Title: Operation Uneven Elephant
Description: Branson, MO
Cyber78 - March 30, 2008 12:44 AM (GMT)
Out of all the places to stay here in Branson, we get to stay in a Super 8 Motel of all place's. That's just fantastic.
I arrived at the Super 8 at about six in the evening after a long flight from D.C. to St. Louis and then a trip in a Dodge Charger rental car. Like the majority of hotels I've stayed at while on the job, this place would make your average Holiday Inn look like the Drake. There were some funny spots on the floors, the bathroom wasn't a healthy looking color, and it would've been nice to have room service for once.
But there was still a job to do. Sitting next to my bad was a large package from FedEx. I pulled out my old knife and opened it up. Inside was one of the new REC7's, several magazines, all preloaded, and it's corresponding accessories. A scope for long distance fighting, a laser sight for close quarters fighting, a bayonet for very close quarters fighting, and a foregrip. Also in the package was ten flashbang grenades, a pair of thermal goggles, and a pair of wirecutters.
On the bed was a second package. This one was much smaller. I opened up this one to find my order of a brand new TAC Rugger
short sword and Raptor
tactical knife. They'd taken up a pretty good amount of my paycheck, but that was fine by me.
After I opened the package I hopped in the shower as a precautionary measure. It had been a long trip and I wasn't sure if I smelled and had simply adjusted. Once I had taken care of hygiene I put on my new suit. Gone were the days that I could simply wear a button up shirt and pass it off on the agency dress code, at least for me. While I wasn't one for suits at least this one was nice and simple. Black suit, black tie, and I got to keep wearing a black fedora hat. And while the dress code stated that I was supposed to be wearing some nice shoes like loafers or something I managed to just wear some boots and no one noticed the difference.
In my briefcase was an old newspaper article from February.
|Washington D.C. (February 29th, 2008) - In a move that comes as a shock to many political analysts following the politics concerning the Federal Vampire and Zombie Agency, Director Jonas Bonnet has promoted Special Agent John Miller to the office of Deputy Director. Director Jonas Bonnet became well known last year when he became the first vampire appointed to a major government office, to say nothing of working for an agency who's mission is the destruction of all vampires.|
An agency spokesperson has stated that Miller was selected because of his experience with the agency and for his leadership skills. The FVZA's official biography on him states that he is 30 years of age and has been serving with the agency since it's inception. Previous to working for the federal government Miller was a police officer for a small town in Illinois.
However many analysts are quite baffled at the choice of deputy director. Inside sources state that Miller is a highly outspoken critic of the new policies that he claims have severely hindered the agency's mission. In spite of this the agency's biggest critic, Senator Crepehanger, has remained silent on this recent promotion despite the momentum he's been acquiring for the pro-vampire movement.
- The Washington Post
Most people were surprised at this, but the truth is that I only got this job as a result of a little job I was a part of in Oklahoma. What very few people knew was that Senator Crepehanger has been dead for quite some time now. People merely assumed that as a result of his vampirism he hasn't been one to step outside. The truth is that someone's been running the show and pretending he's still alive, much like how Mrs. Wilson ran the White House when her husband Woodrow Wilson had his stroke. But that suited me just fine.
For now we had an uneasy peace with the Order of the Broken Cross in the high levels of government. While that didn't do anything to prevent small scale skirmishes, it did have the advantage of getting a few things done. It meant we could freely eliminate zombies, and thanks to a few documents that were found at Senator Crepehanger's mansion, we were able to blackmail Director Bonnet into a few things. Namely inserting me in as the Deputy Director of the agency. While it meant I had to wear a suit and meant longer hours it did have it's advantages, a better paycheck in particular.
Now it was time to do my job and solve the case.
OOC: Alright, that puts in a bit of background about what's happened since Operation Cronus and hopefully we can get this ball rolling.
Abnet - March 30, 2008 01:58 AM (GMT)
29 March 2008-A motel in a small town outside of Branson
Leon walked into the local motel he had been staying in for the past few weeks. Even with the money from his promotion he was doing some side jobs for a little extra spending money. His cell phone rang in his pocket.
"Leon?" It was Alice, his contact from the Agency.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"You've got a new mission. It's in Branson."
"The equipment you ordered should have been delivered to your location. The meeting point is at the Super 8 in Branson. I've e-mailed the details for the mission to you so you'll want to take a look at that before you leave."
"Don't get killed out there."
Leon looked up and saw a few large boxes in his room. The M1911, combat knife, and REC7 he ordered was in the first box, along with a reflex sight, a silencer, and a few extra clips. In the second box was a tactical vest, hands free radio, and night vison goggles. In the third box were some suitcases to carry his equipment.
He checked his e-mail and read through the mission details. He would be infiltrating an undead versus human fight club, to do that he would have to sneak in, get past whatever guards were there (whether by sneaking past them or killing them was his choice), stash his equipment in a suitable place and find out whatever information he could before sabotaging the fighting ring from the inside.
It's gonna be a long day...
Maelstrom - March 30, 2008 03:45 AM (GMT)
I'm not a man prone to excitement. Honestly. Years of adrenaline-rushed activity has rendered me somewhat blase about the whole life-and-death issue. It's not a very healthy outlook on life.
I glanced down on my hand again. Not that I don't remember the room number, but it's always better to be sure.
There it is. Room triple three. Meeting an Agent Miller. Supposed to be a big shot. Hope he's one of those actually competent ones.
Then again, I've just been transferred to the Shadows, so I suppose I'm not that low on the food chain either. Two years behind the scope of a long gun and I'm finally running with the big boys. Good job, Warren. You're moving up the ladder.
I raise my hand and knock.
Jay - March 30, 2008 04:38 AM (GMT)
Red Jack on the black Queen, then move this stack over...
Branson. Not somewhere I was familiar with at that time. I preferred Paris. Beautiful city. Lots of art, and an inept police force that couldn't stop a contract killer if their lives depended on it.
Heh. Wonder how they'd take a vampire.
I'd been sent here by the Order. Why? Observation. It was... irritating. I was an assassin, not a spy, although with things in the Order being as they were, I wasn't particularly surprised. Internal and external politics seemed to take up a lot of time and effort. Things were slipping a little.
Locate and monitor the activities of one John Miller of the FVZA. Do not interfere unless the circumstances indicate that the interests of the Order are threatened, in which case remove the threat as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Miller. It had been a while. A year, maybe more, maybe less. I mulled over the circumstances of our meeting. I'd been assigned to kill him. I hadn't. Our lives had collided again several times, including the time when I was first made aware of the Order of the Broken Cross. He was there when I lost my life, although he wasn't made aware of the fact until we met again in Seattle. That was a year ago. Since then I'd gone underground, watching as our existences were revealed. Removing strategic targets. Destroying or capturing weapon and ammo supplies. Small acts to hinder the FVZA's movements, that sort of thing. And now I was going to monitor the man who was partially responsible for my death.
The paper they'd delivered to my hotel room that day had an article about the huge decrease in homeless people over the last year or so in Branson. I read it again and frowned. Some politician was making broad statements about housing initiatives and the like having an effect. I ignored these for the most part. If the statistics were true, that would mean that it would be a little more difficult to feed.
Oh well, I do like a challenge.
Cyber78 - March 30, 2008 05:19 AM (GMT)
Upon hearing a knock on the door I went over unlocked it, and then opened it to find Agent Harding. From what I'd heard he was one of the agency's newest shadows; a job not for the faint of heart. But hey, I guess if you're skilled enough to work Delta Force and crazy enough to work for the FVZA that makes for a pretty good shadow.
"Hey there Warren, glad to see you made it out here to the Ozarks. Come on in." I said.
Tsumari - March 30, 2008 05:39 AM (GMT)
((OOC: I posted this in the HQ, but here it is again along with the continuation.))
MARCH 29, 2007. 4:56 AM. OUTSIDE KANSAS CITY, KANSAS.
Alan Rowan sat in a dark home-office in front of an iMac computer. He was editing some wildlife photos from his last trip to Colorado for a freelance job with a nature journal. Not so exciting- but it put bread on the table. It had been some time since the last time he saw action- his career with the FVZA had been cut short by a family crisis. Things had been hard for Alan, and he'd voluntarily suspended himself to move to Kansas City and help his grieving relatives after the death of his father.
As he cropped a shot of a falcon diving against a Rocky Mountain skyline background, he idly began to leaf through the disheveled pile of mail sitting next to his keyboard. For some reason,
one of them caught his eye. He paused and looked down. A heavy envelope. On the front: "U.S. GOVERNMENT DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE -- POSTAGE PAID."
On the back was a watermark of the FVZA seal. He tore it open. He was being offered the chance to be immediately reactivated with field status and full pay (not much more than what he was making now, but that wasn't the point.) The DZ? Branson. Maybe three hours away on a bad day. Hell, he could make it there on one tank of gas.
Alan didn't even bother with a full shut-down. He just held down the power button until his screen went black. Fumbling for the lights in the now dark room, he grabbed the still-loaded Barretta out of his desk drawer. The lights flicked on, and he started packing immediately. Two hours later, he was walking out the door as the sunrise first creeped over suburbia.
LATER THAT DAY. BRANSON, MISSOURI
The letter had given him an address, but not a name.
Motel 8. Classy...
The envelope had contained a room key, but he never made it to 321. He pulled into a too-cramped parking space in his inherited Corolla and made his way up the stairs, catching the sound of a familiar voice. Miller. He'd been following the news on the guy, but it must have been over a year since they last met face-to-face. He made his way toward the conversation and found two agents in a half-open doorway. He hesitated a moment to wonder what they would think of him, now with shoulder-length hair, a soul patch, and wearing jeans, a black Eluveitie T-shirt, and beaten-to-hell Chuck Taylors.
"Hey there. Long time, no see."
A horrible cliche, but how else do you greet a long-lost colleague in an anti-zombie task force?
Cyber78 - March 30, 2008 05:57 AM (GMT)
A guy just down the hall said "Hey there. Long time, no see.". I almost didn't recognize the guy; he was quite right in that it had been quite a while. But after after a split second I recognized him; Alan Rowan, the freelance reporter and photographer. He had quite possibly the best mindset for this sort of job.
"Alan, it has been quite a while. Good to see you didn't fall off the face of the earth, now come on in." I said, gesturing both him and Warren into my poor excuse of a hotel room.
Kilroy - March 30, 2008 06:07 AM (GMT)
[Super 8?! They don't even leave the light on for you!]
Judas Dredd, agent of the FVZA and all around swell guy, was currently laying a few sheets over the top of his bed. Like it or not, he was going to have to sleep on the bed, but there was no way he'd be sleeping in it. He'd seen the news specials with the black lights. Splotches everywhere.
[Wait, was it Super 8 that did those commercials? If they did, it was money better spent on their hotels.]
In all honesty, Judas kept his mind on trivial matters like these because he didn't really want to focus on his professional life right now. Because right now, he was not a man to be envied. While he hadn't been in the field for the Cronus operation, Judas still had a helping hand. It had been he and a few select others who had done what they could at headquarters to keep the Op off the radar.
The good news? They did pretty well. The bad news? Judas' efforts earned him the title of being the agency's resident kiss-ass. Sure, a few of the stunts he pulled were a bit...toadyish...but come on. He did not stomp zombie brains into mush and get into a firefight with vampire mercs in the FVZA parking garage to just simply become the office weasel!
[The stuffed weasel plushie and weasel food they left on my desk was a nice touch, though.]
Still, in the Dredd family, optimism ran high and Judas was determined to make his new role benefit himself and his fellow agents. Maybe playing Director's Pet for a while could net some useful information for missions. The only problem now would be getting everyone who hates his guts to listen.
"And if Bonnert has me fetch any more coffee when I get back, I'm gonna remove his head and put on a saucy puppet show!"
Chuckling, Judas exited his room and walked down the hall. He put on a mor serious expression as he approached Miller---that is, Deputy Director Miller's room and knocked.
[Okay, game face. Think Bobby Heenan. Think early Smithers. Try not to think about everybody hating you and knowing how to make it look like you contracted the zombie virus and had to be euthanized.]
Maelstrom - March 30, 2008 06:08 AM (GMT)
Miller looked like shit. Well, not shit really, but still a little worse for wear. Though I guess I looked just about the same. It's this line of work-- no matter if you enjoyed it or not, it takes its toll on you. Killin' dead people/monsters and whatnot.
I smiled at the greeting and ducked into the room. It was... nice. For this kind of motel, this was as good as it got. Which was a shame. Some service would've been nice. I was about to open my mouth when a third guy joined us.
I didn't know this guy, but I thought he fit the FVZA profile. Must be one of us. And then there were three.
"So," might as well get this started, I thought, "what's the deal?"
Cyber78 - March 30, 2008 06:34 AM (GMT)
I saw Agent Dredd coming down the hall, he looked pretty serious. Kind of a shame, sometimes all you could do to get through the day was to just lighten up a bit. But then again when most of the other agents were reckoning that he was living up to his first name of Judas I suppose I can sympathize. I waved him over and then went over to my bed to take a seat.
"What's the deal?" Asked Agent Harding.
"Well it looks like somebody started thinking that they were Tyler Durden and decided to start a little fight club. With zombies. However as we all know, zombies do not fight each other, that'd make our jobs far too easy. Instead they've been pitting homeless people and the occasional volunteer tough guy against these zombies in cage matches.
"As you all know, hand to hand fighting against zombies, especially without proper protection, and especially in a confined space like a cage does tend to lead to infection. I mean really, the chances of an untrained combatant getting out of there alive, or at least uninfected is remarkably slim. Meaning that pretty much every time they do a match there's a new zombie out of the deal. This is where we come into play. We've got to put a stop to this, destroy their entire stock of zombies, and then make sure that there's no zombies running amok in Branson." I explained.
Kilroy - March 30, 2008 06:47 AM (GMT)
Judas couldn't help but laugh a little.
"So we're goin' dumbass hunting, huh?"
"I can't wait until I get to shoot something."
Alaska - March 30, 2008 07:02 AM (GMT)
Jacob had been in Branson under a week. Around an hour after his briefing with Rogers, he had flown out of the Jefferson City office to Branson. His flight had taken a mere ten minutes, so it was almost literally, getting to full height, and then looking for the place to land. He didn't really care how fast the trip was, his mind was on other things.
As he arrived in Branson, he had been taken to the Hilton at the Landing, a major commercial area, swarming with kids, adults, and the elderly. Shopping, entertainment and living, both hotel and lofts, were spread throughout the immediate area. He was just so lucky as to be given a room at the Hilton, newly-built and extremely posh.
Wearing a polo and khakis, along with a few bags, he came into the hotel, and took his room near the top. Along with formal attire, some exercise clothing and casual wear, were hidden, underneath all of this, tactical gear, including his Dragonskin, holsters, additional clip and round storage, as well as a small toolkit and a length of rope.
Along with that were his firearms, lying on the second bed, along with his bags, was his pack, containing, mainly, a disassembled M14, compact enough to fit comfortably, as well as his laptop. Set aside from these was a medium-sized case containing the Agency-issue REC7, complete with a customization kit. Last were his personal firearms. In the smallest case was stored a slim M3, carrying with it a suppressor, and next to it was Alaska's choice P228. In the third bag, hidden underneath additional clothes, was a massive amount of ammunition.
Alaska was ready. Now he would wait.
Jay - March 30, 2008 07:19 AM (GMT)
Next time I see a politician pushing a housing development for the homeless, I'm going to rip his genitals off before I start feeding on him. This is ridiculous.
It was indeed ridiculous. Jay been walking around some of the darker streets in town, looking for any homeless person unfortunate enough to be in the same town as he was. Nothing, even late at night. It was like hobos were being systematically removed from society. Until he caught the barest hint of a smell.
A year since he was turned. An entire year to get used to the senses of a vampire, and he knew the smell of the homeless. Cheap beer, filth and traces of human waste leaves something of an impression on the nose. It wasn't long before Jay spotted him (a couple houses down from a rather dirty looking Super 8), and interestingly, the man creeping up on him. The stalker didn't seem to be carrying any weapons, and was definitely human. Jay could smell the cheap aftershave from across the street and down an alley. He saw the brief struggle before the homeless man simply collapsed. A faint smell of drugs wafted across the street. The smell reminded him of something he'd smelt before... chloroform.
This guy just drugged my meal. Now why would he do that?
The insensate man was quickly and quietly bundled into a nearby van that had another two men in it and driven away into the backstreets.
He had to follow it. It could technically be said that this was conflicting with the Order's interests, as he was part of the Order and his dinner was of vital interest to him. He set off at a run, trying to follow the exhaust fumes by smell.
Cyber78 - March 30, 2008 07:27 AM (GMT)
OOC: In the name of balance, I'm enforcing the armory rules on this little op.
The weapons regulations can be found here;http://z14.invisionfree.com/FVZA_RPG/index.php?showtopic=124
I'll review real quickly. The weapons regulations basically states that you can only use weapons in your team's armory (or if you're unaffiliated then you should use something similar). The rest of the rules basically spell out the exceptions which are as follows;
1. Long guns not including pump action shot guns and lever action rifles (see below) must roughly the same gun but may be accessorized or styled differently. An example being bringing a
2. Pump action shotguns of any kind may be used so long as they're 12 gauge and hold no more than eight rounds in the magazine. Lever action shotguns that fit within those boundaries are also acceptable. An example of an acceptable shotgun would be the Winchester Model 1897 for those who like old school shotguns.
3. Lever action rifles follow a similar guideline. Must be lever or pump action (supposedly pump action rifles do actually exist, although I don't know any of the top of my head), and hold no more than six rounds in the magazine. A good example would be the Marlin Model 336.
4. One handgun not in the armory is allowed to be carried in addition to the M1911. Doesn't matter what it is, just as long as it's a reasonable handgun. So just no Desert Eagles with a 100 round drum mag of some kind. But basically any .45, .40, or 9mm is perfectly acceptable.
5. No more than one custom handgun, and one long gun within those boundaries allowed.
6. Melee weapons designed to be used with one hand have no regulations.
As I've already done, if these regulations get broken I'm just going to edit the post and change the weapons to the closest thing allowed.
Maelstrom - March 30, 2008 07:45 AM (GMT)
There it was, reaffirmation of the eternal and noble truth that there is no shortage of idiots in this world. God damn it.
"Do we get to shoot something?"
I glanced over at the originator of that phrase. Seems like an odd question from a trained and season agent. Didn't LOOK like a sociopath... then again, you never know. Maybe I oughta save a bullet for him, when necessary. If necessary.
Anyway, back to business.
"Okay, so we've got some of the biggest idiots in history runnin' amok. Do we know where they are? Better yet, where the arena is?"
Kilroy - March 30, 2008 08:02 AM (GMT)
Judas countered the glance with a friendly smile and small wave. The guy had obviously been put off by his joke.
[Great. Nice to know my charm is operating at normal levels.]
But the question was a good one and Judas listened intently to the answer.
Tsumari - March 30, 2008 01:39 PM (GMT)
Rowan couldn't help but laugh to himself. Not only was the op in freakin' Branson, but now someone was building a zombie fight club? He'd thought that was just one of the many things he hated about Romero's "Land of the Dead."
"So have you checked the Branson Waffle House? I think I've seen things stranger than zed Pride fighting around that place."
Rhodes - March 30, 2008 02:03 PM (GMT)
Why must I continue to serve these imbeciles?
"We would like you to provide us with information on the growing situation."
Rhodes stood with his hands in his coat pockets, pay phone receiver wedged between his ear and shoulder. His long hair was slightly pulled back into a rough pony tail. He'd taken a very long shower, three hours to wash the muck and filth from his body. After burning his clothes, he'd found a suitable homeless person and taken them from him after drinking them dry and discarding the corpse in the closest stream.
Why must the eternal struggle continue like a bad greek play set to repeat?
"Just find out all you can, no wetworks. This is to be kept quiet. We have a truce in place with the FVZA. There are bigger objectives. This is all we require for now. Are you perfectly clear 13?"
Ugh I hate labels.
"Perfectly. Intel and quiet. When is the next report due?"
"48 hours from next sundown."
Rhodes continued to watch as very few townspeople walked by in a hurry, eyes constantly shifting. He also noticed they gave other people wide berths and avoided the alley ways similarly.
Rhodes hung the phone up with a loud slam. The sound of change that had been deposited fell into the catch bin. The tall, lithe vampire exited the booth and walked a few yards down the street to a small diner that was nearly empty if not for the quaint couple having lunch and the motherly looking waitress and portly cook in back.
Sitting down at the counter, Rhodes forced a warm smile at the waitress and ordered a cup of coffee and a glass of water with lemon on the side.
"Anythin to eat hun?" asked the waitress as she fussed with a loose tangle of hair that had come unpinned.
"Why not? Got the bug like most people round here?" asked the waitress stepping back slightly.
"No. No menu," replied Rhodes as he gestured at the empty countertop with a wider smile.
The waitress looked blankly before busting out with a belly shaking laugh.
"Why thats the funniest thing i've heard in a long time. Lemme get one for ya," she said shaking her head, freeing the tangle once again.
Rhodes turned and glanced around at the diner and the occupants.
*sigh* yet another day in suburbia hell of America. Why can't they send me over seas where my skills and talents are best suited?
The menu was laminated and well worn, complete with a smudge of mustard. The coffee was hot and fresh. The water was somewhat clear looking, but the lemon was rather wilty. After the waitress moved away to pick up an order in the window, Rhodes quickly took a dropper from his pocket and took a sample of the water from the glass.
Rule #3, always check the water for contaminants, its the easiest way to spread a toxin or chemical unbeknownest to most populations.
Tucking the sample away without being noticed, Rhodes sniffed at the coffee and then sipped tentatively.
His vampire senses caused him to turn at the far off sound of a voice that was familiar passing by on the street.
Judder - March 31, 2008 02:02 AM (GMT)
Judder looks at the atlas that is propped on his steering wheel in his massive black truck. The truck is sitting in the rest area and judder can feel the uncomfortable heat through the AC and the heavily tinted windows. He bats Razor's ears as the dog jumps from the back seat to the front seat.
Judder speaks aloud; " Hmm...just ten miles from Branson, better call him"
With that Judder whips out a cell phone and dials up Rhodes.. phone number.
It rings several times....
Cyber78 - March 31, 2008 06:47 AM (GMT)
"So... about where that arena is, we've got no idea. It could be a warehouse, it could be one of the theaters, for all we know it could be in some guy's basement. But I've got an idea how to find out. I'm thinking what we should do is stake out alleyways and other areas that are pretty to disappear. We then keep an eye out for black van style abductions and see where they go. From there we'll need to infiltrate the place, find out what we can, and then get busy." I said to the agents.
As I explained this I began to place my M1911 in my shoulder holster and put the REC7 and associated gear into a large duffel bag.
Kilroy - March 31, 2008 07:57 AM (GMT)
Judas nodded, thinking the plan was a good start. Then, a thought occurred.
"Wait a second, sir. We handle the zombies and stop the spread of infection, that part I get. But what about the organizers? To put it bluntly, humans aren't our bread and butter. And dividing our attention seems like a bad move. So...we getting any help on this?"
Agent Dredd shifted in his seat. On the one hand, he had an idea about where "help" would come from. On the other, it would be pretty funny to see how the Sawyers took the news if his guess was right.
Rhodes - March 31, 2008 11:23 AM (GMT)
Rhodes scanned the scant few people on the street when his cell phone vibrated in his coat pocket. Furrowing his brow in irritation, he pulled it out and glanced at the call id....Judder.
"How far away are you? *pause* Ten miles, good. Diner in town. Park two blocks away minimum. Keep Razor in vehicle."
He snapped the flip phone shut and took another sip of coffee while tucking the phone away.
Hmmm. Judders in town now. Might make this job lil faster.
"Warm up your coffee hun?" asked the motherly waitress.
Rhodes covered the 3/4 full cup with his palm and shook his head.
"But you could help me out. I'm fairly new in town. Visiting some friends and such. I was wondering what all touristy type things there are to do in this quaint lil town? Think you could point me in the right direction?" he asked with a smooth rolling voice that could melt even the iciest personalities.
The waitress shifted her weight to one foot, letting her large hip stick out as she bit on her tongue in thought.
"Well actually quite abit. We are a rather large tourist town. We got movie theaters, golf courses, museums and oh a waterpark. Bit could tho for a dip," she chuckled as she rattled off the list of local attractions.
Rhodes nodded as she spoke, his mind recording everything and plotting an order to the list to recon first. His superiors will want plenty of details.
Maelstrom - March 31, 2008 12:51 PM (GMT)
Right down to business. Can't say I don't like it.
"Gonna be one of those long ones, eh?"
I checked my shoulder holster, the USP Elite tucked in there safe and sound. I remember loading a full clip into there this morning, but just to be safe I should check. In a minute.
I had a shotgun waiting for me in the trunk of the jeep anyway.
"Wanna scatter a few of us as bait? Few days without showering and some second-hand clothing should do the trick. Might be faster."
AgentBenson - March 31, 2008 04:58 PM (GMT)
Finally Eric had arrived in Branson having needed to complete a local job back in his sector he had been told in his debreifing that he needed to head out to Branson to help out with a nation wide operation. No time to have some R & R and spend time with the girlfreind, Eric just shook his head god Ashley was a sanit proably one of the few people that really belived that he wasn't part of a waste of taxpayer money. Course it probaly helped that she was just as if not more insane than he was a real match made in heaven they were. Eric shook his head as he checked on the remmegton and that meele weapon that had been kind of a trademark of his around the southeastern office of his in the back seat that metal baseball bat of his. "I'm gonna have to repolish that..when this mission is over" he thought as he hid his colt 1911 in its flank holster. Eric pulled out his cell phone and began to dial the numbers of agents that he had been told were working in the area maybe he could meet up with one of them and start getting to work ((ooc note: sorry im late to the party i had lost the link to the boards...any agent or vampire working with the FVZA for this mission is free to anwser the calls that eric is making))
goteamventure15 - March 31, 2008 05:00 PM (GMT)
“Oh you have to be fucking kidding me.”
The words flew out of Jesse Sawyer's mouth, as he first gazed upon the underwhelming motel bedroom. The luxurious space sported stained carpets, torn curtains, and a dusty old TV. Jesse stood in the door carrying two big duffel bags, and looking very agitated. Normally Jesse wouldn't complain about such things. He'd lived in worse. The issue today was not what the room had but what it lacked.
Namely a second bed.
“Move. I want to see,” proclaimed his sister Julie. She stood at the door behind him, dragging a large suitcase. Jesse did a quick side step so Julie could take in the mystique and awe. The two field agents look at each other, then back at the bed, then at each other once more.
“I'm not sharing that,” they said in unison. Jesse then threw down his bags in frustration.
“Are we paying for this shit?”
Julie placed the suitcase down before shaking her head no. “The agency is paying for this. It has to be a mistake on the hotel's part. We do have the same last name.”
“No, this is fucking Miller trying to stick it to me,” Jesse said while pacing around the room.
“ Or maybe it was Judas. One of those pencil pushers did this. They can't handle that I'm good looking and muscular and the best agent in FVZA. So they need petty little revenge like this,” proclaimed Jesse with growing paranoia.
Julie rolled her eyes. Even if her brother was right on the first two counts, he was wrong about the third. Jesse was about the farthest thing from a good agent. He went to extreme lengths to avoid paper work and wasn't above a three hour lunch break. “You're insane,” Julie said.
“Maybe I am, but we're not going on any mission until this bed issues is resolved. Someone has to sleep on the floor.”
Julie shot her brother a mixed look of shock and anger. “ You mean, you won't just give your baby sister the bed?”
Jesse gazed back coldly. He considered her plea for a moment. “ Alright Julie...fine...we'll rock paper scissor for it?”
The two agents eyes locked like dueling cowboys or ancient samurais. They held out their first and began an ancient ritual. A ritual used to determine outcomes since the dawn of time itself.
“Bed,” yelled Julie as she threw her suit case on to the mattress.
“Fuck,” shouted Jesse as he kicked over a chair in frustration.
“Alright now that we resolved that little dispute, we have to go find Miller. He's going to brief us for this mission and we're last as it is,” said Julie as she walked out the room door.
“Not yet sis, let me hit this place's gym first,” Jesse shouted out the door. He had to stay late yesterday to prepare for the mission, and didn't have time to work out. Regardless, the last thing he wanted to do was be seen with the likes of Judas, Miller, or Benson...even in a loser magnet like a Super 8.
“They don't have one,” Julie yelled from down the hall.
Hell on Earth.
Judder - March 31, 2008 06:13 PM (GMT)
Judder listens to the instructions and when Rhodes hangs up he shuts his phone. Judder reaches back onto the back seat and pulls the gun bag carrying his shotgun into the floorboard and grabs what appears to be a wadded up piece of cloth. He opens the door of the truck and shakes the cloth loose to reveal a confederate battle flag, which he promptly hooks it onto the CB antenna of his truck.
Fifteen minutes later............................
Judder drives through town with windows down past a rather nasty looking hotel and the before mentioned diner, razor looks out of the window on the passenger side. Judder pulls into a parking lot three blocks down from the diner and in a cul-de-sac of sorts. He parks and cracks the window for razor....
Stepping out of the truck and locking it up. Judder walks down the street wearing casual khaki slacks and a light blue button up shirt, all topped of with a pair of well fiitting oakley glasses.
He walks up to the diner and stands outside for a minute or two waiting....
Abnet - March 31, 2008 07:32 PM (GMT)
Leon walked up to a hotel door marked 333. This was where Alice said the meeting point was.
He set down one of his suitcases, opened the door and walked in. When he saw all of the other agents in the room look over at him he figured he was a bit late.
"I take it I'm the last to show up? Hope I didn't miss much."
AgentBenson - March 31, 2008 10:29 PM (GMT)
Eric sighed and sat down on the, "No luck...this is what i get for not paying attetion in the breifing." Eric sighed and shook his head as he started to assess the siution thinking for a second he heard his phone ring all of the sudden it was his speical office ringtone and after awnsering it he nodded "I see room 333....all right all right tell the other agents i'm on my way" Eric sighed and looked over at his bags and after putting his laptop and psp on thier respective chargers he made sure his anime dvds were all there and he smriked a bit "Once a geek always a geek I suppose" said Eric to himself as he started to head out the door locking it and making his way to room 333 hoping he wasnt late for the on site breifing.
After about a monute of traveling he knocked on the door and showed the FVZA agent ID card that he had hidden in a speical place in his wallet and the door opened for him as he took an empty seat next to leon. Eric then looked at the men and just started to listen slilently "Christ supervisiors back home are gonna ream my ass out when they hear i was late for another breifing" He thought to himself
goteamventure15 - March 31, 2008 10:29 PM (GMT)
The Sawyer siblings continued walking down the hall until they reached Room 333. Jesse let out a big sigh.
" Just give me a second. My mind needs to prepare itself for the epic amount of lame on the other side of that door," Jesse said.
Julie knocked on the door before opening it.
AgentBenson - March 31, 2008 10:41 PM (GMT)
Eric then saw who the last two empty chairs were for and after leaning back in his chair he started to think about what he had heard about those two they were good agents useful in dealing with humans expert fast talkers. Eric then looked at the agents and seeing all thier chairs filled up he started to listen to the other agents talk "So has anybody thought up any ways we can pentrate the fight club. I mean i did see a rag shop a few blocks back"
goteamventure15 - March 31, 2008 10:58 PM (GMT)
"If you guys want to dress up like a bunch of hobos, go for it," interrupted Jesse. " Julie and I have a much better plan. I'll pose as an underground fighter and eventually someone will get send us an invite. Once I get a location, you guys can swoop in."
Jesse laughed and gave a little smirk.
"Just let me get one round in. I thinking going going toe to toe with some undead could be a lot of fun."
Abnet - March 31, 2008 11:36 PM (GMT)
"I've got pretty similar orders." Leon said to Jesse. "I'll stick with you..." Leon flipped open the suitcase containing all of his guns. "... or I could find my own way in if you don't need any immediate backup."
Maelstrom - March 31, 2008 11:43 PM (GMT)
"I think going toe-to-toe with some undead could be a lot of fun."
For a minute there I couldn't believe my ears. Who was this? Sawyer, Jesse. Rookie straight from the Academy, I could smell the bravado wafting from his green orifices. My God, the youth these days.
Once again, the world is in no shortage of idiots. Even in the FVZA.
"Yeah that's a great idea, kid. Wait for an invite to an illegal fight that's been kidnaping people for its fighters. You go do that, I'm sure it'll be a big help."
I stretched and glanced at everyone else who've arrived. Even the grossly late ones.
"Anybody else think that's a great fucking idea?"
AgentBenson - March 31, 2008 11:46 PM (GMT)
Eric listended to them men talk and he started to speak looking down at both men his glasses lowered down on his nose. "If this is the plan were gonna try I can call my girlfreind back home she has some freinds that can help get the word about about jesse being an elilte pit fighter and i can probaly call in requests for a couple of m14 rifles and a gernade launcher from miami branch but in the immedtie short term jesse i want you to come talk to me later if you want to be an underground fighter i think my metal loulivesille slugger might want to provide back up as well...or i can just come with you so you boys have at least one fan in the crowd along with an extra gun"
Cyber78 - March 31, 2008 11:48 PM (GMT)
"If anyone wants to pose as a hobo or an underground fighter that's fine with me. As long as it's only volunteers doing it I don't think we'll have too big of an issue. Just keep in mind that hand to hand with the undead isn't something the Surgeon General would recommend. Anyhow we've all got our methods of how we plan to infiltrate, so let's get out there and do this. Oh and Eric, don't worry about weapons. We're pretty well covered." I said to the group.
I straightened my tie, grabbed the keys to my rental car, and picked up the duffel bag that I'd loaded gear into. I started to walk towards the door and was getting a bit anxious to get out and see Branson. Branson might be a tourist trap, but it's better than most place's we've been to contain outbreaks.
Maelstrom - March 31, 2008 11:58 PM (GMT)
I sighed. A big, deep, frustrated sigh that said I was fuckin exasperated. The things we do to placate the recruits these days. Sooner or later this kid's going to come up with an idea spectacular enough that it gets him killed. No guarantee that this one isn't it.
Fuck it, if Miller gives the okay, I guess he's gonna have to live with losing an agent.
I dropped the clip of my pistol and checked the rounds inside. Full to the brim, I should probably stick a round in the chamber too. With that, I stuck the H&K back in my holster. Now the question was, hobo or stakeout?
Or maybe a bit of both?
"Miller, how we doin' in the gadgets department? Have we got any tracking beacons?"
Abnet - April 1, 2008 12:01 AM (GMT)
Leon closed his suitcase and stood up.
"Right then, I'll scout out potential entrances to the fighting ring an hour or two before dark and get us a clear path in for when things start to heat up. If I have to I'll radio you guys for backup if I have to 'take the place' of one of the fighters before I can get any good information. Should we get started?"
AgentBenson - April 1, 2008 12:09 AM (GMT)
"I dont see what the problem is with getting started frankly im bored as hell and for a place that prides itself on being a tourist attraction the wifi links here suck so the sooner we save the day the sooner i can get home and back to dealing with outbreaks of zombie refugees from cuba" Eric then smriked a bit and started to slowly get to his feet "Maybe i can come with you Leon" he asked
Abnet - April 1, 2008 12:13 AM (GMT)
"Fine by me." Leon said to Eric."Just don't get spotted or killed before we can do anything productive."
AgentBenson - April 1, 2008 12:17 AM (GMT)
Eric smriked and walked next to leon and stood next to him "Dont worry one of my mentors while i was doing some intern work in the FVZA before i was granted full feild agent staus was a former shadow so i at least know the basics of stealth...that and i play alot of tatical espionge video games..so you can count solid snake and sam fisher as my trainers too" eric then grinned wider a bit pleased at his own little geek joke "But all kidding aside dont worry i may not look it but i know how to keep myself from getting killed"