loveingly dubbed a singe, a round grazing over his skin. However, for Hoot, it had grazed his neck, causing the burning sensation to be amplified. However, he had returned the favor by way of a chest full of 6.7mm BTHP. Robert and Connor were still pinned, while three of the other operators continued to exhchange fire with the Tanaran SpecOps operators.

"Well, are ya gonna get your ass over here and spot for me or what?"

Robyn glared at him as she threw herself next to him and postioned herself at the massive tripod mounted scope.

"You seem to be doing fine without me...Shit! What freq are you all using!" Her hand groped for the commo set up.

The scope enabled her to easily see Hexx's forces moving to encircle the Imitorans.

"Tell them to break west, the ring is thinest there. My people must have all moved round the end of the building. I don't see any of our markers, just regular military Tanaaran IIF beacons."

Over head the fast burner began it's duel with the MH-60I

Ryan repeated what she said, word for word, relaying the info to the rest of his team on the ground. He spotted one Tanaran moving towards Hoot, and squeezed, the large calibre JHP round slamming into the side of the man's head, everything from his neck up disapearing into a cloud of red mist. He worked the bolt, and watched for another easy kill.

Bear watched as the Harrier like aircraft moved in, and cursed. The MH-60Is were light assault helicopters, not jets, and wern't suited for air combat. Instead of sticking around, he radioed that he was bugging, and banked the chopper down, screaming at full power away from the fight while blasting no more than 15 feet over the highest obstacles, pumping chaff and flares every few seconds to clear his tail.

Back on teh roof, Ryan, never taking his eyes off the fight, slid his hand down his leg to a rear mounted pouch on his vest, and pulled out a flimsy, collar like object, and handed it to Robyn. He clicked it on, and pointed to her throat. "Single line comms. No actual radio waves, minimal chance of interception. Just put it on your throat, and talk normally."

He then handed her a small inner ear style ear phone with a tight curled black wire that plugged into the throat mike.

"Janet, have you found anything of interest yet?"

*Nothing but some bodies Ruben. I think another of our tems must have hit Hexx's boys, there's big fire fight going on out where we were but I can't make out who exactly they are, and the supression system in here is playing hob with our communications.*

Janet replied as she found herself on the ground floor. A few corpses were scattered about, and she as pretty sure they had been part of the President's protective detail. She hadn't come across any one living yet, and the last information they'd had put the President on one of the upper floors. Where they weren't exactly certain

*Want us to regroup here? We might have a chance of hitting Hexx from behind*

****************************************

Down below Merrideath growled orders into her commo system. She didn't know yet who'd hit her men from behind but they were good. Her men had the advantage of knowing the terrain and had moved to encircle the new comers. She'd just gotten a good look at the new team through her night vision scope and a report of a military chopper that WASN'T Tanaaran when another of her operative, a wide rangeing scout reported he'd found where the those they'd been taking on -part of Golightly's counter coup force- had disappeared to.[/i]

*Some sort of escape tunnel, I think it leads directly into the sub basement.*

*We needed a way in any way.* Merrideath clicked over to general frequency *Leave these intruders in the dust man, smoke and mirrors, home in on the Padre*

Her men complied like the highly trained tema they were, and one by one they disengaged and began working thei way around to the far side of the building. A few left welcoming presents behind them

***************************************

Robyn reached out to take the commo system from Ryan, sliding it about her neck, then reaching back to see what had thumped against her neck. Her eyes went huge as she looked at the black tactical rop in her nad and folowed it up to the nearly silent chopper above.

"Over!" She roared at the man beside her, as she scooped up the 45 and the Tannaaran commo system. She dove over the side, seeming intent on commiting suicide as a round tore through the place where she'd been laying

She landed some ten feet below in the windowwashers platform. She bounced, then slid sidways nearly going out from under the safety rails, but catching herself with a deathgrip around the middle one. The stinger missile stayed solidly where she'd stashed it when she first arrived on the roof top. Scrabbling hard she pulled herself back on to the floor, sobbing with the pain as the ribs she'd broken the day before protested strongly.

"Want us to regroup here? We might have a chance of hitting Hexx from behind."

Ruben considered his options for the moment. It was very possible that his team was the only one of many Holly had dispatched to get inside the government building. He still wasn't clear as to what exactly was going on save that some sort of coup was occuring. It would be best to continue and try and eliminate the enemy from behind, as Janet suggested.

"Sure, we'll be there within a few minutes then we'll head off and see who we can find to shoot in the back."

With that Ruben signalled to the remaining members of his group to follow quickly and quietly, weaving through the elaborate halls, some of which were littered with corpses of charred from small explosions. Within minutes they reached the main foyer, a marble floored room where it seemed most of the combat had taken place. Janet was standing at the stairs.

"Hmm, this was messy..."

Ryan spun, and saw the helicopter comming to a hover, the black assault lines being kicked out. He swore, and looked at Robyn going over the edge. "Oh fuck this," he said, bringing his rifle up to his shoulder. The first man comming down the ropes appeared for a moment, before the loud crack signaled his demise. The .338 round slammed into him, just under his arm pit, exploding out the other side, and he fell from the rope, landing with a sickening thud.

He saw the Stinger man portable sitting on the rafter, and was about to call for it, when his ear piece clicked. "Hey, this is Papa Bear, Im gonna need to bug I gotta bandit on the six."

Ryan thought fast. "Bear, swing by the main building, we got a present for ya!" he shouted then swung the rifle around again. He knew he had two rounds left in it, and squezed off one haphazerdly, the chopper swinging around so the pilot could see him. Men were starting to descend down the ropes when he squeezed again, the .338 screaming from his rifle through the plexiglass windshield into his face. The helicopter began to spin out of control as Ryan launched himself over the edge of the building to the scafolding. He looked at the grimacing RObyn, and pointed to the Stinger. "Get it ready," he shouted, pulling a five round magazine out of his vest, and slapping it into the bolt action rifle. He worked the action, and crouched down.

Robyn looked at Ryan like he was fucking nuts, as the tail rotor of the helicopter hit the roof, sending up a shower of sparks and tearing part of the assembly away. The massive craft slewed about.

"No way yet!" She screamed as she brought up the .45 and proceeded to put several rounds in to the platforms control pannel. For the space of a second nothing happened, giving Robyn a chance to toss the pistol aside and grab on to the rails with one hand and Ryan with the other

Then as stability dropped out from under them, the lines unreeling so fast that of a split second the pair floated, the bulbus nose of the helicopter slammed into the edge of the rooftop and burst explosively into flame.

The fireball engulfed the soldiers still aboard, throwing some of them free as flame wreathed unguided missiles. Chunks of metalic and other debris were propelled in all directions, deadly shrapnell.

Robyn screamed a wild rebels yell as they all but free fell down the side of the building, a drop of over thirty stories.

Ryan gripped the edges of the falling platform, shouting in excitement the entire way down. The air screaming past him ripped his hair up wildly, and he held tight onto his rifle. They were still falling when Bear swung the chopper around and started heading towards the shootout.

"There," Ryan shouted as the platform slowed in descent. "The jet behind the chopper, it needs to go down"

By the time Ruben and the rest of the team had arrived at Janet's position she informed them that the the fire fight outside had moved areound the cormer of the wing they were in.

"I caught a bit of radio traffic on our freq. They found the same bolt hole that we used. So they'll becoming in behind us. But apparently there is an Imitoran black ops team out there engaging them."

The rest of the team looked a baffeled by that a she did. Most of them knew where the island nation of Imitora was by had no idea why a black ops team would be here.

"Unless they've been brought in by Hexx.." A thin woman growled under her breath.

"And what they just changed sides?" One of the men asked with a snort.

"Well I've got some more news." Janet added. Close to the massive wall of windows her commo system had functioned enough, despite the supressor security system, to give her a fair update.

"The President is on the top floor being held by Morgan. Apparently he's waiting for Hexx to get there and do the actual assassination. Don't know why though, he never quibbled about doing his own wet work in the old days."

She relayed more information to Ruben and the group.

"Holly says we're the only group that has made it inside. We need to stop Hexx from getting there and get the President out of Morgan's hands."

"How do you want to handle this Ruben? The Imitorans might take down all of Hexx's group before they catch up to us, but I doubt it."

****************************************

The special ops team led by Merrideath Hexx faded away from the Imitoran's, without losing any more men in the process. However they wre only able to inflict light wounds on the Imitorans.

The scout who was the first down the escape tunnel took two rounds center of mass but the full battle tactical armor he was wearing, as were all his team, stopped the rounds. The barricade that Rubem's man hid behind was not as sturdy and the dark haired middle aged man fell under a hail of return fire.

***********************************.

Robyn nearly fell out of the platfrom again as it jolted to a stop with a tremendous bounce. She landed so hard that dhe felt the patella of her right kneee shatter and she screamed with the crippling pain. Two deep whooping breaths later she was lifting the stinger to her shoulder as tears ran unheeded down her face.[/i]

"Get down out of the back wash or it'll will fry you" She screamed as the tone warbbled for a second then changed to lock on aquired as she put the targeting reticule on the Tanaaran jet.

Then she fired and the ground to air missile tore away. Scant seconds later the jet rivaled the helicopter for a dazzeling display of explosive pyro technics. However this was not before the Tanaaran craft manged to put rounds into the MH-60I, doing enough damage that Bear would be foreced to set down almost immediately.

The round that hit the helicopter slid right through the tail boom, implanting itself into a wall of a near by building. The christmas tree of lights in the helicopter cockpit lit up, flashing yellow, red, and orange hues in the dark cockpit. Bear swore, pulling hard on the collective as his navigator copilot too fought to bring the bird around.

The hydraulic assembly that powerd the tail rotor had been hit, and lost pressure almost imidiately. without the counter rotating force of the tail rotor, the torque of the main rotor pulled the helicopter into a hard spin. Bear and his copilot fought to stable the bird, and did so, but it wasn't going anywhere but down. He hit the fuel cut off switch, dumping 90% of the aircraft fuel out of the chopper so that it wouldn't explode if a spark it. The remaining 10% was used to provide just enough power to allow Bear to aim for a soft spot. Soft, of course, being a relative term.

The chopper hit the ground hard, slidding to a stop not more than twenty yards from the Imitoran assault team. The unit quickly fell back to the helicopter, surrounding it and holding up inside, using the thick metal as cover. Bear was fine, the shock absorbers and hydrolic locks in his seat sending most of the impact away from him. The copilot, save a broken leg, was fine as well.

Bear pulled himself out of his seat, and grabbed the H&K MP10 from a seat mount, and handed it to the copilot. He in turn grabbed a UMAC version of the M14 rifle, and took up a cover position as well. Finally out of the assault of the Tanarans, the unit medic went to work on Connor. His wounds weren't horrible, but enough to take him out of action for the fight.

Ryan looked down, the scafolding had held a mere ten feet above the ground/. He grabbed his rifle, and slowly extended himself over the edge. Still hanging, he had decreased the fall distance from ten feet to four, and let go, allowing his knees to bend to absorb the impact. He pulled his rifle over his shoulder, and drew his .45. "Need help or can you pull it off?" he asked Robyn.

"Need help or can you pull it off?"

"I felt the patella shatter, and the joint's dislocated. I'm not going anywhere quickly." Robyn shook her head as she tried to stand and managed it only with useing the scaffolds railing for support. Biteing her lips she managed to not pass out with the pain. She looked across the way to where the Imitoran helicopter had made it down in relative safety. The lighting on the grounds was spotty, many of the pole lights having been shot out, but there was enough to see dim figures moving

"Your chopper went down not that far away, just across the spread of the lawn in front of the capitol building. You go on, get back with your people. I'll try and get back in contact with mine and let them know that friendlies are coming."

"I really an begining to think this dance was meant to be held with out me." She grumbled, with a wry look at the Imitoran Special Ops sniper.

"Suit yourself," Ryan said, then turned towards the downed Blackhawk, and began jogging over. He held his .45 low, and kept his eyes moving, looking for any left over shooters. He reached the downed bird, and slid in next to the other men. He holstered his pistol, and pulled the rifle off his back, and began scanning for targets. "So whats the deal?"

"Well," Hoot spoke up, the barrel of his SAW sweeping for anymore shooters, "we jumped them, took some down, they backed off down a sewer or somthing, can't really tell."

"Not gonna chase either," Fortier chimed in. "They probably left a few goodies for us there too. Don't wanna get our shit jacked this late." He pointed his rifle at a shaddow, but it turned into nothing. "What about you?"

"We're not the only ones on this. Ran into someone up top on that roof. She was hurt bad from some other fight, but they're, whoever they are, is on our side."

"Didn't pop her?"

"Nah, she had a spotting scope, worked targets for me."

"Was she hot?" another Marine chimed

"A piece of ass is a piece of ass."

The group laughed, and Fortier back walked closer to Hoot. "Alright, so any idea's how were getting out of this?"

"How do you want to handle this Ruben? The Imitorans might take down all of Hexx's group before they catch up to us, but I doubt it."

Ruben cursed lightly under his breath as he thought over their current predicament. It was certainly one messed up situation and Ruben didn't like it one bit, there were too many factors not under his control. Of course the mark of a successful person was the abilitiy to deal with such factors.

"Right. The way I figure it, we need to stop these Hexx guys before they get anywhere near the President. If the fighting gets too close this Morgan guy might do the deed himself. We need to eliminate Hexx down here and worry about the President later."

Loading another clip into his gun, Ruben checked his weapon before returning his attention to the others.

"I say we take them before they even get out of that basement."

At that point the comm sparked to life as gunfire and a frantic voice screamed over the radio frequency, alerting the group that the enemy had entered the building.

"Shit, we need to act quiclky. You guys good to go?"

*Hey Ryan, tell your asshole buddies not to shoot me, damn it. I'm coming past* Robyn's voice harsh with pain came over the Imitoran's commo system.

*Hexx and her dogs o' war have gone after Ruben's team.* Robyn had lucked out and found what every Tanaaran considered invaluable from time to time - duct tape - in the supply bin of the windowwashers scaffold. It hurt like hell but a thick enough layering acted as a makeshift splint for her destroyed knee.

And she was all there was to act as the pincer for the team already in the capitol building. She couldn't stop to rest, not with so much at stake.

***********************************

"Shit, we need to act quiclky. You guys good to go?"

The replies came with out hesitation, and the group began moving back the way they had just come. They all knew that the odds of stopping Hexx's special ops forces ws slim but they had to try.

The replies came with out hesitation, and the group began moving back the way they had just come. They all knew that the odds of stopping Hexx's special ops forces ws slim but they had to try.

Ruben's group arrived at the closed door leading down to the basement now containing several well armed enemies. Evidently the man left behind was now dead and Ruben couldn't worry himself with that, he had others to keep alive.

"Alright. There's probably a lot more of them and they'll have bigger guns, but we have surprise and space. We don't have any explosives unfortunately but they're going to be walking up a confined space, making it easier to hold them back. Blast the first guys that open that door and send them back down, then everyone try and get as much fire down those stairs as you can before they realise what's going on."

As silence fell over the group the door opened slightly, allowing the man behind to gain a slight glance of the hallway. No one seemed to be there. Opening it wider, the unfortunate soldier came across Ruben's G36 barrel as it launched a single bullet through his brain, sending him back down the stairs and crashing into his comrades.

"Now!"

Robyn made it in a staggering half run to the chopper where the Imitoran's gathered.

"Any one care to do an Alice in Wonderland?...And any one have any extra clips of .45?" Her voice was harshly impatient, pain filled - she was running on pure adrenaline, and the young Tanaaran kept glancing towards the Capitol building.


Her hair was in wild disarray, smeared with blood from the gash that Ryan' s pistol had opened on her face. And one arm of her shirt was sodden with blood where yesterdays bullet wound had reopened with a vengance. The thick layering of duct tape his the damange to her knee

*****************************************

Ruben's people fired with a will, if not the greatest accuracy. They weren't combat trained troops mostly, and many of their rounds missed, but helped keep up a fullisade of fire that kept Hexx's troops from gaining the doorway for the moment.

Then in a rush they ere there and past the pincer point of the door, taking down three of Ruben's small group, and making it into the larger area and behind cover