Thriller The Sins of the Fathers

ooc: Very much combined with Fin.

Carl "Charles" Weber
The House in the Eye of the Storm

He read the reports. Blood analysis was on it´s way, but the men had found enough blood to assume the girl and anybody else was dead. What they found in the neighbours house trash had been more interesting. A perfect hiding place, a so-call Besoin-trash, which was underground and could only be brought up once a week with the right key and car. One of his men had jumped down and found body parts there, though. A lot of bodies were in the house in Tarpenbek, but only one had been hidden. The first, criminal investigation technique implied the only hidden one was always the first. The identity was easy to confirm and Carl cut the line and gave himself a moment to soak in this fact. Three days dead, they said. Maybe two. Anyway, not alive yesterday. Yet, Markus said he delivered her to her "father".

Laura Blohm.

He mad a mental remark, to find out a lot about her. Slowly he understood. It all made sense.

Markus was still pondering over the facts and like humans did, immediately began to get it all wrong. It was natural. Carl had never felt a grudge or disgust for their lack of accepting the truth. He felt that to be a blessing, as he understood that the whole Change might only have come about, because he fell into the same trap when confronted with another existence-changing truth. He had accepted it too late, too. He leaned back, looking at the satellite phone, as Markus pondered over Superpowers and equaled himself with Carl. Calling Carl an immortal was actually kinda funny, as it was like calling a human an ant, because they both had DNA. With a sigh he appeared right behind Markus and the man was very concerned of any computer glitch. Carl did not comment on it, as he had got most of Markus information already, while Markus read it. But he had to make sure there wasn´t anything new. Nothing he had overseen.

?So God is a potential pedophile. His daughter hates him and she is probably right about it and I would say the key to it all is where did he go to in the mid-nineties? Why hide this fact? Police was done, no charges. He did not need to leave or hide. He could have rebuilt his reputation easily. Look at his awards; he might have been the greatest linguist of his time. But where does someone like this go? Scientists need libraries, exchange with colleagues, the whole academic support. He cut himself of. And I´d say, he did so because whatever he worked on was by it´s nature too dangerous or too secret to stay in the open. So we find where he went and we find where the Change comes from. For a day we are making remarkable progress.? Carl smiled and turned to Markus. ?And Markus, you don´t have superpowers. I am sorry.? Carl padded his shoulder and smiled amused.

No, his smile looked amused. Deep down he was satisfied Markus did not yet understand. Their only power was a deeper understanding of the state of things, of creation itself, something that came to them in time, when these immortals saw patterns never recognizable in a lifetime. It was good to know that Falk had not created anymore short cuts for his Prophet.

Then again, Markus would understand eventually. As they came closer, he would be forced to see the truth. And Carl wondered if he could allow him too. Maybe it was time to blindfold God. Taking another factor out of the equation and doing him a favor by that, probably.

[image=http://kreuzungsperspektive.de/pp/c5/365.m2.jpg]

?Activate the Bluetooth.? Carl then said and returned into a standing position, allowing Markus to get back to the keyboard. He waited until the man did as he was told and uploaded the map of Kiel from his phone. ?You see the flagged mark? There we found two lifeforms. One is a child, the other is a man who seems to be in pretty bad shape. We received the GPRS signal of Robert Freunds car only a street away from it. It looks like Thomas told you the truth. Your daughter is in Kiel.?

Carl looked at Markus and then his phone got

 

ooc: LordT approved post

Janice
Near Tierpark, Battleground Schnelsen

She began to run. Her gun was empty, her targets dead. Thomas had shown to be ressourceful. Had he been trained by someone? had she hung out with some sort of secret agent all along and never realized it? It was hard to say, really. Something was odd about how he did it. It was so effective. So cold and calculating, how he threwe the grenades out and killed those men. It was cold-blooded. But maybe he just had overcome doubts to save her?

At the side of the house Janice saw a woman in a green uniform running. Without anything to shoot, she couldn´t do a thing about it. The sniper, she guessed. Running on, she finally passed the scene, where the men had taken cover. Bullets had poured into the car she had taken cover behind. Hundreds of them had ripped apart metal and steel to get to her. She had considered herself dead. Dead and stupid. Then the rumbling had saved her. Thomas had saved her.

"Thank you." She smiled at him, as she pressed herself against the wall. Looking around the corner the third soldiers lay dead inside. A headshot. "And you are sure you´re not Mossad or something?" She said and had to laugh. "The fourth is running down the street, obviously she got no reinforcment to wait for or can´t contact them. Maybe we should get going." Janice smiled in relief. "Believe it or not, this was my very first firefight." She looked at the two exploded men. Fraggrenades had hit them and their euqipment, so the guns were damaged and certainly unreliable. Inside lay the assault rifle of the headshot-man. She slipped in and took it from the ground. RK95tp. She was used to identify weapons. She had never used anything that big though. "Can you use one of those?" She asked Thomas.

Tag: LordT

 

GM question:


Is anybody interested in a short, but intense game that serves as a prequel to SotS? The Sins of Days Long Past? If so voice it here or PM me, if you want. Thank you.

---

[b]Thomas Schröder[/b]
[i]Battlefield Hagenbeck[/i] (not Schnelsen anymore)

Thomas looked at her and sighed. The sniper was gone. He wondered if that was good or bad? Deended on if he had a ressoruce to find them again, he assumed. If not hamburg was a big city. The wouldn´t meet him by chance. he looked at this AK-47 and took it from Janice. Checking it and then taking the clips from the dead soldiers belt. "I actually didn´t do civil duty but the obligational army service. They didn´t make us John Rambo exactly, but yes, I know how to use oneo of those. Basic training, at least." He realized she had no weapon. Defenseless, so to say. The thought made him smile. He wondered if he just turned the gun and shot off her legs to watch her bleed out . . .

But instead he handed her the gun of the dead soldier. "He should have more ammo on him." He smiled. Trust. A weapon not to be underestimated, if he wanted to lure Laura out. Trust. he would kill her in due time. Not yet.

[i]Not yet.[/i]

Did he wanted to leave her alive?

He smiled at himself. The natural reaction was to wish to kill someone by now. How ironic. Self doubt came from the idea of liking somebody.

But after all he loved Laura. And hell, he would slice her to pieces. Real slow.

"And no, I am not Mossad. I am a DJ. But what can I say? Music is a rough business." He smiled at her. "So what now?"

[b]Tag: Sirak[/b]

 

Chapter 1 ? An American Nightmare

?Blessed be Jehovah my rock,
Who teacheth my hands to war,
And my fingers to fight:? ? Psalm 144:1 (ASV)

IC: Joel David Shepherd
Target House, East End, DC

The take down of the assailants could have been one hundred times cleaner then what had just happened. ?Yet another downfall of a hastily thrown together combat unit. Hawk would have known automatically which guy to take out and how to avoid being hit.? Shep thought to himself. His battle-buddy, Hawk, had been with Shep since they both were just Privates ten years earlier. They were always part of the same team and even got promoted at about the same time. They had rehearsed MOUT tactics some much that they could have cleared an entire house in their sleep.

Unfortunately Fuso was not Hawk. Shep immediately went into Combat Lifesaver mode and dropped his weapon so that it was slung across his back on his combat sling. He grabbed Fuso by the tactical harness and dragged him into some cover. ?Keep your weapon trained on that staircase.? He ordered his injured teammate. Shep ripped the field dressing out of Fuso MedKit and hastily dressed the wound in the soldier?s side.

?Listen, that should hold until we can get you to a Medic,? he said as he took up his rifle and checked the rounds in the magazine that was loaded, ?Your new responsibility is covering this back room. If any unfriendlies come in here you light them up. Do you hear me?? Shep took a quick survey of his surroundings and noted the footsteps that sounded above him. ?I am going to clear those stairs and look for our girl up there. If anyone comes down those steps but one of us, blast ?em.?

Shep crept over to the staircase, crouched down against the wall, took a quick breath, and then ducked around the corner fully prepared to send a hail of bullet up at anyone pointing a weapon at him.

[image=http://www.usafa.af.mil/shared/media/photodb/web/110813-F-YY717-088.jpg]

TAG: Fins

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Den/Computer Room

Songs sometime seem longer, it?s one of those oddities of life, whenever you wish they would end. . .they last.

That was how he felt about this song now. How many times had he song this song after the divorce? He had tried drinking, didn?t last a weekend. Instead as his brother would often joke, he had gone to fall into a bottle but instead fell into a karaoke machine. He would miss him.

Karl was speaking in statement led riddle-less questions, he hated it when his boss did that during meetings. As if he had to walk you through the obvious to see the tip of your own nose. Actually seeing the tip of one?s own nose is a hard thing to do, not as hard as licking your own elbow but still.

Then Weber patted him on the shoulder apologizing that he, Markus, did not have any super powers. Nothing imbued, but that to his perception at least contradicted Weber?s earlier statement about him needing to figure out his own abilities. If he didn?t have any beyond not being able to die then Weber had lied on that point. Contradictions were often the misleading waypoints of changing directions. Or as his Pastor would say, ?Tis? a boon of understanding to rest and pause to understand the truth behind perceived contradictions in the Bible. When found in a man, invest in sneakers.?

Old instructors and old preachers, wells of knowledge granted by time that often are as set as the stones they tread. So they had their moment, Weber looking amused at Markus, standing still in the stretching sounds of a song that rubbed his heart until it felt like it would be raw.

Following instructions, an easy routine to fall into. He activated the Bluetooth enabler on this pile of a machine, and was given a map that could have been of anywhere in recent times with adequate water supplies. There was something though, he needed to stabilize the communications between devices and not. . .let the connection suffer as he had let the internet connection suffer.

The connection was strong, the information was a map and given knowledge a jab to the gut. Lord I want to be a Christian he thought along with the song as he waited for the tears to rise. Just waiting as Karl took a call and stepped out of the room.

Reaching into his bag after a moment he pulled out a set of wireless earbuds and unplugging one of the spare usb drives he plugged them into the back of the iMac. A few key strokes and Bluetooth. . .well he should begin to illuminate the world a little. A few more keystrokes should bring up a connection to the world wide web through the phone if it had enough capabilities that Weber was using. As a billionaire world timer he bet he had the latest in everything.

Then it would be a search for Milton, a search for a map of Kiel to triangulate the position being shown, and a prayer to God. For I want to love everybody, in my heart Lord, in my heart. Contradictions have come twice. It was time to get rid of the office shoes and invest in some sneakers.

TAG: LordTroepfchen, Fin

 

Charles ?Carl? Weber
The House


Carl made sure the door was closed, trying not to laugh hat Markus equaling abilities with Superpowers. If that was Falk´s champion he was less concerned about reaching his target. He was very concerned what to do with him, once he was there. Markus and his denial had not yet allowed him to understand, but what they were looking at here was a worst-case scenario against which the deluge was a picknick. God, the new God was a perverted pedophile living in the underground and probably mentally disturbed? It explained a lot. Even by human standards the Change was a sloppy job for a God. But give a man like this the power over creation . . . what world would he create? What order would he bring? No matter what, he would never even give a thought to the idea of leaving things as they were. He would change things. Without knowing what he did. To suit the world his twisted needs.

A man who institutionalized his daughter to get rid of child abuse charges? Such a man was dangerous.

Another dangerous man was on the telephone, also slightly less dangerous than Carl once thought.

?I got you in Washington. Leaves only you and me.? Milton Prest´s voice was triumphant. Ego. Where had he infected himself with the worst of all human flaws? The need to self-assure oneself of the worth inside the endless cosmos? Carl knew men who unraveled temporal physics who felt small and guys who the same time chatted up another temporary life form in a hungry female body and felt like Gods, because they managed to perform a reproductive rite for the third time the week.

It was shocking that Milton´s habits seemed to fit the second better than the first. And certainly, they were not worthy of something as old and knowledgeable as he was.

?Oh Milton. Your treachery took so long. I almost thought you wouldn´t make it before it was all over.? Carl laughed into the phone. ?Thanks for Nevada, by the way. I was almost afraid you would be too afraid to do it.?

?Oh did I throw a wrench into your fine-tuned machine?? Milton grinned through the phone.

?No, you acted as you were predicted to. Milton, you are two steps behind and it´s not three, because I don´t know if I need you to catch up eventually.?
?Arrogance? That is new Carl??

?No, I just am sad how easy it was. Well, you got the President? A few nuclear weapons? Oh no, an army perhaps? Milton you have become so human you are sharing their worst trademark. The reasons and means how you get your desires to become realities are pathetic. That made it so easy to play with you.? Carl smiled. He already knew the reaction. Anger.

?Oh, did it? Looks like Tony had his own game and he seems to cause a bit more trouble in Nevada than you wanted him to, did he??Milton´s anger was beneath pressed out words.

?Tony? Tony is my equal. He has always been. Different, but we always respected us. It breaks my heart to see him work against me now, but I know he just does what he thinks is our dead fathers will. Bad conscience, another infection of the soul you two suffer from.?
Milton paused a moment. ?Who do you think tipped him off? About Nevada? Did you think I don´t recognize the device when I see it? After all, it was made out of us.?
Carl felt his body freeze. Milton had made sure the others got to the future. He had made a final swing of the sword of fate another battle to be one. A lost cause, probably. Carl felt his own frustration. Had he underestimated him? His mind calculated a million possible consequences of this and then he felt something human, too. He had to laugh.

?You know what? An hour ago I would have screamed in anger. My apologies. It looks as if you finally learned to see beyond the obvious, old friend. Too bad it won´t help you. While you planned my murder, I planned yours. And I have something better than nuclear weapons. You know that. Give regards to my son, when you meet him.?

Milton stayed silent, impossible to read his emotions. When he spoke he was cool. ?The endgame of both of us won´t be an easy one, Carl. But my goal is much

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Streets

Looking at the ease of his search results he stared at the information given to him. It was a carrot, and somewhere there was a string. If there was one thing you learned by watching children?s educational cartoons was never trust a carrot with a string attached.

A few more and he had the same programs from ESTI now attached and imbedded in Karl?s phone. Banishing the thought he continued to look at results and further pulled his mind away from such things when something popped up, something unexpected. Laura Blohm, like a rash she appeared to be spreading, as she was apparently outside the police building whilst he had been watching her inside it.

If he trusted the words of Weber, then he had to trust that his initial instincts about Sebastian were correct, and that time travel was a viable option. This meant that she survived her wounds. To be where? Why there of all places if she was the future hope of humanity? This brought up so many time paradox?s that it brought into question the possibility of predestination back into question.

After all, if she had already time traveled back into the past, then being from the future that would mean that she had already been shot and healed. Already knew exactly what was about to happen to her and had not stopped it, but chose this path that led him to bring her where she did not want to go at the time of her being wounded. In a round about way that meant that she had given her consent passively in not meeting or stopping him when he had left in the car with her in the back seat.

That gave him some comfort. Some absolution for one thing that had troubled his mind since he had found those files on Sebastian, still she also was sited in Berlin three hours ago. Time travel he supposed also promulgated the possibility of transversing space as one transverses time. So it was then, Laura was here and there, whenever she so chose.

ESTI was gone, an entire resource had simply vanished, he probably still had access if the Russian servers were up, but he doubted they had anything pertinent to what he was actually curious about. But then, his own connection dissipated into the ether. Weber had turned off his phone most likely.

Also Karl was reentering the room, didn?t matter he would hopefully be able to manage some more time later. For now he set about the safe disconnects for his thumb-drives. Weber meanwhile decided to baffle him. His mind was still, he felt it tug to stampede at revelations but reigned it in to listen as more was laid out about Darwin, Einstein, and Nietzsche. An odd comingling.

Alicia, Alicia. Why did this man dangle that carrot so? Did he not believe his own words, did he ignore Markus? own thoughts whenever she was brought up? Did he not feel like a Betazoid or was it more detached? He followed Karl out stifling his own screams at the man for bringing Alicia up and claiming she was alive. If Karl truly believed the man he had met was a ?little god? then certainly the visions or travels of such could confirm something so simple as the life or death of his little girl.

So before the man could leave he reached a hand to give a parting hand shake and focused on one singular thought in reply, I found Laura.

TAG: LordTroepfchen, Fin

 

Janice
Near Hagenbeck


What now?

Of course he was looking for leadership in her. After all, it was her having been working for the Government.

Yet, Thomas looked a lot more competent than one thought. The German Army, sure. Until 2011 every German boy of 18 was drafted into service for 9 month. Wehrdienst. They were said to play war for two month and then get desk job, while professional soldiers did the real work. Thomas was probably en exception. But no matter how short their training was, he could handle an assault rifle and she could not. Her training in these things had been superficial at best. Worse even, she had no training in leadership. Computer security and system administration. Data extraction. She was even good with powerpoint and excel.

"I don´t know, Thomas. I don´t know. I need to report somewhere, all that I know. I need to report them that Laura Blohm has escaped and we need to find her and the daughter of Markus and find out what this bohmann syndrome is all about." She sighed and looked at Thomas. "If I do they will arrest and possibly kill Markus for treason. He helped Laura escape, you know? And now it looks like he is in league with Karl Weber. A man who had his fingers in all of this for far too long to be innocent. I mean, he researched the bohmann syndrome, the girl of his girlfriend had the Bohmann-syndrome, a little girl which is baby-sitted by Laura Blohm who has an unusual geneitc anomaly, too. By God, we cannot even rule out she is an alien or something. And I run around here looking for a dead superior, as if he could give me orders." She allowed her head to hang down. "I need to report. I need to turn Markus in. I barely know him. But if not, I sacrifice the world for a guy I feel sorry for, because he has lost his daughter. Just, that he hasn´t right? She is with Robert, right?"

Janice cowered down for second to think and then looked up. She looked around, then staring at Thomas.

"The network is down, right? But you know what? I think I can open a connection, if I get to one of the transmitters for UMTS. Long range, probably not. But I bet someone is listening into it from the satelites above or from drones exploring the area." And again she would need his help. Why had he killed these men with such ease? Why did he bother so little now? Shock? Maybe. Why did she care so little?

"Then I get the whole damned british army here if I have to and we get Laura and put her into the best secured lab in the world and find out, what the hell is wrong with the world." Janice smiled. It was a rudimentary plan, but it was a plan.


Tag: LordT - we talked about it, didn´t we?

 

Karl Weber
The House in Schnelsen, Car

He took the man´s hand and his grip was tight.
Or has she found you?
That was his answer. Laura Blohm. Another piece of the puzzle. But he was not yet ready to solve it, as the pieces still were attached to too many dangers. No, the center-piece. He needed to fin the center-piece. At least he would be able to look at the sites Markus had called up. And find out, where she was. And then?
He smiled at returned to his car. ?You need to tell me all about it, once you are back. I think you will be a lot more focused, once Alicia is save. And to tell you the truth, so will I. I have seen her grow up for years. She is such a bright young lady. Get her for both of our souls peace.? With that the door closed. Karl leaned back and closed his eyes. He waited for the car to drive on, before he picked up the phone. He had his own plan of how to find Laura and Sebastian and how to make this thing right.
?Take me to Kiel and then evacuate everybody to the boat, my dear Diana. And please, see if you can get us an airplane?? He dialed the number and leaned back. ?Yes, activate the telecom; I need to make a call.?

It was good to have an advantage. But right now, it was bad his rivals had one, too.

---

[b]Thomas Schröder[/b]
[i]A few more miles north[/i]


[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9sV2rsUql4&feature=related]He looked at her with his blue,[/link] cold eyes. Laura Blohm. She was after Laura. Of course she was, wasn´t all of ESTI?

Thomas felt the weight of his gun in his hands and sighed. Something was wrong and for a moment, ofr a second he felt it. In his bones, in his spine. As if cloud vanished for a few seconds and made room for . . . the sun. What? He had killed the woman he loved. He did love Laura, right? He had the inner need to cut her too pieces and nothing would keep it from doing it again and again, as long as she spawned . . . as WoW players would call it. Two of her? Something inside of him hoped it would actually be more. But that did not change the fact he had loved her. Only killing her meant something.

A grimace took control of his face for a second, as Janice mused about Markus and Alicia and blah, blah.

The grimace came from the memory of the journalist. He had tried her as a stand in. Nothing. The ESTI agents were necessary. Alicia? Not even what he did to her gave him the slightest hint of satisfaction. But Laura. Laura had been pure ecstasy- And there was more. He needed to find her, still. He simply needed to find her. And he would never find her if Janice found her first.

?Sorry.? It was all he said, as he pushed the hammer of the AK-47 back and switched to single shot. Her eyes widened, as the gun rose to her head. She was still cowering at the wall in front of him, with no chance to reach any safety or weapon in time. She opened her mouth and then her face ceased to exist, as he pulled the trigger. She collapsed and Thomas almost cried about this complete absence of satisfaction this had given him.

He raised the gun and gave another five single shots at her. Her body shook in spasms, but it meant nothing to him. With a sad sigh he gave up. Taking the ammo she had given him he looked at the reflection of himself for a moment that appeared in the last piece of intact window.

Then he smiled.

?At least I am a good looking psychopath, right??

[b]Tag: Sirak, Mitth[/b]

ooc: Sorry, Claire.

 

Janice
Hagenbeck


Her brain never realized Thomas treachery. And it certainly did not realize it was about to die in time. Then the trigger was pulled and the light was all there was. Just seconds after she had decided to betray Markus to ESTI her decision became irrelevant.

Janice was gone.

Tag: Nobody, really

---

[b]Protocol 2:[/b]


Doctor: So, you came back.
Laura: Yes. I thought about what you said and I think . . . there is nothing out there. Nowhere to go. So why not find out what you can do for me.
Doctor: I can help you do something for yourself, Laura.
Laura: One condition.
Doctor: Sure.
Laura: We do not talk about what my father did to me.
Doctor: Laura, we will never talk about anything you do not want to talk about. I promise. So what do you want to talk about?
Laura: A dream. I had a dream and I need to talk about it, because it felt so terrible, horrifying real.
Doctor: Sure, what did you dream?
Laura: Two chairs. Two empty chairs in the loft of my dad. I mean, our mother lived there most of the time nad painted, but in my dream I felt it was mine. Two chairs and the sight over the city. You know what? I believe there was nobody in the city. I felt alone. Very alone.

[image=http://img.wallpaperstock.net:81/an-impossible-dream-wallpapers_7331_1152x864.jpg]

Doctor: Did it frighten you?
Laura: No.
Doctor: So you liked it?
Laura: No, I think the dream-me was used to it. It was well known loneliness I felt.
Doctor: I see.
Laura: And then there was a bird. A strange bird unlike nay I had ever seen.

[image=http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium/bird-dream-greg-patzer.jpg]

Doctor: What did it do?
Laura: It was just there. Not outside my flat, no inside. It just seemed to exist in a non-concrete way, you know?
Doctor: Dreams often are not very logical.
Laura: I wanted to say something to it, but I couldn´t. Then I realized, I had no mouth. I had no mouth. As if I had never had one. Then I woke up.
Doctor: A strange dream.
Laura: How many years you had to study for this analysis?
Doctor: *laughs* Why do you think you had no mouth? I mean seriously, I am not convinced dreams have a deeper meaning. But if you wanna hear it, I think loneliness, no mouth . . . it is pretty obviously you feel isolated and muted by your father for institutionalizing you here. And it shows now that I have given you the freedom to go. No unusual your body confronts uncomfortable facts, once the crisis around them is resolved. Then again, you might simply watch too much TV.
Laura: Too much TV? We don´t have a TV here.
Doctor: Laura, are you afraid?
Laura: Yes, all the time.
Doctor: Of your father?
Laura: No. But be careful not to breach our contract.
Doctor: You could have told me you did not wanted to talk about the events, not you did not wanted to talk about him. You are smart, you know you did that, because you want to talk about him. If not, say so. I´ll stop immediately.
Laura: It´s okay. No, I am not afraid of my father.
Doctor: Really? Of what are you afraid then?
Laura: I have the wish to kill him. I know I should be passive, a victim, but I need to hurt him. And that makes me afraid. I am afraid of what I have become, because of him, Doctor. I am afraid of myself.

[b]Tag: Nobody[/b]

 

ooc: Combined with WingedJedi and approved by Fin for god-modding.


Rufus Jameson
Market somewhere in Tokyo

First guess was usually right. They had a very special party in mind when they chatted him up. To convenient.

And then the Brit showed up with a nice collection of photos. Rufus had made those of cheating husbands. Some private eye, probably, hired by some shady figure in Nepal. Most of them were from Nepal. One was from New york. All were made after he met Prest. Because the suit he wore he had bought for that meeting. So they had been following his trails all along and had helped him not a bit when the world came down on him? thanks for nothing.

The man spoke with a British accent and had all in all something absolutely not American about himself. He had a gun under his jacket though which he had not drawn or pointed at Rufus. the first person who tried to talk to him without a weapon pointed at him . . . and yes, Lilith long legs and sweet smile counted as a weapon . . . in a long time. And before Rufus can say something evasive, something smart and funny, there is a gun in the game. Directed at the back of the head of this pal. Japaense gang, his first thought had indeed been right.

Rufus smiled at the surge of adrenaline. It became a comfortable habit to have one of those, he thought. And then he reacts quick. Not the first time he is in such a situation and the decision to kill is so easy made, it terrifies him. Somewhere on the way of his hand to his gun, it stayed close to it all the time, so this is a short way, he has already deicded these kids have no right to life. No, he decides not to decide, not to care, not to evaluate or think; but act. Kill. that is the order of his brain to his body, to be precise. nepal made him better at that.

As he slips from his chair, his knee rammed into the Brits stomach. It is not an attack, but the fastest way to get the man´s head down and out of the firelane of the Japs gun. The Brit collapses almost instantly, bending double and falling to the ground. The movement is fast and exaggerated- perhaps he understands the nature of Rufus's plan.

It is only a second, but the gun of Rufus is already in his hand. It had six shot .45 ammo. There are four targets. A girl with a sub and the pal with the glasses. Rufus sees it all unfold in aweful clearity and incredible slowness. The finger, the bullet leaving the gun and arriving in the mans face, making it vanish in an explosion of meat, bone and blood. The girl grabbing her gun and the second shot hitting her shoulder, the third hitting some part of her head. She collapses and before she hits the floor the gun fires it´s fourth shot at the youngest of the gang. He dodges it and jump into the imbiss. As he comes up Rufus fires the fifth shot and hits him in the chest. the adrenaline dampens the impact of his actions, the movement was too fast for him to reflect on it. Both the girl and the boy are alive, but probably not for long. The fourth of them runs. Rufus considers shooting into his back, but it is only a reflex. He is no murderer.

But the Brit is. A shot fires out and the fourth gang member is stopped in his tracks, the bullet flying straight into the small of his back. At Rufus's feet, the Brit has his gun drawn, and wisps of smoke are spiralling from the barrel.

"Bloody savage," mutters the Brit, holstering his weapon once again. So he is a killer. Well, Rufus could not say he held it against him. These men were certainly less troublesome when they were dead.

"Everything okay? I think we should really consider something more private to talk." Rufus said and helped the Brit up. he handed him back hit photos and nodded. "Rufus Jameson. But you know that already, do you?"

"Charmed," coughed the Brit, grimacing and holding his stomach. "Normally I like to at least shake hands and have a chat before getting down to the rough stuff. But thank you for your quick thinking. We should move."

"I am American, I get the rough part out of the way, early, you know

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Streets

The being was inscrutable, and frankly a little disquieting. The firm handshake was solid farewell at least, but perhaps a little firmer then he was comfortable with. Then again being immortal probably meant his hand would regenerate. . .in time.

The same might be said of his heart, Alicia. The name still tore through his hearts gapping wound like a mid-winters rain. It was terrible in the worst way, then Weber was gone, and with him a sense of solidarity even if torturous as a demons companionship at times, he felt himself missing it.

Getting on the bike he started it up and sat there, just for a minute looking out upon the world, or at least what he could see from the seat of a stationary motor-cycle in a deserted Hamburg. Taking a deep breath he returned over those conversations, and came to one conclusion, he needed Janice. A sounding board that was for lack of a better term, human. At the moment he did not trust Weber?s, not with all those jabs into his heart, he did not trust his own with a wound so sore, he definitely did not trust Sebastian?s, and Laura was a question, not a solution at the moment.

Taking out the wireless buds he planted them in his ears and connected the other toggle to his blackberry. Which for now was a glorified iPod until a cell-tower started working again. Hitting a button he set it to play another one from his brother, a priest with a sense of humor after his divorce. As the beat started he sighed, it didn't fit. Although considering he was dealing with something claiming to be an angel with the characteristic knife twisting of a demon's glazed honesty that also was apparently a betazoid. . .he had to learn dissonance, he knew that much.

Starting the bike, well on the fifth try isn?t so bad, right? He set off at a slow pace north, and as he became more comfortable he picked up speed, until he was recklessly riding without a helmet, a bag flapping on his back, and a mind trying to remain clear whilst looking for the vehicle Janice and Thomas had left in. He needed to see her, to lay it out if only a little and find which way she pointed.

TAG: LordTroepfchen, Fin

 

Thomas Schröder
Near Hagenbeck

He dragged Janice into the house last and looked at the three bodies and their parts. It became a sore and dull experience to kill. The thrill was almost completely gone. But he knew when he found Laura, this would change. She would make him complete, again. Put the E into Ecstasy, so to say.

Laura.

Laura . . .
Well, he had made sure they did not get Laura and keep her safe from him, but he wasn´t any closer to get her himself. The worst thing was, he was running out of options. Lighting his Zippo he looked down on the bodies and then sprayed the lighter recharge all over them. When he was sure it was enough he set it on fire and turned to go out. He almost expected screams, but the dead bodies could not scream, they just lay there and were eaten away by fire.

When his phone rang it was almost surreal.

He checked it and indeed the network seemed to be back up. The number was unknown to him, but he took it to his ear and picked it up.

?Laura??

?I am afraid not.? The deep male voice answered from the other side. It sounded almost amused. Thomas recognized the caller immediately.

?Oh, so you could have activated the O2 network at any time, yes? I don´t know if Markus would like to hear that. He could have called his daughter.?

?His daughter is dead, Thomas. You dumped her into the trash in the yard behind your flat, the one belonging to the next house. And before that you killed her in most unspeakable ways. I know that, you know that. We both have little time, so will you listen??

?I am listening all the time.? Thomas bit his lip. So it wasn´t an exclusive secret anymore. He looked back at the burning house and passed the next corner. Behind the electricity regulation box that stood there since the sixties probably he took cover and sighed. ?Have you told Markus??

?I told him we found her in Kiel.? Carl Weber answered.

?So you want me to kill him? No longer useful, hm??

?Let´s say killing him is not an option. If you kill him, he will come back. Just like Laura did.?

?Why? Why do they . . . ? The beep in his ear told him Carl had hung up. The billionaire obviously was playing his own twisted game here and Thomas was a pawn now. He hissed out air and redialed the number. One ring and Carl was on it.

?Why should I kill him for you then? If he doesn´t even stay dead??

?Because you want to??

?Wrong answer, Weber. Wrong answer.?

Thomas hung up and threw away the mobile. He looked at the AK-47, which seemed to be actually some other gun looking like an AK . . . hell, what did he care? It was heavy, bulky and unfamiliar. It went right after the mobile. Then he stood up, pressed one of his many pistols into his trousers and gave in to the racing thoughts in his heads, while he began to walk back into the city center.

Markus, Laura, Carl Weber, Janice, Hoshi, Robert, Alicia, Laura. Laura. Laura. Laura. Laura. Laura . . .

?They will one day say, I gave birth to this century.? He laughed about the quote and for a moment he wondered if it was all just someone else doing? A play in which he, Thomas the harmless DJ from Hamburg had been made a villain and murderer so in a cosmic comedy the joke had a little more punch?

Laura, Laura, Laura, Laura.
He would probably never find out. But the thought that he wasn´t responsible did give him no comfort. He realized why that was the case. There was no bad conscience to comfort to begin with. He just enjoyed every moment of it . . . every single, damned moment of it . . .

Tag: Fin

---

[b]Ghost[/b]
[i]Liar in Toyko[/i]

There was a second exit and there were several locks before her door. but why did nobody show up? Her hands shook, as she held the shotgun pointed at the iron door. As the phone rang she almost pulled the trigger. She looked around and then pushed another two locks to closed. hoepfully the had no explosives. hopefully it had just been a wrong alarm or something . . . hopefully . . .

"Yes?!" She asked and sa

 

End of Chapter 4: Saints

Streets of Hagenbeck

Hamburg had many streets and even more cars. Looking for a car Markus had only superficially looked at, was next to impossible. Especially since in the rich suburbs every second car was a Mercedes Benz. Most of them were black and many had Hamburg plates.

But luck was on his side. It wasn´t Janice he met, but Thomas. Walking down the street he just passed, he looked battered and had obviously been in a fight, maybe the fight that had spawned the fire that did not burn too far away.

And Thomas saw him, too. Markus, sitting on a motorbike and looking straight at him, as he passed the street he was walking on. Between them were numerous cars, parked on the street for the lack of alternatives. Abandoned. Maybe their drivers had simply vanished.

There was no sign of Weber, or Janice. Just like their first meeting, there were only these two men.

Tag: LordT, Mitth


End of Chapter 3: Nietzsche was right

New Rose Hotel

Ghost had directed them to a cheap but very anonymous hotel near the airport. Nobody had followed them or had come to their attention. The similar looking Japanese were good at hiding in masses, as Rufus found out soon. To his untrained eyes they had all looked the same, until the two men finally reached the safety of their room. Once they were safe ghost herself began to organize her relocation, as he hideout was no longer safe.

Rudyard and Rufus faced each other for the first time without any possible danger now. They were among themselves.

Tag: Winged, Draco, LordT



The Hospital

They looked dead, yet their life signs showed them to be very, very alive. Actually their signs said they weren´t even sleeping, but simply awake. Yet the bodies in the quarantine section did not move or showed any sign of activity. Every one had his own room. Every room was isolated and had a team watching it. And only Leonard´s extraordinary charming ways and contacts to the management of the hospital had allowed them to come so far. Now Lilith and Leonard entered the room where Carl Weber lay on his bed. His aura was powerful, recognizable even after millennia of not having seen him. At least for someone like Lilith. It had been 25.0000 years, give or take a few centuries, that he had met her the first and only time in the burning sands of a region the modern world would come to call Mesopotania. Lilith had been mortal still. It had been her last day as a mortal. And now he lay before her in a hospital bed, in coma. An angel of God sleeping and suffering silently, like a simple mortal.

?I´ll try to get some info what the hell is going on here, okay?? Leonard asked and respectfully moved backwards to leave the room. Once he was out Lilith could feel the stirring, the feeling of awareness coming from Carl Weber. He knew she was there, somehow he sensed it and it was a feeling of powerful recognition.

Tag: Sinre

 

Chapter 1: An American Nightmare


The Battleground East End

Shepard still heard the firefight downstairs continue, as he made his way upwards. The house was a rundown drug center, obviously - a point to sell and consume all kinds of illegal substances. Even as a grenade went of downstairs and made the whole house tremble a guy on the stairs seemed to keep on sleeping.

Upstairs it was almost as if the house had frozen. The direct opposite of the ground floor where the vicious battle raged. The first door Shep kicked open revealed only more dirty beds and drugs. The second was the catch, though. The second he wanted to kick it in, the thunder of a shotgun deafened him. Shot after shot were fired through the wall, which exploded, as the projectiles made their way through. From the other side of this door someone fired and fired . . .

Tag: CPL



The Warehouse

The former bureau was now fashioned to fit the myth the ?Baron? had surrounded himself with. And when Otis, the man he had earlier on allowed to live entered with Lydia, the young man widened his eyes. Lydia could not help but smile. It probably helped the baron to keep his act up, because what was dragged into the room after Lydia was something few people had ever seen in this world. Yet, everybody knew her in a way. Fragments of dreams the world had shared for month now slowly floated to the surface of everyone who laid his eyes on her.

The girl, wearing a sweater with a hood and Jeans and no shoes . . . had no mouth.

[image=http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs46/i/2009/225/b/a/HELP_by_SoundsFromAbove.jpg]

?We got her just in time, my Baron. The infidel military charged into that place only minutes after we got out of there.? Lydia bowed her head and looked at Otis, who immediately bowed deeply before the Baron.

?Are you pleased with the events of the day, my baron? So many will ask permission to enter your realm.? Lydia needed a moment to understand, but he meant California, which had been reported an hour earlier to have been hit by a devastating disaster. Millions were dead. The girl, who had her hands cuffed behind her back, looked around. Her red eyes and mouthless face betraying none of her emotions.

Tag: Ramza






Hospital

Malone sighed. ?I see what you mean. The lawyer might break the case for us, but what does it help, if the girl is dead already? But you know we will not get a SWAT today. No way. Not with the riots and the White House under siege. We could try talking. I know a guy or two from them. Or we call a few of our guys. And do it the old-fashioned way. Guns blazing and all that cowboy ****.? Malone and Garret made their way through the overcrowded hospital floors. The TVS everywhere were reporting of the California disaster. Earthquake. Millions dead. Malone sighed again and again on their way out. On the parking lot he took out his notes and leaned against their car. 2Anyway, we act now or we will only pick up her pieces. What do you say, partner? It´s your call.?

Tag: HS29

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Streets

He didn?t find her, it was disheartening looking at all those vehicles trying to spot one he had entered in a near daze. If it was not for the damage from the apartment that he remembered on the vehicle he would of stopped many times more than he did riding north.

Riding onward he spotted Thomas down a side street, and he had to send a small prayer of thanks that he did not have to stop and look at another Mercedes Benz with Hamburg plates. The man looked ruffed up, as though having just come from something where a tuxedo is never meant to be worn. Removing his ear buds he held them in his hand as he slowed down and began to turn.

The sight of fire, the smell of distant smoke, it cloyed at his senses as he stopped the bike just before running into one of the many littered vehicles, backing it up he slowly moved down the street toward Thomas. ?What happened?? he called out as he rode and weaved toward Thomas. Thomas, what had happened to Janice he wanted to ask, but withheld, waiting for the man to tell his own tale.

It was eating at him though, that smell of fire, that cloying smell, nearly smelled like a barbeque he had attended three summers ago. It also reminded him of watching a surgery where the arteries are burnt to cauterize them, burning human flesh and meat; his gut wrenched slightly within him as he looked at lone Thomas, ?What happened?? He asked again more piteously as he looked upon the man with saddening eyes.

TAG: LordTroepfchen, Fin

 

Thomas Schröder
Streets of Hamburg

Markus. He would bet the caller knew he was on his way towards Thomas when he gave Thomas the advantage of information. Markus. the last link to Laura. The greatest danger to Thomas plans. All in all a man stumbling in the dark. Because he actually did not know where to go. Morality, ideals, friendship, these things had to be quite a burden in these terrible days.

Thomas realized though there was a question unanswered and he demanded of himself, silently, not to make the mistake everybody else was making. that he lied, did by no means point to everybody else speaking the truth. How did a group of finnish amateur soldiers . . . at least they had not been any special forces, or Thomas would have been dead by now . . . known where to find them?

He grabbed his gun and raised it. Pointing it right at Markus chest, he stepped towards him.

"I think you guys from intelligence call it an ambush. And there aren´t that many people who knew we we heading north, right?" Thomas hissed air through his teeth. Although he suspected it was more likely Weber, Markus was a suspect. And he would usually have killed them both. Usually, that menat within the last 48 hours. But he couldn´t kill Markus. Maybe he could kill Weber either. So he had to play . . .

"She trusted you, Markus. She really did. I told her you are a paranoid bastard, far beyond the breaking point, but she defended you and now she is DEAD!"

He allowed his thick German accent to return to his voice and spit out every tone in anger. He was actually angry, so that was easy.

Tag: Mitth

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Streets

The answer was a gun being pointed at him, chest level. He jerked the brakes at that and stood there, looking at Thomas, his mind gearing up for another rat race. The answer that followed the raised weapon was not one he expected after looking down that barrel. Ambush, and the questions of if he had caused it, called it down.

Push, push, push. They all pushed, Thomas was pushing at his apparent break with reality, and laying their limited knowledge of each other for the reasons he would of set Janice and him up to be murdered. He hated to say it but the German accent really grated those words to his Saxon ears in a way that put him more on edge then the gun now did. It scared for a moment before his new life reminded him by his lack of being short of breath, nor weary armed and legged from squeezing the sides of the bike as if his life depended on it.

?I could never!? he shouted back as he felt a tear roll down his cheek, wherever Janice was he hoped she understood. ?I had feelings for that woman Thomas, and I think she did for me.? His mind started racing backward, noting the times Weber had been left with his phone whilst he had been left with a computer, ?I?m nothing but a tech, and at the moment the only connections I have to any organization worth the paper it?s probably written on is with Janice and as of today Weber.?

Weber, it had to be, ?It was either a random sweep of the city, or it had to be Weber.? He continued speaking to himself softly as he worked it out in his head. Stuffing the ear-buds back into a coat pocket he sat there a moment, ?He said I needed to cut my ties with Janice and Thomas lest you stab me in the back, I never thought he would, I didn?t think.?

It was like a storm of understanding in his own brain as a few floating pieces settled out to show him the likely configuration of Weber. He might want to see humanity peek out, he might want to see the continuation of humanity, but to a being over twenty-five-thousand years old. . .what are a few lives? When you have outlived all but a hand full of individuals what were a few lives? In the grand scheme to someone like that, a life was truly a vapor, what did it matter if it was brushed away sooner or later? Only whether if the later affected plans, like taking down a demi-god, then it needed wiped away sooner than later.

Pawns, they were like pawns to Q. To Weber they had to be stepping stones, and if one might trip or hinder progress it was to be removed from the path.

TAG: LordTroepfchen, Fin

 

Rudyard Vane-Tempest
New Rose Hotel, Tokyo

Ghost had come through, again. They were safe for the time being, though Ghost herself wasn't, from the sound of it. But Rudyard had other things on his mind.

He scanned the room for listening devices, even though he was already fairly certain the location was secure. It was an old habit, and therefore provided him with some sense of comfort. Made him feel he had a degree of control over the situation.

When he was finished, he sat himself on the edge of the bed and took a long, deep breath.

"Allow me to recap," he said, looking up at his new companion. "This morning an American intelligence officer rushed into my office with photos of you. Five minutes later, I was running for my life. The embassy was attacked by professional killers and something else that I can't quite put into words. Speaking of which, have a look at this."

He handed over the fourth photo, the only one that had not been of Rufus. It showed a woman of almost unrecognizable features. In some very eerie way it looked like a non-person. On the back of the photo was a handwritten note: And who is she and how did she do this?

"Another mystery, Mr Jameson. It seems that the world has been full of them lately. Perhaps you might like to start offering me some answers before I simply cave into insanity."

Tag: Draco

 

Rufus Jameson
The Hotelroom, Toyko

His hand never left the radius of his gun which would allow him to fast-draw, if he needed. So Rufus had only one hand left to fumble his bottle out of his backpack, check with a quick glance this strange high-tech laptop was still there and then sit opposite to the Brit. He felt his blood pressure dropping, but not dangerously so. He was simply exhausted from his days of fighting death. He was exhausted from turning on the woman he had began to develop feelings for, he was exhausted because he had shot her and then killed another bunch of thugs send after him. He had killed more people in this week than in all his lifetime before. Hell, he had killed five times as many.

And now he was sitting here with a Brit who had photos of him. Photos made by someone who had obviously left the killing to Rufus while watching. They were from New York and early stages of Nepal. The attack on the Nepal kings palace had been shaking of any unwanted watchers, he assumed. All except one, at least.

The Brit began to talk and Rufus was thankful for it. He had no idea how to begin a dialogue about all of this without sounding like a dangerous and delusional man.

"Allow me to recap," Rudyard gave him a long look and Rufus nodded. He was amused about the polite way the man had. It seemed so alien in this dying world. "This morning an American intelligence officer rushed into my office with photos of you. Five minutes later, I was running for my life. The embassy was attacked by professional killers and something else that I can't quite put into words. Speaking of which, have a look at this." Rufus saw him dragging out another photo and handing it to him. It was little more than a shade visible on it, but the text on the back and the context with the other photos made clear who it was.

And who is she and how did she do this?

Well, whoever had written it on the back had asked the right questions.

"Another mystery, Mr Jameson. It seems that the world has been full of them lately. Perhaps you might like to start offering me some answers before I simply cave into insanity."

Rufus looked up and then laughed. He could not help but laugh. This man was fearing insanity, because he had no answers and Rufus was getting to them and he was afraid to go insane because of them.

?I am not sure if knowledge - in this case - is the best defense against madness, my friend.? He shook his head. ?Tempest? I catched yur name right, when you talked to that girl?? He had overheard them as good as he could, but actually he was buying time. What was the right thing to do? Run? Kill the man? Help him? Do him a favour and tell him a lie? Obviously he was a spy. And operative of the UK most likely. What did they call those? Spooks? So could he be trusted?

What does he want, Rufus? It is all about what they want, did Lilith not teach you that?

What did the UK want? Save the world? What else could a Government want? No supernatural intend for an apocalypse. The manpower of a Government alone made sure no insane single person could develop some crazy ideas. They had no millennia old agenda. They were not world-weary or tired. They had interests that needed the world to continue. So they wanted the same as Rufus.

Funny enough, they were worldly institutions. They were human. They were afraid, confused and left alone by these new superior beings. They were . . . natural allies in this.

And alone Rufus would fail. He had come so far, but by now he was pretty much in a corner.

?Okay, I honestly do not know where to begin. So I try the chronological beginning of my own story. Three weeks ago I was hired by a NY based lawyer to help the King of Nepal with some urgent affairs. They paid me a fortune and you know . . . I didn´t even know Nepal had a King, or where Nepal was exactly located. So I accepted. Curiosity. And so I met the King of Nepal and his beautiful assistant. I guess you heard about the attack on his palace last week? The one where they killed him? Me and his assistant were the sol

 

Thomas Schröder
Streets of Hamburg

Well, Weber or not Weber. This game was somebody elses.

Thomas lowered his gun, but kept it ready, as he stared at Markus. "Well,her feelings only got you that far. Her last decision was to hand youand Alicia over to ESTI after all. She wanted to make sure your guys got an honest chance to figure the Change out, no matter what. So, looks like Weber did you a favour. She is dead. Killed by a group of soldiers who were from Finland. And she saved my life."

It was actually the truth. Thomas was almost confused how irrelevant that was to him.

Lauralauralaura.

"So, if you wanna see her, she is somewhere back there were the house is burning. There is also a sniper that took her out, so I would advice you don´t go there. But hell, when did you ever trust me, hm?" Slowly walking backwards he gave Markus a grimace and shrugged. "Guess I don´t trust you either, Markus. So, you know where your girl is meant to be. I go there now and see if she and Robert are okay. You and Weber can avenge Janice or continue your vendetta against the Government or whatever."

Markus had navigation, Markus had a bike, but Markus had probably never been driving from Hamburg to Kiel. Tricky passage. The shortest way certainly wasn´t the quickest and Thomas would bet the Elbtunnel wasn´t free to move through anymore, which meant Markus needed to find a way over the river. He would probably take the bridge and that gave Thomas a good 30 minutes head-start.

Nodding to himself he sighed. "You better hope theyare alive. If I lost them because you held me here, I´ll find you and I swear, you will be the second person I ever kill, Markus. Damned, she isyour daughter!"

Tag: Mitth

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Streets

Looking at Thomas he sighed as he spoke the same lies either in innocence or delusion he did not know and no longer cared. Sighed at the speaking of death and betrayal dragged on. ?She?s dead Thomas. If not then take care of her and say Daddy is sorry he could not be there for her.?

Starting the bike he turned it slowly around until he was heading back south to find a road toward Laura?s last sighting. ?My concern is the living and this change. I?m off to see Laura, and perhaps chat with her demi-god father. It?s time to stare down this Change head on.?

Pushing the engine he made to leave with full intent, it was time to talk and mourning would have to wait. The fact that Janice was planning on betraying him to ESTI was like a drop in the proverbial bucket at this point, after all what did it matter when ESTI didn?t technically exist in a palpable way anymore? Words and ideas upon the canvas of time that held no rhyme, reason, nor even effect at this stage.

His road of life was forking and once more he felt it. Solemnity, of being utterly alone in a sea of death. Low tho I walk through the Valley of Death, I shall fear no evil. . . .Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Yes, they still did. Truly could he trust the words of someone that admitted to being a fallen angel? For all he knew Weber was Lucifer or Legion, in the end it mattered little as they had parted ways. For now, and now he had merely himself to contend with it seemed. Thomas would go one way toward a mirage and he another toward a beacon of hope or damnation. Which it was he did not know, but there was only one way to find out, one way that made itself clear to him.

TAG: LordTroepfchen, Fin

 

IC: Joel David Shepherd
2nd Floor of Target House, East End, DC

As the wall started exploding all around him, Joel's years of training kicked in and he did exactly as he had been trained to do - he hit the deck and looked for cover. Seeing a slightly overturned table he crawled over to it and returned fire into the wall back at his assailant. When there was a slight break in the firefight, he radioed down to the rest of his team. "Sergeant this is Shep, I am on the second floor and taking heavy fire. I request immediate assistance."

TAG: Fins