NationStates Jolt Archive

The Black Patriarch Viraranar of the Viziqu-taar sect would like to extend a challenge to all Hunters, Hitmen, and Assasins looking to make money, whether they be independant or government forces. Although we can easily do this ourselves, we would be interested in looking at how others do their job, so that we may assimilate their knowledge. Here is the list:

Legend:
***** = Difficulty level. The higher the level, the harder to kill. Each star is worth 10,000 dollars.
Green/ Yellow/ Red = Sneakiness and Cunning level. Green is least, Red is most. Green is 50k, while Yellow is 100k, while Red is 200k.

TARGETS:
1) Mr. Helic (In Naharahk) ** ELIMINATED - PARCHMENT STILL NEEDED
2) Massla Threstin *
3) LOCKED ***
4) LOCKED ****
5) LOCKED **
6) LOCKED *****
7) LOCKED *****

OOC: I will be RPing the targets. Whoever technically corners the target I RP will be paid the prize. No godmoding, no special powers. MT only. You can Role Play when I'm not here, but you cannot say I'm dead until I reply and confirm it.

Technically, this is like a free for all chase. You don't need to introduce yourself, but it could be helpful. You can just buy a plane ticket to the location if you want.

OOC: TAG. The HCIA's top agent (though you won't know he's HCIA), Delta One, will take this job, working freelance.

IC:

Encrypted Transmission

I'll take your job. Give me some more info and some good prices and we'll talk more.

--Delta One

End Encrypted Transmission

"Hehehe" Chas messaged a small telegram to The Black Patriarch Viraranar of the Viziqu-taar
"I am Chas, one of the top ten assasins in Karaska...I am interested in your challenge, please brief me on more information"
Chas smiled and dug into his sofa 'Things just might get interesting here...'

The Watchers Council has sent it's usual contingent of men to moniter these events.

From the Desk of Viraranar, Leader of the Black Patriarchs
The first task, is Mr. Eugene Helic, from the province of Naharahk. His name is well known in the circles of underworld arms-dealing, and Saerus Annirak has had constant conflicts against his forces. While Saerus himself has eliminated his coup, and his organization in a single clean sweep, crushing crime, Mr. Helic has cunningly added around 3 exact duplicates, decoys that have been posing as him willingly. Only one of the decoys have been killed. While I could send my men after him, I do not have the military permission to hunt down a seemingly innocent man; Mr. Helic is good at covering his tracks, nothing else. He is a tall, straw haired man, usually adorning a white suit. He is needed either dead, as a corpse of warning, or alive, as an information asset. He may go without a fight, if he all alone. He was last seen in Dreidas, in Naharahk.

Price for Dead: $70,000
Price for Alive: $140,000

Quetzal sat behind his rediculously luxurious desk, on his new yacht, browsing his contacts.

God I have too much money. I need to work more. The tedium is driving me mad...

Then he got a hit. Reading it quickly, he smiled, and sent a response.

--Mr. Virarinar,

Allow me to introduce myself. I am Quetzal, an assassin of no little skill. I have seen your most generous offer, and would like to accept. I would appreciate it if you could send me more information on my first target at your earliest convenience.

Yours,
Quetzal

OOC: Damn my poor timing!

IC: Quetzal had his answer. Calling his travel agent, he booked the soonest flight to Dreidas.

Encrypted reply - Code Black.

From: Unknown officer.

Mr Ikari will take the job. Please transfer all documents regarding the job via scrambled line to 045874-555-4574 he has already been dispatched and is on route to the area of operation Mr Ikari has two Rules, no women, no kids, all other targets are acceptable

End Encrypted reply

OOC: You guys can get ready...I'll start RPing Helic's run soon enough tommorrow.

Piglatnia, itching to test there military is sending a top team of snipers and a few surprises, be warned some civilians might be hurt if extreame need is found to secure the bounty. (this is not likely to hapen as it might involve losing some of our own)

please provide some sort of tacticle map of the suspected area the team will arive secreatly to civilians but we will need some air clearence for the drop. also any information on any organizations he is curently in or is suspected to be in would help (churches or other "civilian" groups would also be apreciated)

Mr Ikari got off the Plane, it was luxury flight only the best for Mr Ikari, in actuality "Mr Ikari" was an alias for a woman who had many names, her current one of Keeping was Kara, she had that name for a long time. She had used that name before she became someone else trying to give up her ways but old soldiers die hard they say and so she found herself back in the assassin business, she craved the excitement, the adventure…the blood. She had short hair again now cut boyishly but with a fringe, more like the person she was before when she used this name not like the weak person she became. Computer analyst she thought if only they knew.

Kara had a unique way of doing things, usually hard, fast and with a high body count. She wasn't the stealthiest assassin on the market but she always got the job done and may the gods help anyone in her way. She slowly decided the small escalator into the terminal building. It was white and mostly glass, very pretty she added. Making a mental note of all exists and escapes routs for later…in case she needed to make a flashy exist. She made a glance at her bags as they went through the automated customs X-ray scanner, bags were fine and the weapons were in a lead lined secret part of her suitcase. As the bags went through without incident she went through customs entering the country as Kara Cornelio a tourist. As soon as she was through customs she picked up her bags and headed for the nearest ladies bathroom, entering the facility she found an empty cubical and locked the door. Putting the seat down she placed her case upon it and popped the lid. Inside were at least 3 wigs and 3 different outfits, as well as passports, driver's licences, Birth certificates and all other documents you'd need to maintain at least three fake identities. Stripping down to her underwear she put on a yellow blouse and skirt that looked more like a sundress and a wig, which was auburn in colour, and shoulders length wavy using a small makeup mirror she adjusted the wig until it was right. After applying some makeup she now looked like an entirely different person, she was now "Fake ID person number 1 - Jennifer Airheart". 'Jennifer' removed one of her 9mm pistols from the weapons compartment, loaded it and put it in the hem of her skirt which was tight around her waist covering the item with the bottom of her blouse. Putting her old outfit, documents and makeup mirror back in the suitcase case she existed the bathroom and the airport without anyone being the wise, just the way she liked it.

Quetzal stepped down from the plane, looking around for his ride. Finally, he found the man he was looking for. Short, chubby, and now rich, the man who was currently going by the moniker Greg Albers had helped him out before, supplying gear in Quetzal's early days, and more recently, helping on a series of kills that had netted the pair over three billion dollars.

"Dave! Long time no see! How's the millionaire's life treating you?"

"Not bad, Greg. Boring as hell though. You?"

"Same old, same old. Invested a bunch of it, put it to work for me, made sure I'd always have enough to live off of."

"How the hell are you gonna spend a billion dollars?! I've barely scratched mine!"

"Oh, here and there. Buying yachts, mansions, priceless artefacts. That sort of thing. Then there's always the kids to look out for."

"...Kids?"

"You didn't hear? I could have swore Maggie sent you an invitation to the shower."

"I never got one!"

"Would you have come anyway? I didn't think you're a big fan of that sorta thing."

Quetzal grimaced. "I'm not. Good point. Thanks for not sending me one."

"Thanks for not minding."

Stepping into the car, Quetzal smiled. It was good to be home.

_____________________

As the car pulled into the drive, Greg finally had the nerve to ask what the job was.

"It's a challenge from a man by the name of Viraranar. There's a few million involved. I know, chump change, but it gets me off my ass and back in the business. First kill is a Mr. Eugene Helic."

"Sounds interesting. I'll call around, find where this Helic fellow is. Oh, and my usual fee."

"You'll get your twenty five percent, don't worry."

"Good. I have the kids to worry about, don'tcha know."

As confirmation came the airplane started its decent. The plan was that two members of the team would enter normaly via a privite jet while the other two took another plane to the very out skirts of towns.

Termion and Thyle exited the airport in a costom made limo named the VTS-R7. Termoin was posing as a wealthy buisness man hopefully looking for a new food to put in his restruants. Thyle had the less extravogent role of the shofer and butler, but his role was most exciting if all went well he would set up the kill.

Quetzal walked into the house. Looking around he could see that Maggie and the kids weren't home yet. Good. He still had time to make a call.

Dialing a number his acquaintence had given him, he called Delta One.

OOC: Seeing if you want to work together. We did semi-discuss this before, after all.

Almost at the same time the other pair droped from the plane. They unfortunatly had the boring task of keeping an exit open but they also got the surprise a nice little tuck with several kilos of c4 secretly hiden in the truck. This was the last resort option, to be used only if there was no other choice. while one in the truck headed for a road the other started off toward the city, he was to shadow the first pair and stop any atempt on their lives

OOC: The team is open to anything that might hapen which includes death by other mercs or asasins but the team leader must survive at least to relay a mesage to the homeland of failure.

OOC: Seeing if you want to work together. We did semi-discuss this before, after all.

OOC: Am i missing something because i don't remember discusing that but i am open to it the national tacticle strikes and out-of-nation excursions department has its own web site where a secure email acount has been set up and screened for purposes like this.

tag. We may look into this. But it would be a waste of our talents

As theyl entered the hotel carying the bags he wondered if military life was what he realy should be doing, he signed up because he wanted to see the world but this was his first out of nation excursition. It wasn't like he was in experianced he was almost the oposite he was more experianced then the rest because he was first a body gaurd for the president. He switched branches because no one ever atempted any thing against the president and sitting in a car for 12 hours to make sure no one put anything funny on or near it wasn't what he signed up for.

When they finaly got up to there room they went over there intelegence that they gathered so far. It wasn't much but they were expecting a mesage containing everything they needed ounce the other team relaid they were in position. They first had to find someone conected with there target so they could at least know where he frequented.

___________________________________________________________
If anyone wants to combine our efforts please telegraph me and i will try to get back to you by tomarrow.

OOC: Am i missing something because i don't remember discusing that but i am open to it the national tacticle strikes and out-of-nation excursions department has its own web site where a secure email acount has been set up and screened for purposes like this.
Not you, Delta One. Quetzal and him have worked on the same job before, and have discussed working together. If Hal is going to be in on this, should be fun to team up for once.

PS: It's spelled tactical.

OOC: If anyone knows about Jenrak, unexplained civilian deaths result in lots and lots of armed forces on the perpetrator, so be careful. Making things go boom might be nice, but it could serve better to be quiet, and clean.

IC:

His fingers were frozen, his lips cut, blood dripping from his hands as he tried to pry the broken safe apart, his eyes tearing in pain as his blood trickled down his wrist and felt the warm gush of blood move through his arms, the coarse metal screw edging dangerously close to his veins, pulsating a pain he never knew. The things I do for success. He would often tell him, dilute himself with. But now, there was nothing to do but hide carefully, feel only the full brunt blade of justice upon him, for all the murders he did in the names of others. If only that never happened. He thought, about the intervention of the Ground Commander Annirak. Uncertain, and ruthless, did not mix with him. Still, he kept trying, knowing that he was safe, for now, hopefully.

One screw has fallen off, making a heavy and noisy clank on the metal grated floor, as the catwalk above him shook violently with the sands falling down into his balding head. He still kept holding, trying to loosen it, and finally it pried open. With a frantic laugh of triumph, Eugene took out the metal casing, and rummaged deeper into the safe, pulling out small wads of cash and a sleek black pistol, but something was missing: his face turned a violent shade of red. “Where is it?!” He asked quietly, as yelling was heard in the background. His men only had so little time, before the building would collapse. He rummaged, and rummaged, until he saw it; a large, scroll piece of parchment, crackled and crumpled, but he pocketed it and ran up the stairs, his feet pounding on the metal, until the supports drooped and the catwalk collapsed. “I win again.” He smiled and laughed maniacally, as he looked at the parchment held in his hands.

Kara drove along the streets, the car was a rental under her alias name, why waste a good fake drivers licence? She thought to herself turning a corner, she had also rented a room to keep her things…well most of her things. She smiled as she looked around, security in this country was high, this would need a special touch, her usual "go in and live nothing alive" style wouldn't work here but that was fine she liked a challenge. She got a lead on the man she was supposed to kill, a Eugene Hellic, she looked over the file one more time containing all the relevant information particularly the man's photo.

Her target is well known in the arms dealing circles, this is where she started, setting up a meeting with a local arms dealer, pulled up and parked outside a Café. Getting our of her rental car she entered the small coffee place and sat down with a newspaper, she had told her contact what to look to for he should arrive soon…

With a sleek smile, Eugene Helic thought that he deserved to have a single go for coffee, before finally going to the shadows forever. Stopping at a luscious Cafe, he sat in a soft and pimply chair, and ordered a tall cup of coffee. "I'll win this yet." He said, waiting, as he held the parchment heavily in his arms, a hat swung over his head.

Airspace above Jenrak, 1239 Local Time

A man named Nevil Clavain sat alone in the Gulfstream V's luxurious cabin, sipping a glass of a fine red wine, a 1986 Le Garde Burgundienne Cabernet-Sauvignon. He nodded appreciatively at the superb taste of the wine; it was one of his favorite vintages. He was dressed in a stylish, but not outlandishly so, business suit. A laptop computer was open on a desk nearby, along with a leather bag for it. Clavain was just another rich executive.

Few knew that Nevil Clavain didn't actually exist.

Clavain was a fiction spun by none other than Delta One for use as a cover identity. "Clavain" remembered not to imbibe too much, lest his facilities be completely useless for this job. It was small change compared to the Ceyolia hits he'd done some months before, but money was still money, and he'd take whatever he could get. He put the wine down, and reached for his laptop to review what little intel the HCIA had been able to throw together on the first target, one Eugene Helic. He was about to drag the laptop closer when his SATPhone went off. The number was not one he recognized. Frowning, but instantly alert, he picked it up.

"This is Clavain. Who am I speaking to?"

Eugene sipped his coffee, but it was too hot for his cut lips, and he sighed, quietly, and carefully, but tried to stay as casual as he could, while still remaining normal. It was no doubt that Viraranar wanted him to die, but he never did see a single Black Patriarch, Matriarch, go after him. It was unnerving, and made him doubt his own skills of detection. Still, for safety, he kept a pistol in the back of his jeans, and a knife in his pocket.

OOC: Wow... I'll be sure to get in on the next target.

from a little way off the brute of a man 'Axeblood' watched the proceedings with interest, he wasn't interested in 'the target' particularly, he prefered more interesting game, he watched and waited, with amusement at times as events unfolded, he would strike when the time was right, and not before. untill then he would watch.....

OOC: Bump. So far no one's tried to go after him yet...

OOC: Is it too late to join in?
edit: And does an increased IQ/thinking ability count as a special power?

[OOC: Otagia, I'm going to move Delta One along, but I'd be more than willing to have him work with Quetzal on this. Just call him back when he lands. To everyone else, I'm going to use "Clavain" and "Delta One" interchangeably, but most of the time I'll use Clavain when he's undercover and Delta One in secure settings and when he's doing hits.]

There was no answer. Clavain looked at the phone, frowning, then hung up. He sipped his wine again, while the pilot of the Gulfstream "did the landing dance" with Control. As plane lost altitude, Clavain assumed they had gained landing permission. Sure enough, they touched down on the runway minutes later. No Customs official came out to check the plane; either security at this small private airfield was lax, or they'd been bribed by the HCIA or someone else. Either way, it would ensure there were no "unnecessary entanglements" with Customs over the...peculiar items in this executive's baggage.

These "items" included Clavain's tried-and-true .338 Lapua Magnum Mini-Hecate sniper rifle, a silenced MP5A4, two silenced .50AE Desert Eagles, a Bowie knife, and a variety of "specialty" rounds for the Mini-Hecate, including incendiary and high-explosive rounds. Clavain had the MP5 in a shoulder holster concealed under his large trench coat and the .50AEs in the inside pockets of the coat. The dissassembled Mini-Hecate and rounds resided in a nondescript briefcase whose interior was lined with a thin layer of a classified X-ray-fooling substance, hidden beneath the interior lining of the briefcase.

Clavain deplaned, pulled out his cell phone, got Information, and got the number of a limo service. The limo arrived 15 minutes later, and Clavain hopped in, headed towards a five-star hotel in the downtown area of the capitol of Naharahk.

OOC: If you're talking about being annoyingly in tune with things, no. If you're talking about psychic powers, the ability to read minds or automatically knowing things without proof, then yes.

OOC: I mean like an enhanced thinking ability - higher IQ, tactical thinking, rapid calculation. To me, that doesn't seem to be some 'power' in any way.

OOC: Well, doesn't sound like a power to me. If it later becomes classified as a power, I'll tell you.

OOC: Then I can still send in me assassin-type guy? :D

OOC: Sure. Let's put the OOC talk to a minimum, though.

James Brown, formerly E-092, was sitting in his apartment when the doorbell rang. He walked off of the balcony and into the living room. He tried to remember the way to the door in this huge apartment. He finally remembered, and made his way to the door, after the person waiting had rung it 3 times in a row. He opened it, and a man stood in front of him, holding a telegram and a small brown package. "Um, yes?" "Telegram for Mr. Brown." "Uh, I'm him," James spoke slowly. "Here you are." "Thank you," he replied. The man walked away, and James closed the door. He turned around, and after a minute walked into his bedroom. He sat on the bed, and began reading the telegram. It contained info on a Mr. Hellic, who had a dead-or-alive bounty of sorts on his head. "Hmmm...." He opened the package, and leafed through the stuff inside. A document, and sheaf of papers, and a little binder with more papers. "Such a waste of trees," he thought to himself with a chuckle. He examined them, and his chuckle turned to a low 'hmmmm'. More info on the guy. Much more info. He began studying it. He thought for a while, piecing things together in his mind. He thought a few moments more, then decided...
*10 hours later, Above Naharahk*
James sat in his private jet, a Learjet 45 extensively modified. He was watching a movie on the screen in front of him. He was thinking over the job again. He would go in, under the alias of Kevin Doraant, a middle-class SkyCapt businessman. In his suitcase sat a week's worth of clothing, and in his carry-on baggage, two P-42 Silenced Spec Ops pistols sat, ready to go. A disassembled Gauss Rifle was in his other suitcase, something he had been allowed to keep. A sniper attachment sat with it, and he turned his attention back to the TV screen...
*Naharahk*
Kevin Doraant stood on his hotel room balcony, looking out over the streets below. He turned back inside, and locked the door. He sat down on the bed, and strapped on his dual shoulder holster. He slipped in his P-42's, after loading them. The pistols beared some phyisical semblance to the Colt.45, but that was where the similarities ended. The semi-long slender pistols were good up to medium ranges, and were he was most proficient with them. James Brown walked out of the room. Kevin Duraant walked into the streets, slipping on sunglasses. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, and began his methodical search for info on Mr. Hellic...

OOC: Jenrak, this is quite a man-hunt. Helic should be dead soon, so I'll catch the next one. ;)


IC: Looking off the balcony of his lavish French Villa, Carson Lee admired the sparkling surface of the calm Mediterranean. His last job had paid for the villa, and it was worth every penny. A warm breeze caressing his face, he began typing nimbly on his Sony Laptop, a live feed from a hidden camera loading. 10%. They can clone animals but they can't make my damn connection run any faster. An associate, Scott Vetira, had tipped him off about a target, a Eugene Helic. Of course he knew Helic, they were acquaintances from long ago and Carson still had a few of the weapons he had sold him. There was no bad blood between the two of them, but that wouldn't have stopped him from killing Helic anyways. Business was business was business; it made no difference to Carson. Hell, he would have killed Helic already if his associate hadn’t told also told him of the half-dozen assassins also vying for the job. Even if Carson could have made it in time, he would have had to take out his competition AND the target. Killing nearly six other assassins on a job was not good business, and Viraranar couldn't have paid him enough. Viraranar. The name echoed in Carson's mind. Why he wanted Helic dead so badly, he did not know, but it was no matter. The Sony's screen flickered to life and the feed was playing. Vetira was in a hotel across from a Cafe where Helic and one of the assassins was, filming what promised to be one hell of a show. Kara, an old flame, was already in the Cafe. She was sitting only three tables from Helic, but he didn't seem to notice. Carson gave Vetira strict instructions to only kill Helic if Kara's life was in danger. He wanted to see how his ex-lover would handle the situation, and if she was still up for such a job after this long.

Meanwhile, Scott Vetira was armed with a webcam and a sniper rifle, waiting for disaster to ensue. Vetira had gotten a tip from a contact of his about this hit. Not taking any chances, he booked a room in a hotel across from the supposed meeting point a week in advance. Stake outs were fun for him. Patience. That was his mantra; he would watch and wait. Vetira knew how much his friend cared for Kara, and was willing to protect her on his orders. Who knows? He might even get paid for it. Not much, but every little bit helps.

Brown was in his head E-092. He began by looking around the supposed hang-out's of Hellic. He at the end of the day he knew enough to begin the search for Hellic himself. But no. Brown wanted to know everything about his target. By the end of tomorrow, he would know everything, from the time he went to bed, to what he ate for breakfast. His patience and work was paying off.

OOC: There's a connection to all these targets, so you'll understand it soon enough once it's all over. Remember there's still 6 more after Helic's killed, so when a target is eliminated, don't leave yet...

IC:

Finally, the coffee was a soft shade of a warm brown, and he finally sipped the cup up, until not a single flavourable drop remained. Standing up, slapping a 5 dollar bill on the table, he walked out of the store, the parchment still in his hand, and he pocketed it carefully.

"What the hell?" Carson wondered out loud. He whipped out his Nokia and began dialing Vetira. Kara just let her mark walk right out of the Cafe, and he witnessed it all on camera. Busy signal. Reluctantly, Carson hung up, only to have his phone ring immediately. "Yes?" he growled. "Hey, its Scott," his friend replied, "Helic just left." "No shit!" Carson retorted: he was very irritated now. "So, should I nick him?" Carson paused for a moment and decided, "No, let him go. He isn't worth it. Besides, Kara may still have something up her sleeve." And with that, he terminated the conversation and hung up the phone. What was she getting at by letting him leave?

Downtown Naharahk, 1427 Local Time

Clavain had already checked into his tenth-floor hotel room, and hidden his sniper rifle so that it would not be easily found. He had transferred the intel on Hellic to his Blackberry, so that he would appear to be a normal executive strolling the streets. Armed with his MP5A4 and dual silenced .50AEs, Clavain walked out of the hotel and began his impromptu patrol around downtown Naharahk, searching for Hellic.

When they got what they were waiting for they imedeatly set into action, in a matter of minutes they were ready.

They had left the hotel because they had gotten their confirmation and needed to be out of the hotel when things happened. they left everything behind that they didn't need for there first stage, basicly clothes. They left out a back door to make sure it didn't look like they left to be sure they also left the do not disturb sign on the handle hoping that the maids actualy listened to those things. then they were on to stage 1 dinner and then they would visit some people.

OOC: if he has a religion or something like that it would help if i knew.

Scott Vetira's curiousity had gotten the best of him. Although on orders not to kill Helic, Vetira decided that following him couldn't hurt. He loaded a Colt Model 1903 Handgun and pocketed it. Quickly making his way to the streets of Naharak, Vertira walked in the direction of which Helic took upon exiting the Cafe. Being an assassin himself, he could easily pick his fellow hitmen out from a crowd. Two blocks ahead of him, Eugene Helic was being tailed by three other people. Assassins? Probably, he decided. As he made his way down the streets of the city, dodging pedestrians, a single thought entered Vetira's mind. This oughta be interesting.

Axeblood stood up from his table as the target left the cafe, he searched the room briefly with expert eyes, no one appeared to pay any heed to the target, 'shame' he thought to himself, he wandered out and looked up and down the street vaguly, and froze, his fists clenched in his poket, one arround a mini-9mm 'Anag-240' handgun the other arround his other weapon.... he'd spoted someone else unaware of his presence yet clearly fixed on watching the target, 'hmmm maybe a little more interesting than i thought'...... he wondered off aparently heading somewhere but keeping a watchfull eye on both target and the other follower.......

By strange odd coincedence Thermion and Thyle were passing a small cafe when they sighted some people that looked like they were all following one man this wouldn't have been strange except that the man they were following didn't seem to know it. Thermoin was just about to point it out when he realized Thyle had already seen it and had started to follow them in the limo. Thermoin pressed one numeral on his cell-phone and then started dialing the restruant. Dinner could wait this looked important.


Fred had just gotten to the hotel when he heared a beep. a grin spread across his face, then he began to climb. He was glad that they hadn't gotten a top floor room because it was realy windy that night.

Kevin Duraant had decided to rethink his plan. He walked out of the hotel, carrying his Blackberry. He hailed a taxi. He arrived at his destination, and noticed someone walking out of a Café. He squinted, then his eyes widened. "That has to be him." A taxi passed by just then, followed by a string of cars. When they left, Hellic was nowhere to be seen. Kevin cursed. He turned back into the restaurant, and sat down for dinner. So close. Yet so far. But there was tomorrow. Tomorrow, the planning would begin in earnest.

ooc: lmao... yea asif you'd all turn up at once

OOC: Lol.

Glancing casually over his shoulder, Vetira noticed another follower quite a distance behind. Damn, how many more people are in on this job? An idea had struck him as he remembered he was further armed. He had forgotten about a loaded Smith & Wesson Model 22A wedged between his waistband and abdomen. Having done this for years, the gun felt weightless and unobtrusive in it's hiding spot. Well, at least I am better armed than I planned He scanned the crowd once more, coming to the conclusion that even being within a few miles of Naharahk was dangerous, let alone following a known mark. Vetira considered his options, and further concluded it would be safest to continue his pursuit. For now at least. The things I get myself into...

ooc: lmao... yea asif you'd all turn up at once
OOC: hey it wierd but it the only thing i have to go on they realy need to work on there intelegence program, i like cold hard facts before i do or say anything and this is the closest i get.

OOC: I would just like to know, are there any other assassins planning to show up to kill this man? Lol, there is a small army following him and as you can see, Scott doesn't feel good about it.

:eek: :sniper:

The slight beep distracted his preping of the machine guns mounted in the car. but the distraction lasted only a second until he was back on task, they weren't realy going to use them for sure but you always need to be ready and anyways killing the mark wasn't what they realy wanted to do at the moment because it would be to messy and atention grabbing.

OOC: if anyone wants the specs on the limo for purposes just say so and i will tg you, i could also give you the storefront that helped in the design.

Clavain had spotted at least three suspicious-looking "civilians" while strolling the street, pretending to be talking to clients on his Blackberry. Other assassins, he thought to himself. I wonder if Quetzal's in on this job... Clavain continued to walk and talk, all the while discreetly continuing his patrol. No one would notice another executive walking the streets.

Brown had returned to his hotel room, after looking over potential sniping points. One good thing about being a former Elemental was excellent marksmanship. He had chosen a point overlooking the entry points to what was supposed to be a popular hangout for the arms dealer. He had found the place during his scouting. He was now in his room assembling his rifle, tightening every point, slowly fitting together the pieces. He added the sniper attachment, then put the gun in the closet. He locked the doors, and began getting ready for bed. Moments later he was in bed, thinking over hsi strategy. He finally went to bed, making sure nothing could go wrong. "The only thing that could go wrong," he said to himself, "is that he never comes. Ever." We turned over, and went to bed.

Assessing the situation carefully, with more than 3 other assassins on foot, and a suspicious limousine tailing the group, Vetira made the first move. Perhaps if he ended the chase, a deal could be cut between the plethora of hitmen. Jogging at an agile pace, he caught up to the target. Vetira slowed down and walked almost alongside the man, attempting to seem as if he was an ordinary citizen who spotted an old friend. He greeted Helic aloud and ordered him to keep walking, barely louder than a whisper. Vetira withdrew the gun from his waistband and pressed it firmly against Helic's back, remaining close as to prevent passerby from seeing him. He knew the other assassins had spotted him, and hoped they could work together to take down Helic. After all, none of them wanted to shoot the man in the middle of a busy street.

OOC: Lol, Vetira and the others will have to wait for Jenrak to come on-line... :p

Termoin had just realized that it would be pointless to follow him with only some car mounted machine guns so he decided to pull out and return to the hotel but these other people were to close. Termoin decided on the only thing that came to mind give there mark a warning. termoin quetly slid into the front pasenger seat put down the window and slowly eazed out the side mounted gun he locked it into place aimed and let one shot go high and to the right but the sound did what he needed. he then quikly droped the gun back into place while Thyle hit the excelorator and tried to dodge cars and fleeing pedestrians. total and utter chaos perfect but now they had to get to a rondevou point and change some noticable things on the car and the pasengers. they race off to the country.

Revelation struck Vetira like a ton of bricks. He kept Helic walking, the man showing just the slightest signs of fear. Scott knew that the limousine following them was most likely assassin filled. Helic was not his hit. He knew that, and Carson knew that. The last think Vetira wanted was to get involved at this point, and a way out showed itself to him. If he could force Helic into the limousine, the other assassins could handle the problem and he could go back to the hotel room and sleep. Vetira looked over his shoulder and tried to catch the drivers eye. He could only pray at this point that things would go as he planned. For now, however, he continued to lead the man down the street at gunpoint.

God Damn! The limousine passengers had fired off a shot and left the street in panic, fleeing the scene. He continued his forceful walk hoping another assassin would intervene.

ooc: lmao... yea asif you'd all turn up at once

OOC: Thus why I actually RP researching my target. Makes things a bit more realistic. Of course, due to EVERYONE getting rather lucky at once, I'm left in the dust. Ah well, there's always next kill.

And Nykibo? Never, EVER put a loaded pistol in your pants. Too many things that can go wrong, and too many things that can be blown off down there. Use a fragging concealed holster: shoulder, ankle, or arm holsters all work rather nicely.

A friendly reminder from the Society for the Protection of Penii.


IC: Quetzal looked up from his coffee as Greg entered the room.

"Any luck?"

"Well, the guy is apparently involved in the arms trafficking business. I have a few good friends there who are rather loose with their morals. A bribe or two in the right place should get our man right where we want him."

"Good. Set up a meet. And I want him outgunned severely. No playing hero here. He's worth plenty more alive."

"Gotcha, David. I'll call my friends right now."

OOC: I know well enough not to keep a loaded gun in my pants, but Scott Vetira doesn't necessarily. Imperfections for a perfect RP :)

Scanning the scene of chaos around him, Vetira realizes there is only a few assassins still giving the pair chase. Giving a slight inclination of his head towards Helic, he once again hopes the remaining assassins get the message. If no one reacts soon, Vetira will have to disobey his friend and kill Helic himself.

Thyle started quetioning his superior as soon as they left the imedeate scene but was quickly silenced when Termoin flashed him his phone they had got their package the only thing keeping them from stage 2. but they had to postpone because they needed to change their cars aperance after the unexpected move and now they had something to help them with stage 2 a simple little thing known as debt, and this was the biggest kind because their mark owed them his life.

Brown was looking out over the balcony. He couldn't go to sleep, so he had walked out here. He noticed a limo on the street. It looked suspicious... pop, pop pop pop pop "Oh heck!" The limo fired off shots, then sped off. he noticed a man walking along the street, with a man directly in front of him. He squinted, brought binoculars, and jumped back a little, startled. The man was Eugene Hellic. He tunred into the room, brought out his sniper... And found the two men were lost in the panicking crowd...

Snaze was waiting when the limo pulled up, this wasn't unexpected but it was still a surprise. When told of the situation he quickly got the miterials needed and then did a little paint jod a plate switch on the limo. not the best but from a distance the now pink limo looked nothing like a gun toteing maniac car, a little unmanly but that was the point right make it look peacefull and normal.

In a near-by province

Rianelle Jorden picked up her vibrating cell phone. "Hello?" she answered sweetly. A familiar voice filled her earpiece, "Get Vetira. Now." The line went dead, but she was not surprised nor offended. Climbing into the helicopter next to her, she started the engines and headed for Naharahk.

Downtown Naharahk

Vetira phoned Carson for help, and was assured by his annoyed friend. He may not need to kill Helic after all...

OOC: In anycase, you'll have to wait for Jenrak to RP Hellic's reaction, and/or death.

OOC: I figured I could have Helic do... something... and have Jenrak either confirm it or creatively have Helic survive if attempted murder follows.

Vetira heard a chopper come closer. He knew it was Ria and he had to act fast. He looked around wildly and ushered Helic at a sharp right down a street corner. Vetira and his captive made his way down an alley, Quickly he found a boarding house and forced Helic up a fire escape. With the two on the roof, a chopper came in close, ejecting a rope ladder. Vetira pushed Helic to the ground and fired a shot in his direction. The helicopter accelerated and and sped of into the distance, leaving Helic alone in an unknown condition. Vetira climbed into the cockpit and shouted. "Glad to see me?" The gorgeous pilot smiled and continued the flight.

After the paint job the first pair returned to their hotel room, where they found the package. It contained everything their weapons Thier holsters and the hopefully acurate number that might give them an edge. Thyle started to enspect their prized posetions ( the guns ) while Termoin made a phone call it rang but there was no answer, perfect Termoin left a mesage setting up a meeting, then went to take a shower. He always thought that after he did something nasty he should shower and then ask for repentance from god. he was very religous and for this reason he had got the nickname on term, meaning that he followed the rules almost too much but it never got in the way of work, well almost never.

Thirty Minutes Later

The couple landed at a local aircraft hangar. Forgetting the chopper, they sprinted towards a small jet, hand in hand. The door opened and the pilot pulled them inside. "Carson won't be happy about this..." Vetira commented while Rianelle just nodded. With that, the jet took off and headed for France. It was over.

OOC: well i gues thats it my tactic didn't work, but he may still live hopefully because i had something wiered planed but oh well.

OOC: Otagia, Delta One hung up on Quetzal's initial call; you can have him call him back if you wish.

OOC I'm just gonna jump in and make this interesting

IC In the Communist nation of Die Seelenesser

General Klaus: Major Vlademir Smith, I have called you here for a reason. One of our associates, a certain Mr. Helic, has been put on an international bounty list. He aided us in our glorious revolution, so now we shall aid him. You and a team of four others will be sent to protect him at all costs. ALL costs! You will have a marksman, Ms. Jain Zurich, a demolitions expert, Mark Dennir, a chemical weapons specialist, Nic Ferris, and lastly, and this one should suprise you, a certain mass murderer who seems to be able to escape every prison facility in this nation. He is known only as Frederik. He is a valuable asset, but don't lose sight of him for a second. Now get down to Naharahk and do your job.

is this still open?

OOC: Otagia, Delta One hung up on Quetzal's initial call; you can have him call him back if you wish.

OOC: Yeah, I just noticed. I take an hour drive home and look what happens to the thread... I'll have Quetzal call back now. Note that I might have to sleep soon, so posting may not happen till the morning.

Oh, and do you have MSNIM? My addy is blaestwin@hotmail.com if you wish to chat.

IC: Picking up the phone, Quetzal dialed Delta One's number again.

"Hey, Clavian, this is David. You remember, from Ceyolia? I was wondering if you were interested in a business proposition."

occ: yea this doesnt work verry well, i got to sleep, meenwhile everyone else makes their moves....

Axeblood watched with interest as a second follower he'd not spotted before marched up to the target and pulled a gun out, it was hidden to the public well but to the expert eye it was crearly visable... he smiled to himself, the game was on, he quickened his pace ignoring the other follower(s) for now. they were unimportant, he marched up behind the pair and barged into the gunman.. "sorry mate wasnt looking" continuing his march he smircked to himself, this oughta be interesting he thought. in the gunmans poket now lay a card....

YOU HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED
WATCH YOUR BACK

Denres pulled his jeep up on the dirt beside the village pub passing by some drunken 18 year old conscripts beginning their long walk back to the barracks, he didn't say anything as they failed to salute. He thought for a moment about how the military was turning into a petty youth camp rather than "a professional experience to produce generations of refined healthy happy people", but paused when he realised he should have disciplined them, turning around only to find they had disappeared into the darkness. He enterred the pub which was now empty of conscripts, leaving a few old gents drinking Econoquality lager and his 11 unemployed brothers in arms and sat down at one of the tables with the rest of his 4 man patrol.

There wasn't much talk, it was Frosty's round that night who got up and went to get Denres his Dollyemuan Gin and Quinine water. He picked up the New Herald to an already read article on the recession, "The government is a 1 party system and is claiming it is not a factor when it's laissez faire attitude is the major factor...in the past government intervention preserved justice and ensured the market was free, now the government is completely seperated from the economy. They predicted uncontrollable growth, we're getting uncontrollable share devaluing...", he stood up and mumbled to Lochus and Obiar in response "laissez faire my ass". The tender passed Frosty a lager, gin and quinine water, Denres took up a seat next to him, downed half the gin and washed it down with some quinine. "Special forces instructor my ass." repeated Denres picking up the Justinian Libertarian state newspaper on the bar and flicking through trying to find it's opinion of the recession. Frosty took a seat and was quiet for a few seconds before replying.
"Me and the boys, have been thinking..."
"well done" Denres pitched in attempting to mock the "me and the boys" introduction, Frosty ignored the lame atmosphere Denres was trying to create,
"We are in a recession, but in this country the military is an institution, it is part of this country... why would we minutemen, the finest, ever be disbanded. 96 men is hardly a drain on the economy."
"96 men is a drain in this economy" Denres pitched in again. The tender refilled Denre's now empty gin glass which Denres halved again and Frosty restarted the conversation.
"We're not even part of the army, right? We're something else and we have to stay alive, we can't just be absorbed into the army, we won't spread our knowledge, we'll just be diluted."
Denres lightenned down, "We've been through this."

Frosty went back to the table picked up the paper and locked eyes with Lochus and Obiar for a moment, Lochus followed Frosty back to the bar, both of them hopping onto stools either side of Denres, who remained motionless staring into his slightly turquoise gin. They waited for the Tender to refill Frosty's glass and go off to serve the other 9, Obiar picked his nose and watched, beer in hand. Frosty slapped the folded New Herald on top of the state newspaper "The same party has been in power for 25 years, why won't people vote for the other parties?" forcing facts in front of his face in the typical Phriykuian manner.
"Because they are wrong."
"Exactly, this is what we've been telling you, the government is an institution, it is the only moderate party, of course no one will vote for the other parties."
"We're not a despotism." Denres assumed, the tender stopped momentarily and began walking briskly "We can vote this government out if we want." Denres continued, the tender headed round the back. The other minutemen had by now all glanced at the 3 at the bar and the dissapearing tender and though not too botherred, their conversations was stimulated mildly by the occurance.
"There is no incentive for this government to be as efficient as possible, only to be slightly more efficient than the ineffective parties, we are not a despotism, but we're not a democracy, or a representative government either and without us around, what's to stop them?"
"The military is integrated with the people for that reason, as long as people care about their family and friends we will never sink into despotism."
"Though that's not the point of the military nowadays is it? It is more like an educational commune for the otherwise unemployed youth." Denres finnished his gin and began sipping his quinine water instead, then replied
"Then we should ask the government to create more moderate parties."
"And how will we get a political party to accept it's own opposition?"
"We should become Justinian politicians or attempt to change the existing parties."
Lochus butted in, "Each of the parties works like a miniature despotism, there's no way any of us are going to get to the top."
"If enough people get into the low ranks we will be able to change the parties."
Lochus responded immediately with a hint of frustration "You don't think they've tried, it's been 25" he paused making a brief breathing noise as if he was about to say something "years".
"Who are they?" Denres cliched, alcohol beginning to enter his blood whilst Frosty signalled to Lochus to stay silent as Denres looked down at the last 2 cms of quinine in his glass before looking up again trying to locate the tender, Frosty took this moment to charismatically reason with him "Whatever is going on, it is our duty to remain militarily active, I'd hate to think when you swore your oath of duty you didn't really mean it, that if t.." "Don't say that Ptheon" Denres said in an unemotional dictating voice.

The conversation remained as dead as it had begun. Phriykui had never been at war, Atlantis had it's frictions, but most totalitarian nations were too apathetic or small to do anything other than cement diplomatic relations and trade, the minutemen, some of them trained from infancy, may have been the only people on the continent wanting war, a just war. Recession could lead to a rise in extremism, even in a society based on freedom of speech, but even he had to face the facts now, the minutemen had been disbanded. Denres knew this and Ptheon knew the last piece of the puzzle was in place, all they needed now was money.

Picking up the phone, Quetzal dialed Delta One's number again.

"Hey, Clavian, this is David. You remember, from Ceyolia? I was wondering if you were interested in a business proposition."

Clavain was surprised at the call. He quickly shook aside, however, and slipped back into cover.

"David! Good to hear from you!

"A business proposition? Sounds interesting. Where are you staying? Perhaps we can discuss matters there..."

OOC: 3 pages worth of stuff while I went to sleep...yikes. Okay, I'll try my best to keep it going on this...

IC:

The panic ensued, as a stray gunshot from a seemingly passerby limousine had finally bursted off rounds of lead around, as a round of lead forged it's way into his arm, slumping down in pain, as Eugene Helic tried in vain to dissect the bullet still writhing in his flesh, feeling the burning fires. He knew that someone seemed to follow him now, that he was not safe anymore, ducking in firefight and chaos as the military arrived, carriers and soldiers emerged, blocking the gates of the large fair city, as the civilians kept their worries in their heads.

Ducking into alleyway, he pulled out his pistol, and aimed it carefully around, looking around frantically as if it were some predator that would threaten to ensue him. He breathed, and then breathed, his breath showing the pain still lurching in his arm.

ooc: you had someone by your side pointing a gun at you......?? did you read?

IC axeblood staggered into the ally, his gruff voice heard easily over the havoc in the street. "your not safe yet, move!.... and ffs put that gun away... you want the military on your sorry ass? follow me!"

ooc: thought i'd wait to see what the target does before i continue

OOC: Jenrak you are a little off:

A the shots fired were aimed by a trained sniper and were intented to miss.
B you were then forced up a lader onto a roof.
C i have sent a message to your phone
D the person who forced you up the lader shot in your general direction, while fleeing in a helecopter.

ooc he obviously didnt read the events carefully

Brown had caught sight of Hellic again, but now everything was chaos. From his vantage point on his balcony, he could see Hellic on a rooftop. He pulled up his sniper, took aim... And then saw a bullet fly at the target from somewhere else...

OOC: Thank you Piglatnia for clarifing this. Helic is currently on a rooftop, having just been shot at by one of my characters, Scott Vetira.


IC:

Nearly three hours later...

The jet had finally landed in France. After thanking the pilot, Rianelle and Scott got of the escape-craft and hailed a cab to Carson's Villa. He was not pleased.

"You did what?!" Carson shouted angrily. Scott assured his angry friend, "I led Helic through Naharahk at gunpoint. We were being followed my many other assassins, so I ended the situation. I led him up a fire escape, and onto a roof top where Ria picked me up. I shot at Helic, but we do not know if he is dead. We flew to the hangar and Giancarlo took us here." "And the helicopter?" This time Rianelle answered, "We left it at the hangar."

"Well, my friends," Carson began, "We wait. I have contacts throughout the assassin community. We will soon know when Helic is dead. If he is dead." And with that he poured the trio glasses of wine. Salute!

OOC: SkyCapt, I just led Helic through town, to the roof, where I shot him. Shot at him, rather. Jenrak can dispute that if he likes, but at this point it seems as if he has made an error.

OOC: Holy Crap, this moved fast, damn I missed an opportunity to kill him, hmm oh and Nykibo check your TG's

IC:

Kara sat in the café observing, waiting, she was surprised as hell when her mark actually entered the same café she was currently sat in. she carefully looked at the photo and at the man making sure he did not notice her. This place was certainly crowed. Being a pro meant limiting the damage of innocent lives…unless they were guards of course in which case they were fair game. She noticed another familiar face enter the Café..."What the hell is he doing here?" her mind screamed at her as she spotted Carson Lee, so much so that she didn't even notice her mark leave. It was only when she heard gunfire from outside that she re-entered reality quickly turning to see a Fleeing Limousine; "Shit!" she said aloud; "These idiots will have the damn Military on their arse" she got up from her seat and walked over to Carson.

All she had on her right now was a 9mm pistol with a silencer, she couldn't take on that many but it should be enough after all being a pro was also about overcoming all obstacles to kill your target. "What are you doing here" she said, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him out of the café with her by it, not even waiting for his response they had a mark to catch.

Kara tried to profile Hellic, putting herself in his head, trying to figure out what his next move would be, she knew he would try and get out of town that was for sure. However, with all this going on right now the military had been called in making it much harder for herself to get out not just her mark. She picked up a small tourist map and laid it out on the counter.

"Alright, where would you go Mr Hellic." she said studying the map waiting for any insight her new "partner" might have.

OOC2: Ok I'm lost, I thought Carson was still in the Cafe while Scott and the girl gave chase?

OOC: Lol. Jenrak is offline again... WE must wait, wait and see his response...

"Clavain, you know me better than that. No way in hell I'm telling you where I'm staying. After all, I have a few friends here who probably wouldn't approve. Why don't we meet at my favorite driving range? It's usually nearly empty, though not empty enough for one of us to whack the other."

Quetzal rattled off directions.

"Clavain, you know me better than that. No way in hell I'm telling you where I'm staying. After all, I have a few friends here who probably wouldn't approve. Why don't we meet at my favorite driving range? It's usually nearly empty, though not empty enough for one of us to whack the other."

Quetzal rattled off directions.

Clavain laughed. "Still sharp after all these years, eh, David? Alright, I'll meet you at the range. It appears I missed the meeting I was supposed to have with my first client anyways. I'll see if I can't re-schedule for another time. See you in five, David."

Quetzal had gone through a quarter bucket of balls by the time Delta One arrived. Quetzal turned.

"Clavain, long time no see! How's business in your part of the world? Treating you well, I hope?"

Quetzal had gone through a quarter bucket of balls by the time Delta One arrived. Quetzal turned.

"Clavain, long time no see! How's business in your part of the world? Treating you well, I hope?"

"Good to see you, David. Business around my neck of the woods has been a little slow lately, but it's been like a paid vacation for me, so it's not too bad. How did things turn out in Ceyolia, by the way? I heard you scored a big contract there."

The squad of five had just arrived in the city when all havoc broke loose. "It looks like the fun is just beginning" commented Vlademir, "I only hope we're not too late." They entered the city, walking down street after crouded street. They stopped in front of a hardware store, when Nic noticed there were only four of them. "Hey," he said, "What happened to the maniac?"

In Secret: TCS will pay 1 Billion for each killed or 1.5 billion for a captured Rotovian official. We will pay 10 Billion for the death of their president, and we will pay 5 Billion (to the thread starter) for hosting this target.

Eviscerator Primus

"Good to see you, David. Business around my neck of the woods has been a little slow lately, but it's been like a paid vacation for me, so it's not too bad. How did things turn out in Ceyolia, by the way? I heard you scored a big contract there."
David grinned.

"Big is an understatement. Over four billion for my work. Admittedly, I payed my fixer the usual 25%, and now we're both living like kings. Had the money to get the bad leg nearly replaced. The kneecap is now artificial, as are several chunks of bone in the area."

Quetzal took another swing. A hundred yards.

"Of course, that's not exactly what we came here to talk about. We both made a killing on the last job. Why not work together? We could get kills more efficiently, more quickly. OVer all, I think we can turn a better profit at less of a risk. Split the money fifty-fifty."

OOC: Can you guys cut some slack on me? I have two jobs, a girlfriend who needs as much attention as a baby, and studies to work on, so forgive my lack of intervention and whatnot. I'm putting in a rule, that you may only put in one move of anything on the target, just so I don't have to read 3 pages worth of stuff every time I log off. I'm on more on weekends, but I've been having some stuff as well. So sorry about that. I'll make him dead, but for all fairness (and easier for me), I'll be amused by the next move. If I got things wrong, I won't change it, because some people have already adapted to it, and I'm not the person to make people change things.

IC:

Helic was fired at, his body a rusting corpse now, his eyes out of focus as the blood dripped down his body, his head with a bullet pierced through his skull. He was, evidently, in all means, dead.

From afar, with binoculars glazing at the scene, sat a small man, in a black suit, atop the rooftop, observing before turning his cellphone on, and calling one of his contacts. "It's done." He said.

From the Desk of Viraranar

Good job. I have heard Mr. Helic was killed. I do not care about the body, let it rot, let it become food for the hungry rats and the blood thirsty birds, let the flesh not go to waste, but only rot in the heat so for the nature. I, however, want the parchment that Helic has in his jacket. Whoever brings me the parchment, INTACT, will be compensated, and the next target will be assigned.

OOC: Now I don't have to technically RP this, because well, there's not to do as a piece of parchment. Have fun seeing who gets it. The person with the parchment that brings it to Viraranar, gets paid in cash.

Brown saw Hellic go down. He zoomed in his binoculars. A clean bullet hole sat in the targets head. He walked into his room, and got out his radio. "This is E-092, the target is down. Someone got him." "We have a message, from Jenrak. Get the parchment." "OK." He put away the mic, and put on a business suit...

He was dead, their first mark dead. But all was not lost they had gotten a comunique from their home base and were already comming up with a plan.

Snaze had come to the hotel a while after the mesage came fred was looking for the body where it last was seen, if fred were to find the body he was to do nothing but watch watch and radio the position.

"Is everything going as planned?" Saerus asked Viraranar, as the dark quiet shadow emerged from the darkness, blade in his hands. "Did they get the parchment?"

"Not yet, Saerus. You have to be patient."

"My ascension includes that parchment. If I cannot get that parchment, then I'll have to resort to others means, and that could damage my entire organization."

"I know, but be patient."

OOC: I just wanted to thank everyone who did this, its been a great experience. I won't be online as much for a while, so I wont be able to actively participate, but I may just pop in and stir things up. It was also an honor for Scott to get to kill Helic. (Needless to say, Carson is not very happy at all. ;) ) Jenrak, sorry man, for all the confusion. I understand how busy life gets, no worries. See you soon!

OOC: Okey dokey.

David grinned.

"Big is an understatement. Over four billion for my work. Admittedly, I payed my fixer the usual 25%, and now we're both living like kings. Had the money to get the bad leg nearly replaced. The kneecap is now artificial, as are several chunks of bone in the area."

Quetzal took another swing. A hundred yards.

"Of course, that's not exactly what we came here to talk about. We both made a killing on the last job. Why not work together? We could get kills more efficiently, more quickly. OVer all, I think we can turn a better profit at less of a risk. Split the money fifty-fifty."

"Sounds fine with me, David. That's actually exactly what I was thinking. Wait a moment," Clavain said suddenly as his SATPhone went off.

"Clavain. Yes. Dammit, are you sure? Yes. Out."

Clavain shut the phone, sighed, then looked at Quetzal and spoke in a low voice. "First target's been eliminated. Apparently there's a reward for retrieving the parchment he has on him, but judging from the number of compeititors I saw while looking for him, someone will probably nab it before we get there."

so this is still open?

OOC: Yes, it is still open.

IC:

To recieve payment, the first person to bring me the parchment will be paid full in cash. However, for others, you may have the glory of your next target.

The Desk of Viraranar, Black Patriarchs
The next victim is Massla Threstin. A rogue general, he used to command a piece of power under my helm, until a mutiny forced me to execute him. However, it was a willing decoy, and now he acts like a normal man. Roughly 5' 8', Threstin is a ruthless fighter, and will not hesitate to go down without a fight. However, alive or not, we need the parchment he has with him, like Mr. Helic before him. He is a black haired man, with a large mole on his left cheek, and green eyes. He is recorded to live near the ruins of Jeviz'Kraa, in an old townhouse.

The payment for the parchment from Mr. Threstin is $335,000

Brown, having returned back to SkyCapt, plopped on his bed, and was asleep in minutes. 2 Hours later, he awoke, and stretched. He noticed his desktop had a mail notification sign, so he went over. An e-mail from the government. Another target. E-092 was about to enter business again. He packed another suitcase, made reservations for a hotel the closest city, entering under the alias of Robert Jeniks, a tourist in Jenrak. He brought out a new toy, a P-92. He admired its sleek lines, then out it in his bag, along with 3 clips of ammunition. He brought out a taser, thinking to himself, "Never can be too sure..." He brought out an MkII SR, taking apart the sniper rifle. He packed ammo for that too, then made some coffee. He looked at his watch. 11:00 PM. He walked to the bed, then went to sleep. He was exhausted, and this next assignment looked hard...

A tavern in Milenmach, a kilometre off of Jeviz'Kraa central platform...

A man sipped his coffee, as a pair of women entered the shop, the people staring with a scared look in their eyes. Guns raised up, they demanded the money behind the counter, but the shop owner could not do it.

"It's all debited. There's no more cash to use." He explained, and the women ran around, grabbing left and right the debits from people's fingers. When the yarrived to the man, he did not move, nor did he let go of his debit.

"Give it up, old man." One of the women said, a shotgun pointed at his head. "I'm not afraid to shoot you." She cocked the gun.

"You may not be afraid to shoot me, but one shot from you and you'll be gunned down by the entire police." He said, smirking. "The question is, who is more afraid of death?" He sipped his coffee once more.

"I'm not afraid." She said, the gun aimed at his head. He still sipped it.

"Well then, I guess you aren't." He pulled out a silver magnum, and unloaded two rounds into her head, and another round into her partner's head. "Goodnight, ladies." He said, and stood up, hearing the faint sirens outside.

"Damn, they're fast."

Bad News travels fast they say, and for Kara it travelled very fast, the news of the man's death hit all the papers, she wasn't happy though the idea of a reward for the parchment raised her curiosity, she preferred the action and adventure. News of another job hit the street and Kara was nothing if not street wise, knowing where to go to get the right information was an art form one Kara had perfected. It was true this time she had returned home empty handed but next time, after making some preparations she was off to Jeviz'Kraa. This time she was meeting Reggie her usual contact, someone she knew would deliver the…heavier weapons she needed as this general could pose a threat. Would she really take out an entire building for one man…yes she would

OOC: Bump.

Brown stepped out of the airliner. He went to the baggage retrieval, and waited. 10 minutes passed. Then 20. A half-hour went by with no sign of his luggage. He kept calm, trying to keep patient. An hour went by, and only he and another group of sightseers were left there. No sign of the bag. Finally, it came through, pristine as ever. He took it, and checked his watch. If he didn't put the pedal to the metal, he would be late. Very late. He finally arrived at the hotel, checked in, and flopped on the bed. This wasn't like him. but then again, he had never taken a non-stop 10 hour flight before. He fell asleep in moments.

OOC: Happy Bump.

OOC: no one else is doing anything so...

IC: fred had radioed that he found the body and was wondering what he should do. he was in structed to search it and hope that the item was still there.