Thriller The Sins of the Saints

Rufus Jameson
Palace, Chambers

He took the file and memorized the mans face. Only a small time computer guy. Maybe one could call him an language-expert or something. Getting the picture into his head was easy for Rufus. The guy stared rather intense at him from the portrait. Not the eyes of an "ordinary" man. He had ideas where to find him, but saw no reason in sharing. They had hired him to investigate, not to advise. And not Kavesh anyway. He did not trust that man.

"Good, I will be on my way." He said and from above he heard helicopters passing by and then gunfire. Kavesh looked up to and Rufus smirked. "I know I should watch more Discovery Channel, but are you at war with someone or something? If so I should know about it." He asked and drew his gun.

Of course he knew why they were here and all hell broke loose. the smae reason he had been brought here. Soemthing important was going on here. Something extraordinary important and he had no idea what it was. But it justifed any measures, obviously.

He would love to interrogate Kavesh what was so important about the man, only to see his reaction, while he lied. But for that he had no time, anymore. Instead he turned to Lilith and sighed. "How good are you with the native language? I assume you want that guy as bad as everybody else, right? And I will need a translator."

Tag: Sinrebirth, Fin

 

GM-Note: Instead of one big update on Saturday, I´ll do a short one for Chapter IV now and another one Sunday for Chapters not updated, now to keep things going, while I have visitors.


Chapter IV - An American Nightmare


Corben´s Diner

The shots echoed through the small diner. And just as Joshua collapsed his son turned and charged with all the strength he could get out of his muscles. Towards the man who had shot Joshua Rouse. He would not make it in time, no matter how fast he was. Only five centimeters to the left and the barrel stared right at him, as he came closer fast. Gordon Russ finger pressed the trigger. An automatism. Cold and merciless. He missed. Because something suddenly pushed him against the table next to him. John Henley´s bodycheck did save young Rouse live, as the shotgun was hurled to the side. A hundred small bullets ripped a harmless table into pieces that Alex passed.

The slide was dragged back, just as Alex was about to get to the attacker, but again no shot would come from the rifle. Jackson Clay shot first. A shot hit Gordon Russ in the shoulder and hurled him around. the impact of the bullets ripped apart his shoulder nerves. The second shot missed his knee by a centimeter and instead shattered his bone in his upper leg, sending fragments of iit into his body. Then Alex was there and rammed into the screaming Gordon. Ripping him from his feet and hammering him into the ground. The Mossberg slided over the floor and landed right next to John Henley, who had fallen to the floor.

Vashti Schick´s prayers had been heard. Or so it seemed, until she saw the blood spreading on hte floor. And Joshua Rouse lie there, bleeding from a dozen wounds and crying out in pain.

Behind the counter Gil Corben cursed and held his arm. Blood came from a small wound there, but before martha could have a look at him he shook her hands of. "Only a scratch. The father needs help." He looked at Sharon and nodded to the kitchen. "Get Rodger and the first aid and . . . we need to call for help. We need to . .. get someone here. The Sherrif . . . must know." Obviously fighting with control he looked at Sharon, then againat Martha. Blood kept spreading on the floor. Sharon realized the man was loosing a lot of it, very fast.

Tag: All in there . . .

---

[i]
And for those who like to know what is going on in the rest of the world . . .
[/i]
[hr]

[b]Washington D.C., Limousine[/b]

[b]The Man[/b] was only skipping over the files he had got at the airport, while watching the events unfold on the small TV build into the comfortable, oversized limousine from Mercedes.

On the small TV pictures of the devastated [b]Xi´an[/b] and an obviously shaken news journalist from CNN were shown. All in brilliant HD, so no single detail would escape the observers eye. When they began speculate about the reason of the events he smirked and turned his eyes back to the file. Kincade. He closed it and took the next one. A reminder of taking care of Corben´s Inn was there. A request, if reinforment should be send to Prague. For Morris. Too early to reveal himself. And morris could actually look after himself. He ignored it for now and instead turned to the Boston file. Everything seemed to go well there. The Man would have liked more time to smoothen the edges of their rather edgy plan, but that was the nature of these times. Rush jobs. Like the Weber-job.

Yes, Carl Weber´s presence there was disturbing. But considering what was about to happen in Boston, his interest was pretty understandable. Weber would be another rushed job. He had been forced to take care of it personally. An improvised assassin, so to say. He would do. Hopefully.

[color=silver][b][i]Breaking News:[/i] Xi´an explosion came from the nearby Xuo reactor. Terrorist attack can´t be ruled out.[/b][/color]

Closing the Boston file and ignoring all the assembled details he yawned and took his phone. The person at the other si

 

Alex McRea

Home

For they know not what they do...

Or how bloody annoying they were. I was honestly at the point where I wanted to drop a few choice words. Damn Yankees. Honestly I didn't mind the sheriff. He was a decent guy and all. But he was honestly just plain annoying some times. And his two minions annoyed me to no end when they were together. Pinching the bridge of my nose I sighed and shook my head. "No, don't send a patrol. I was probably just reminding myself I needed to go out there. You know how forgetful I am." It was bull**** of course, I knew I hadn't placed it there. But I'd be damned if I was going to let the cops look into it, not with how the Sheriff was acting tonight.

"If I need you though I'll give you a ring. Otherwise I'll get back to minding my own business and not annoying the neighbors and all that." I waved my hand off a bit, basically shooing them off. "And I'll keep it turned down alright?" After that I simply waited, I wanted them gone, once that happened, I'd look into the note, and find out why It looked like it was in John's hand writing.

Tag: GM

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Flughafenhotel Bremen, ESTI Command

Casting his eyes down to the shoes and flooring below he chided him mentally as Jason did so as well. He had reacted impulsively to the barest advice of 'clean up your life first, then go to work' as if it had been a free license of 'go get/check on your family before doing any work'. Actually similar ideas in his mind, but really different meanings if one took in the advice of a dyed-in-the-wool murderous spook, soft spot for techs like him or not.

Although he had no allusions of being some brazen colonial with a gun fetish and social ineptness driven by guilt and anger respectively. No, there was nothing much he could actually do to protect his Ex-wife and daughter. He knew that, and was painfully aware of that, but just knowing, today, tomorrow, whatever will of a word you call soon, that they were alive and unharmed. Because without them, most of the motivation behind his very actions here would be a hollow representation of survivalism, after all the world was going to hell in a handbasket whether he fixed all problems with ESTI servers and technical difficulties if this was the apocalypse.

He smiled slightly when Jonas mentioned the following day's trip, although it merely hung on wanely with the added words the man just had to interject. There was an official file on ESTI servers pertaining to her and his daughter as well as their relationship to him? Well that wasn't that shocking as he considered her currently unpopular line of work recently as well as how that might be used in an effort to fight whatever genetic mutations or biological infiltrations might be happening with the 'Change'.

Still even his addled worrysome mind could tell something had been left hanging at the end of Jonas' words, and it had nothing to do with the Russian servers and it had nothing and possibly everything to do with his calling her after. Stepping with a purpose that had so wholly driven him as of late he went to his indicated work station, dropping his belongings by and under the desk before pulling up the servers connectivity, translation, and firewall software to give it a once over before attempting the uplink.

It was about at the end of the third upload that it hit him, he was watched, being actively watched most likely, as well as all who had ties to him at least having been deeply probed if not watched similarly. Being watched himself was nothing new, hardly even note worthy beyond having to skip watching DS-9 reruns on a work computer anymore, but to think that those he knew were was a bit shock. Perhaps, he could get the systems to try a data retrieval of his Ex and daughters files...after he finished getting the Russian servers up and running with ESTI adequite filters.

Then he would call...perhaps even hear that one voice he wanted and longed to hear happy.

Later, maybe even hold her for the eternity of a perfect moment.

TAG: Fin

 

IC: Sharon Cosner
Corben's Diner

There was another bang. Sharon gritted her teeth and spun up into a half-crouch behind the counter - but by then, it was all over.

The young gunman was on the floor in a pool of blood of his own, alongside his shotgun and a pair of other men who had tackled him to the ground. Standing with a pistol still trained on them all was, incongruously, an older man in a suit. Sharon eyed him strangely. Hadn't he been the one sitting at the bar earlier, reading a bible?

Either way, he had had the reflexes and presence of mind to fire back, and that couldn't be said of everyone. Sharon filed that away for future reference.

Then came sound: Joshua Rouse crying out on the ground, and a curse from Gil Corben. Sharon turned - he was not as injured as she feared initially. "Only a scratch," he said, waving Martha away. He caught Sharon's gaze and nodded towards the kitchen, telling her to get Rodger and the first aid kit.

Sharon nodded and rose. He was holding up admirably well, but Gil was obviously out of his depth here - they both were. Who wouldn't be? He had two men bleeding out on his diner floor. "I'll handle it. Sit down, Gil, keep pressure on that. Martha -" Sharon caught Mrs. Corben's elbow gently on her way and met her gaze directly. "Call an ambulance. Tell them two people were shot and we need them here right away. Then call the Sheriff. Okay?" It would be better if the report came from her rather than their new waitress, but she didn't wait to see if Martha did it. Those wounds couldn't wait. "Rodger!" she called, banging the door to the kitchen open. "Need you outside."

She grabbed the first aid kit from the wall and strode back over to the wounded men. The innocent first, Sharon thought, cracking the kit open and kneeling next to him in one swift movement. This was no trauma kit - it was, at best, equipped to handle cuts and minor burns - and her paramedic days had been over a decade ago, but she ripped open the biggest bandage anyway and pressed it on the wound that looked the worst. "Keep still," she told him, knowing how hard it was to do it through the pain. To the rest, she snapped, "Help me with him!"

TAG: Fins, Mecatolrex, TGI, TSG, swbeauty

 

ooc: This time I post our combined post. This is actually mostly from SirakRomar and a little Fin in between.

Updates in a few hours.


Laura Blohm
U 3, Hamburg

She stood there, as the remains of the station turned into the fleeting dark of concrete walls passed by the train.

Robert had been in Kiel. A sentence with so much more meaning, in the proper context. The moment her mind needed to create that context would never be forgotten by her. The emotional slow motion of a breaking heart. Then it hit her. Robert was gone. Wherever the people of Kiel went to . . . Robert was there, too. He was gone. That was what they called it in the media. Gone. Looking up into one of the screens the city had installed in the subways she saw Chancellor Merkel had given a speech. Calling the "Vanishing" a "great tragedy and a million small ones".

And suddenly Laura realized she was one of them. But the thought was immediately consumed by the realization she had met a Doppelgänger of herself. A woman looking like her. A woman who had pain in her eyes. A woman that her loved Robert. and betrayed him. And now he was gone. A woman like her. Moving like her. And a warning. Not go to her father? Hell, she would never have done that. She hated her father. Why? Why should she go to him?

Then again, if there was no danger of doing so . . . why would she tell herself? The thought could make one crazy. But she knew herself good enough that she would not waste one of two senteces, if she was not in great danger to do so. And it meant something . . .

She was still confused, when she arrived at the Schlump station. And suddenly panic was in hte air. People screamed and something was smashed against the window. A human. Bloody. Hooligans? Maybe police arresting another gang of left-winged youth? Outside chaos and violence melted into a screaming mass of struggling bodies. The people inside screamed. The tried to keep the doors of the train from opening with force. Blocking the mechanism. Fists from the outside hammered into the security glass. And faces, almost not recognizable as human at all yelled and roared against the window, while blood hands smeared against them.

The Schlump had become a slaughterhouse. It only needed thirty seconds. Only thirty seconds and the train began to move again.

Laura had not moved, only stared at the scenes outside. Her body felt like frozen. her mind felt soar. As if too much had entered her mind at once. Then in her pocket a vibration could be felt. A short message. While people began talking, asking questions and slowly calming she took it out and read the SMS.

"Und vergiss nicht die kleine Prinzessin zu retten."

She blinked. Twice and then sat down. Collapsing almost. someone asked her something. She did no listen. The message was send from her own mobile.

Possibly Laura had simply gone mad. The thought gave her comfort, but seeing everybody else shared her vision of things did not help upholding the illusion she made this all up. The little Princess. Laura cursed herself for being late.

Tag: SirakRomar, Fin

 

Note: I told Fin should post it, but actually worked on it afterwards, so before anybody reads Fins version above, here is the revised edition of it!


Laura Blohm
U 3, Hamburg

She stood there, as the remains of the station turned into the fleeting dark of concrete walls passed by the train.

Robert had been in Kiel. In Kiel. he suddenly famous Kiel. A sentence with so much more meaning, in the proper context. The moment her mind needed to create that context would never be forgotten by her. 250.000 people vanished. In Kiel. Everybody. Vanished. In. Kiel. She experienced these thoughts stretching into eternity. The emotional slow motion of a breaking heart. Then it hit her. Robert was gone. Wherever the people of Kiel went to . . . Robert was there, too. He was gone. Dead? No, gone. That was what they called it in the media. Gone. Looking up into one of the screens the city had installed in the subways she saw Chancellor Merkel had given a speech. Calling the "Vanishing" a "great tragedy and a million small ones".

And suddenly Laura realized she was one of them. One of these small tragedies of a woman who had lost her love. But the thought was immediately consumed by the realization she had met a Doppelgänger of herself. A woman looking like her. A woman who had pain in her eyes. A woman that her loved Robert. and betrayed him. And now he was gone. A woman like her. Moving like her. And a warning. Not go to her father? Hell, she would never have done that. She hated her father. Why? Why should she go to him? Where was he actually? Where had he been last?

Then again, if there was no danger of doing so . . . why would she tell herself? The thought could make one crazy. But she knew herself good enough that she would not waste one of two senteces, if she was not in great danger to do so. And it meant something . . .

She was still confused, when she arrived at the Schlump station. And suddenly panic was in hte air. People screamed and something was smashed against the window. A human. Bloody. Hooligans? Maybe police arresting another gang of left-winged youth? Outside chaos and violence melted into a screaming mass of struggling bodies. The people inside screamed. The tried to keep the doors of the train from opening with force. Blocking the mechanism. Fists from the outside hammered into the security glass. And faces, almost not recognizable as human at all yelled and roared against the window, while blood hands smeared against them.

The Schlump had become a slaughterhouse. It only needed thirty seconds. Only thirty seconds and the train began to move again.

[image=http://www.reverseshot.com/files/images/issue24/pontypool.jpg]


Laura had not moved, only stared at the scenes outside. Her body felt like frozen. her mind felt soar. As if too much had entered her mind at once. Then in her pocket a vibration could be felt. A short message. While people began talking, asking questions and slowly calming she took it out and read the SMS.

"Und vergiss nicht die kleine Prinzessin zu retten."

She blinked. Twice and then sat down. Collapsing almost. someone asked her something. She did no listen. The message was send from her own mobile.

Possibly Laura had simply gone mad. The thought gave her comfort, but seeing everybody else shared her vision of things did not help upholding the illusion she made this all up. The little Princess. Laura cursed herself for being late.

Tag: SirakRomar, Fin

 

Chapter I - It´s all about the Benjamins . . .


Martinistrasse, Entering the Eppendorfer Landstrasse

"Sonkou . . . itoma . . . doitsu . . ." The line was breaking up all the time. And Hoshi realized it was not his aunts part of the telephone line, but his that had problems. The message seemed to say he should leave Germany, though.

Then the line suddenly broke down. And before Hoshi could react a whole different voice came from the other side. Saying a single name. Or word.
"Kala-Bhairava." The voice was gnarling and deep. Guttural. And in exactly the second the line broke someone was thrown through a window right in front of Hoshi. out of the Edeka market where they all always bought their food, except the high prices. Just because it was so nice, it was nearby.

[image=http://farm1.static.flickr.com/151/417654207_c31a9f46a7.jpg]

It was a woman, bleeding from cutting wounds. And Hoshi´s phone rang again. Another call from his aunt, as a young man with a baseball bat climbed through the shattered window in pursuit if the bleeding, screaming woman.

Tag: Ben_Stormrider


Tarpenbekstr. 55

Thomas entered the room and a single mail was blinking on his screen. It actually was for his "management". If he opened it a woman would ask to be accredited for the evening and for an interview.

His bed was empty. The gag and handcuffs still there. But the bed itself was empty. And just as he was fully inside the room the door closed and the new Laura was revealed to have waited for him behind the door. She raised a gun at him and her look was painfully serious. "I let her go." She hissed. And her eyes burned with anger. "And I know what you did. I know what you did to all of them, Thomas."

Laura looked older. More angry than he had ever seen her. Her surprised look from before was gone. She was not shy anymore. No, she looked like one of these women . . .

And her finger pushed the button. A thundering shot filled the small room as she fired right at his face.

Tag: LordT (see PM)


Subway Station Sternschanze

[image=http://www.bo-alternativ.de/friedensplenum/aktuell/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/20090905do07.jpg]

When they arrived at the Sternschanze the man driving the subway was already nervously declaring they would make a non-.ordinary stop. Ausserplanmässig. No word for that in any language but German. And the police was awaiting the Subway. Hordes of policemen. Hamburg always had problems with demonstrations and mass events. So they had been able to summon relative large forces in quick time. Month later those who still talked about that day, would call that a blessing in disguise.

Laura and all other Passengers were dragged out of the Subway. People seemed to get checked for blood and violent behavior. Laura, frozen and over-floated by the events as she was, was immediately selected and pulled to the area with people who were considered harmless. She was actually told to stay, but probably free to go, as nobody cared a lot about the people who stood around there . . .

On the screens in the Subway stations signs of emergency were blinking. The Subway traffic in Hamburg had come to an end. To keep whatever it was that had caused the massacre in the subway from spreading. Later people would say it was this time, 11:32 that the Change had come to Hamburg. They would obviously be wrong. The Change had been there all along.

Tag: SirakRomar


Dreamnet Internetcafé, Lokstedt

[image=http://www.kneipen-suche.com/images/images_kneipen/9499b.jpg]

The headset was crappy, but she could get the general sound of DJ Dexter´s song. Even though right and left of her kids were playing Modern Warfare 3: AOW like fanatics, shouting orders and screaming at every computer generated arab enemy they killed.

The text of the song was non-existent, but instead the heavy industrial tune with violins in the background was available and the boards were quickly found where I got a pill[/

 

Chapter I - It´s all about the Benjamins . . .

Bremen, Flughafenhotel, ESTI Command

The work needed time and strength and especially the Russian servers were bitchy and annoying. But when he finally settled down and all was done, the files were easy to be found. His Ex-Wife Maria was highly classified. Which was actually unusual for a civilian. And implied she was treated as hostile or she was actually working together with them on some level. Then he looked up Alicia. His own daughter. The sweet little girl had a file with the BND and the french intelligence central, as well as FSB, all united into one at ESTI. It was marked for classification, but obviously nobody had found time to take it out of the system. It had everything about her in it. Pages for pages of files from her school, doctors. Pictures. The whole profile of her. Analysis. Of him. Of Maria. Genetic formulas. And then an in depth genetic profile done by a man called Jerome Janssen from the Whitehead Institute in Boston. The final page was simple. It was an internal order.

1. Mark File Confidential Level GRI

2. Aquire Alicia Finke at all costs

Simple orders were not good ones in their business. It meant everything else was expandable. And as Markus looked up, he saw a colleague look away. Jonah Stürmer had not tried to get him working. He had tried to win time. He had also not got him here, because Markus asked for it. He had brought him here to have him under control. Jonah was playing dirty.

And he wanted his little girl.

"Good work, with that satellite." Came a woman's voice from behind Markus. It was hard to say how long the woman had stood there. "I am Janice. The IT-security expert around here." She smiled warmly and offered her hand.

[image=http://www.contactmusic.com/pics/ma/life_on_mars_060808/lisa_bonet_2011629.jpg]

Tag: Mitth



Chapter III - Safe From Harm

McRea´s House

Handerson looked at Alex and smiled. it was probably meant to be generous, but actually appeared more to be a bit dumb. "Fine, fine. I think you are on a good way, boy." He said. And probably he said that to everyone. And he and his guys left. "Take good care! And have a good sleep, you look tired!" The Sheriff shouted and got back to his car. Leaving Alex behind with his little piece of paper.

When Alex back got to the cellar his brother had not moved a single muscle. He looked like a lot of things. Many not very nice. But not like someone sneaking around and making notes.

Tag: Kahn


St. Thomas Church

The needle entered the mans head and he relaxed immediately. "Calm, calm, Roland. It´s all good. It is all good now." She smiled at him and Sister Juana relaxed, as the man fell asleep in her arms. Elizabeth looked at Father McEneny. 2What the hell happened to him, Father?" She asked. "He was on such a good way. That is the worst fallback I ever saw. Has he . . ." And her eyes fell on the confessional. "Oh no, don´t tell me you can´t talk about it." She said and sighed, looking at the Father.

Tag: BobaMatt


Awaiting posts of NickLitYouAFlame, WideJedi and Republic_Anvil here before moving to the next stage with the Veteran meeting.

---

[color=purple][b]
Chapter V - Einstein was right[/b][/color]

[i]
Palace, outside, inner circle of the fortification[/i]

[b]Bjorndahl[/b] coordinated the attack from his headphone, while his communications officer placed his laptop, having a blueprint of the Palace in palce, showing orange floor, red ones and blue ones. Battles, enemy and their territory. The upper sections were swiftly falling into their own hands, but the lower ones fought back. That was were the foreign security companies were guarding the Inner Sanctum of the King. It was actually not, where Daniel Beckfris needed to go. Kavesh had made sure, that all he needed was in the guest house. Bjorndahl turned to Beckfris and nodded. "Sir, charges are set in three minutes

 

"John Morris"
Charlesbridge, Prague

Morris thought for a second and changed his stance. The point of the knife was pressed gently against Kleym's side and one hand rested on his shoulder. The man was of course bluffing; Morris was almost impressed that he was able to keep a straight face for this long, under this duress.

"Herr Kleym. One day your idiotic bravery will get you killed."

He bit his lip.

"You could be telling the truth. They could have something akin to my life in their hands. But they don't know my life."

Oh, he wanted to end it and finish this foolish meeting once and for all! But at the same time something told him to stay his blade, to wait, to be patient. Perhaps Kleym had a family. When has that stopped you before? That was an excellent question. Yet somehow he ignored it, reminded himself that reticence was needed in this day and age. It wasn't a warzone, after all.

But it could be.

"Herr Kleym. I apologize for wasting your time so. Tonight you are lucky. Tonight, the man of secrets found something best left unknown. And for that he'll pay a price."

Morris slid the knife into Kleym's side, avoiding the major organs and simply cutting muscle - practiced ease, again. He squeezed the man's shoulder.

"Don't struggle. It'll make it worse. Pain is temporary but life...well, so is life." He smiled at his joke. "But this way you get to live until we next meet. Good night, Herr Kleym."

With that Morris removed the knife and wiped it on Kleym's jacket before the man sunk to his knees. He would live, but this night would haunt his dreams forever.

John Morris began walking deeper into Prague, and into the mysteries surrounding his life.

Tag: Fins

 

Chapter V - Einstein was right

Daniel Beckfris
Palace, outside, inner circle of the fortification

A helicopter circled the building to the snipers position like a hawk zoning in onto it's prey. A hard metallic sound erupted from the mini guns which begun to spin. The whole world was moving in slow motion for the sniper, he'd missed his target and his element of surprise.. gone. The helicopter was coming alongside the palace, black, anonymous. Death from the sky with no name, pilot, anonymous, soldier working the minigun.. who knew where he came from.

Foreign soldiers, not even Chinese.. what were they doing here? He swung his rifle and aimed at the helicopter, quickly zoomed in at the pilot and fired. Bam! miss! Bam! another miss! He threw himself between an air vent and some ornamentation in stone, an ancient lion crafted by hand hundred of years ago and prayed to whatever god was out there that he'd make it home to see his children.

The minigun; General Electric XM214 wielded six rotating barrels and a speed between one and ten thousand rounds per minute. That's 166 shot's each second at highest speed. That's a whole lot of death and destruction each second. Loaded with .223 NATO rounds, a modified version of the standard 5.56 round was more than capable of smoldering any damned stone lion into dust. This guy didn't stand a chance.
The helicopter got into a good firing position and the minigun set on two thousand rounds per minute, 33 shots each second, began to fire and it did obliterate the stone lion. Bullet by bullet the statue was grind down until there was nothing left of it, giving a clear shot at the sniper taring his body apart, severing limb from body and just squashing it like a giant fist of led onto the floor.
The statue had been a testament of skilled craftsmanship that you wouldn't find these days, however, all you would find now would be a torn up corpse bleeding beneath a pile of dust all thanks to American inventor's. Who needed stone statues when you could rule the world?
Modern civilization; **** yeah!

Daniel got up on his feet and nodded at Björndahl who simply replied "That's what I'm paid for". Accompanied by some twenty troops they hurried inside the palace where his troops had made their way in, securing the outer parts giving Daniel and his escort a safe passage to the upper floors, with them they carried six large trunks that would be placed at key positions. It was more than enough, but Daniel always liked the extra fireworks.

Downstairs the battle raged from room to room, trained men on both sides delivered deadly blows to each other. Some went on point blank range with rifles raised and bullets flying everywhere. Some ended up in hand to hand combat as they pushed back and forth between the decorated rooms. The priceless interior blew up to pieces as bullet and grenades tore them apart. Art that had been raised to the skies for it's beauty caught fire as incinerator grenades exploded, wall carpets that had been hanging for centuries was destroyed when teargas grenades spat out it's sticky gas and made a chemical contact with the carpets preservation chemicals starting a premature rot process. Nothing that would be noticed today, but a few months from here and they would be nothing but disgusting fungus.
It was a controlled dance of death where each man knew his steps, they battled each other men of arms, men of war.

Daniel and his men hurried towards Kavesh's location, placing some of the charges as they passed those key points, the plan was to met up with Kavesh, place out some charges on the way and while Daniel was getting what he wanted, a part of his team would continue with placing out the rest of the explosives. That was the plan at least.
The plan however was interrupted by enemy troops who apparently had slipped through his own forces and lay in an ambush and their first volley of shots killed three of his own men. Quickly they took co

 

IC: Hikaru Hoshi

Hamburg
September 6th
Martinistrasse, Entering the Eppendorfer Landstrasse

Ok, that was it. Today had started weird and it went more worse all the time. Nothing made sense anymore and the situation required fast acting, so Hikaru decided to just stop thinking for the moment.

When he had started to learn Kenjutsu long ago, his sensei made his rules very clear.
"Kenjutsu will give you power. But while your body grows stronger all alone, your heart must be trained, too. If you want me to be your teacher, you have to promise to never abuse your skills for your own benefits. Modesty and politeness are the first steps on Do - The Way. The next steps are courage and righteousness. Only by that way you will gain honor, happiness and inner peace. You must swear to follow the Do, or you shall not be trained. Have I made myself clear?"
"Hai, sensei. But please allow me to ask one question, I don't quite understand yet."
"Yes, little one?"
"What is the meaning of courage and righteousness? How do I follow that way?"
"If you master Kenjutsu, you will be able to defend yourself. Never abuse this to provoke a fight. But also don't hesitate to fight if it's necessary to protect a weaker person's life and estate. Now do you swear?"
"Hai, sensei. I do swear"

That was over ten years ago and all the promises his master made of skill and power came true. Now here it was, the situation he swore to take care of. He had to keep his promise, too.
You wanted training anyway - Here you go!

He didn't even waste a thought on blocking a baseball-bat with an umbrella. He had his bokken with him - An omen that he was truly chosen by destiny to help that wounded woman. He just let go of his umbrella and took the step needed to take him right in front of the woman - between her an the aggressor. While he moved his feet, his hands kept not still. While one hand opened the zip of his sportsbag as far as he needed to move the other hand into it. In the bag he let loose of his cellphone and his hand immediatly found the hilt of his bokken on the bag's bottom. He grabbed it strong and just drew it out so far, his hand was on the outside. One hand held the bag and the other held the wooden sword, and without noticing, Hikaru found his body already in a fighting stance.

"Stoppu!", he shouted in a commanding tone, all available strenght in his voice. "Sofort aufhoren!"

Hikaru thanked all the gods he knew, for japanese were natural born actors. The outside rarely revealed what a person really was about to feel. Every conversation had to be polite.
He concentrated all of his willpower to keep his legs from shiver. He never found himself in a situation like that before. In fact he felt fear.
But he didn't allow himself to get more nervous. He had jumped right into that situation and now it was not only the woman's life to protect, but also his own.
Do not think about what might happen. You've done competition before. You just have to win this one.
No more thinking! Just react!

Finally addrenaline reached his brain and made him able to empty his mind and forget his fear. He didn't think about his chances anymore, he would just do his very best. His body was trained for fighting and his not-yet-fully-revealed weapon gave him more range than the baseball-bat, so he could prevent his opponent coming close enough to make use of it.
If the aggressor would come closer in pursuit, Hikaru would use a draw-technique. Those advanced and powerful technique was about drawing his sword and striking in a simultaneous move, he would aim at the foes stomach or solar plexus. Maybe this would be enough to make the agressor flee. Hikaru would not hold back with his power: Kenjutsu was about to end a combat as fast as possible.

This was about his honor. And he would never forgive himself if he would just run away.
Hikarus eyes met the eyes of his opponent, trying to detect any moves before they happened. His body stood in forced relaxation, muscles ready to react as fast as a lightning when stimulated

 

ooc: First off TGI can´t post right now, as his computer at work blocked his access to this site. Therefore here is his post he send by other means to me today . . .

John Henley
Corben´s Inn

John swiftly crawled back from the collapsing body, when the young man crushed into him. A second shot hit the attackers leg and sealed the fate of him. The shotgun was sliding over the floor towards John and he felt his body hurt. He was not twenty anymore. Maybe he was in good shape for his age. But not in any shape for lethal barfights in a Diner nowhere of nothing.

"Everybody . . ." He cut his sentence. Obviously not everybody was alright. A man was on the floor bleeding and the waitress was hurrying towards him to help. Grabbing the shotgun, John stood up. "We need to help him. Anybody in here a doctor?" He yelled.

Tag: TheSithGirly, Mec, swbeauty, DarthXan, Fin

---

And my two characters.

[b]Jackson Clay[/b]
[i]Corben´s Inn[/i]

He slowly lowered his pistol. Looking down on the man, he had just shot twice. "It´s alright, you can come up." Jackson sighed to the young girl. "Thanks for the prayer." He added then and gave [b]Vashtii[/b] a dry smile. Stepping towards the waitress, [b]Sharon[/b], who was trying to save [b]Alex Rouse [/b] father. "Anybody here a doctor?" The country singer asked. Jackson looked up and shook his head. "He needs more than a doctor. We need to get him to the hosptial." Jackson remarked calmly. He knew a man shot at close distance from a Mossberg 12 gauge had little chance to make it anywhere in time. Sighing he looked around. His eyes running from one inhabitant to the other. This attack could have been a coincidence, yes. Probably. But he did not believe and luck. Not even in bad luck.

His pistol returned to his belt, but his hand stayed near it as he looked around. [b]Henley [/b] had the rifle now. He made a mental notice and observed the scene with professional curiosity in his eyes.

[b]Tag: Others[/b]


[b]Angela Janssen[/b]
[i]Boston Medical Center[/i]

No Ebola. Nowhere in sight. Actually for the end of the world, it was a surprising Ebola-free time. Hissing out in frustration Angela searched her handbag for cigarettes. She had quit a week ago, but had known somewhere inside there had to be half a package Camel. Somewhere. Inside. There.

She found it and took one. Smoking in the building, her bureau or anywhere was actually forbidden, but it was late at night and she had the feeling she would do several things she could loose her job for, soon.

Inbhaling the first breath made her regret though and she quickly killed the cigarette.

[i]Why? [/i] Because this was stinking. Not the cigarette. Anderson and her patients. Anderson was hiding something and her methods were more [i]NSDAP[/i] than Vice-Dean of the BMC. What did the woman do with her patients? The answer was in the morgue. Of all places the morgue. That the patients were brought there alone was not a good sign.

Taking the card of one of her patients who had been deceased recently, she made a cross at [i]suspicious of toxic [/i] and made her way to the elevator. It would suffice as an explanation. Simply go down there and tell them she wanted to check. And see where the other patients had been brought.

As she stepped into the elevator, she smiled at her colleague politely. And pressed the button to the morgue.

[b]Tag: Anvil[/b]

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Bremen, Flughafenhotel, ESTI Command

To say the job was easy but merely took time would have been a lie, and quite to the point he was more than happy to say "Dasvidaniya!" to the whole thing whenever he had to take a break just to have some sort of cathartic release. How troublesome could a system really be? Once past the system and to the files it was clear sailing at least, which expedited the whole thing.

It gave him enough time to search for two very important files. And find answers to questions, and questions from answers that he never knew to ask.

First his Ex-wife was listed under a high classification that would probably have been above his pay grade before coming here, as well as well above his ESTI certifications. Very odd, normally something that high meant an well placed asset of the ESTI or...or an individual seen as being against them. Last he had checked his wife was a professor of genetics, nothing popular to be sure, but Maria certainly couldn't be anyone responsible for creating dangerous things that contribute to the Change; could she?

Next was Alicia, his daughter, the angle that guided his actions and flitted across his thoughts more often than any single individual on earth probably had right to. What surprised him first was, well his little girl had her own file, second was that she had one on BND, FSB, and ESTI servers, and third was that it had too many bytes to be an simple stipend folder. He had seen a weapons dealer's file just last year and it didn't have that many bytes.

Taking a deep breath he pulled out a small keyring from inside the side pocket of his backpack/laptop carrier, upon which sat seven mini usb thumb drives. Each one a different color and each marked with an un-identifying symbol. Clicking with his free hand the file began opening, revealing all the contents inside in a preset overlapping window display. Removing the white one he paused for a second as he began to pry and open it, holding it in that same left hand that held the ring as his right tapped two keys flipping from window to window. Doctor, school, ENT that she had seen at two, public and identification photos, private photos they had sent online, analysis of him, analysis of Maria, genetic formulas, genetic profiles....

Nightmares rarely if ever come true, and this was one he hoped he would have never seen in the light of day. Sure there was a twist, when he had first had it after the divorce it was that their daughter would get so screwed up that one day he would be working to bring her in. Now it seemed he was being kept out of the way, brought in perhaps in reserve, kept on ice, while someone else did just that, but not because she was bad, after all what four year old is that bad? No, this was something else, and it was something being kept from him.

Something they had meant to keep from him, the file was just pending classification to a level he wouldn't have been able to see. One last tap and the last page shone before him, an internal memo, an inter-office order. It was direct, was bulleted in two points, and most horrifying to anyone in the business was that it was simple. Simple meant one got to do it however one wanted, no questions, no reviews, just results. With Jonas...

Looking up he spotted the man, and that cold blooded slime-o (yes slime-o, have a four year old, it does wonders for vocabulary degradation), couldn't even look him in the eye. Tapping once he closed the file as he snapped back in the white usb with skull and cross bones on it and removed the green one with a small image of a four leaf clover. They wanted his girl.

Then he heard it, barely as he went to put in the thumb drive, barely above the roar of his own thoughts that began to flow as a raging river. That simple interruption of a woman's voice quieted that raging torrent that was a paternal instinct to protect his little girl at any cost, to do something now! But a single voice brought it all to a stop...and a single question...did she know

 

IC: Father Joseph McEneny

The priest flinched as the needly entered the man's temple. He'd expect an arm, a leg, the man's neck at worst, but directly into his head? That seemed barbaric. The doctor removed the needle, and more blood trickled from the hole.

"Calm, calm, Roland. It´s all good. It is all good now." The struggling stopped. Father McEneny noticed he'd been holding his breath. With a great exhalation, he relaxed, letting go of the large man. He felt cold and weak, all the adrenaline leaving him. His hammering heart beat like a tom-tom in his ears and gave him a headache.

"What the hell happened to him, Father?" the doctor asked. "He was on such a good way. That is the worst fallback I ever saw. Has he . . ." She saw behind him, saw the confessional. "Oh no, don´t tell me you can´t talk about it."

Shakily, Father McEneny got to his feet. It was true. He couldn't say anything, and it tore him to pieces. But witnesses could speak, and not all the blood on Roland was his own. "Look. Call the hospital. The other veterans will be arriving soon. Call the hospital. And the police."

TAG: GM

 

OOC: It is the return of the almighty Anvil!... *Crickets* ...Too much? Ahem. Hello everyone. I would like to apologize to you because I have been having computer problems and I didn't really relay that to anyone. My bad. Anyway I have a new motherboard and I am ready to get writing.

---

[b]
Alley way outside Apartment Building ? Chinatown
June 6th, 2012
02:00-03:00[/b]

The man that was 'Garrett Solon' watched the apartment explode. ?WhoooHooo! Now that's a fire!? One of the other two men with 'Garrett' nudged him and pointed to a dumpster not far from the roaring inferno.

'Garrett' looked at Kincade in surprise. ?Damn! Like a New York cockroach!

'Garrett' pulled the Glock 18c from his waistband, his companions pulled their weapons as well (cheap Saturday-night specials), and opened fire on the dumpster.

It wasn't the greatest angle to attack from as most of the dumpster was in the way. 'Garrett's Glock clicked empty...

[b]Tag: BartSimpson-SithLord[/b]

[hr]

[b]Boston Medical Center, Boston ? Children's Room
June 6th
02:00-03:00
[/b]
?Sorry if this hurts. It will only hurt a little,? The little boy hardly flinched under Camden's healing touch.
The boy silently endured all of Camden's tests and exams.

?What is your name??

A knock on the exam room door drew Camden's attention. Gina popped her head in ?Dr. Fossett? Could I see you for a moment?? She didn't wait for Camden's reply and her head disappeared from the doorway.
Camden saw that the boy was heading over to the kids table. It had legos, blocks and all sort of stuff for kids to play with. It being a hospital, a well used hospital, there were missing pieces to everything. It was still fun though.

Gina was waiting in the hall for Camden. ?We just got word.? She looked at the door to the exam room and decided that they were out of earshot. ?They just lost the boy's mother on the operating table.? Gina looked like a vice was gripping her heart. She was one of those few nurses with real intense empathy towards her patients. ?Also there is a Child Services agent in the waiting room. She wants to speak to you about the boy.?

Back in the room, Camden saw the boy was playing with the alphabet blocks. The boy had spelled something with them, and when he saw Camden again a smile flickered across his face.

The blocks were stacked ?IAN ALBEC?


[b]Tag: Spycoder[/b]
[hr]
[b]Bosten Family Pharmacy near Chinatown ? Boston
June 6th
02:00-03:00
[/b]
?Alright Detective, that's all for now.? The IA officer closed his notebook and clapped a hand on Rosheen's shoulder. ?As far as I can see, it was a clean shoot. Good work Detective. Here is your shield and weapon back.?
The officer leaves Rosheen alone. The area was full of the ambiance of police work. The flashing lights of emergency units, the noise of officers working the scene, reporters trying to get any information they could from the silent rope Officers.
It was all very surreal.
Captain Doug MacFearson approached Rosheen from the small group of Brass that had assembled off to the side of the scene.
?Sharma. Good work in there. Why don't you head back to the station, get started on the paper work."

[b]TAG: Blubeast[/b]

[hr]
[b]Angela Janssen
Boston Medical Center
June 6th
02:00-03:00[/b]

The elevator doors opened and the smell of antiseptic and death filled the small lift. The morgue was in the basement of the hospital. It was one of the oldest parts of the hospital and it showed. The paint was spotted and stained and the ceiling tiles were missing, exposing pipes and air ducts.

The tiled floor was cracked and stained with age and use. The elevator opened to a hallway that ended in a set of double doors. Beyond those doors would be the morgue proper where the bodies would be examined and stored.

Next to the doors was a small desk with a guard seated at it. He was reading a book, something by Aaron Allston, but he looked up as the elevator opened.

?Hello Dr. Janssen. What can I do for you today??

[b]Tag: TheSithGirly[/b]
[hr]
[color=red]Chapter III[/color]
[b]IC: Riya McKenzie [/b]
[i]Miracle of

 

Godot
Central Commons - Boston Commons
June 6th, 2012
02:00 ? 03:00

Godot chuckled slightly as his bullets not only found the mark, but did so spectacularly, as the man called John ended up slamming into a wall headfirst, and then rolling onto his back.

Which left a question - was he unconscious or merely faking it? Godot wasn't about to rule out either possibility.

"Accelerated blood loss. I must have hit an artery," he said aloud, strolling over to the man's prone figure, staring down from behind the mask that was his face. He replaced one of the guns into the holster beneath his trench coat, and aimed the other directly at the man's head.

"You are called... John, yes?" he asked, wondering if he would get a response. "For your sake, I would hope you are currently conscious. I hold your life in my gloved hands, John, and quite frankly I don't care if you live or die. But you spoke of Caleb. Tell me of Caleb, and you will live."

TAG: Anvil

OOC: Sorry about that, missed the last update somehow.

 

ooc: Just for those who wonder, the parts appearing to be bad cases of godmodding all (hopefully) are based on a PM Fin shot me so I could write this scene to full effect.

Thomas Schröder
Tarpenbekstr. 55


The Melitta Home Products AquaVario Independent Hotplate was such a perfect little thing.

[image=http://www.elektroradar.de/WebRoot/Store/Shops/ElektroRadar/Products/Images/08/3102808/649510_Look_wasserkocher_schwarz_logo.jpg]

Thomas had bought his to make tea in his room without having to leave for the kitchen. He did not remember to have used it, but it looked nice and stylish on his desk. As he actually did not work on his desk, filling it with fancy stuff to impress people was a very good use for it.

That was his thought as the shot rang out from Laura´s gun. If this was Laura, at all. Laura enough, he decided. And as the decision made it´s way into his consciousness to full extent, he realized that his consciousness still existed. His head was not yet shattered by a piece of lead of 9mm extent. It was perfectly in place. Also Laura had not missed him. Impossible at this range. Their had simply been not shot. Only a loud bang.

"You little . . ." He never ended his sentence, because his hand had grabbed the iron hole-puncher from his desk and smashed it into Laura´s pretty face. Not so pretty after it, as blood sprayed over it from hte headwound that send her back. He was shocked how good it felt. How exciting, how inspiring that was. Stimulative. Like a drug. A perfect, perfect drug. Thomas gasped in ecstasy. He felt dizzy and unending fascinated.
A second blow send her to the ground. "God! You have no idea. No idea." He said and breathed heavy. As she tried to get up, he kicked into her rips with such power, they broke like straws. A moment of silence. An endless moment of silence filled the room. The world probably. And she breathed out in pain. Gasping for air. He complimented that sound with a short burst of laughter and took the remote control from his bed. Pushing two buttons his Bang&Olufsen hissed alive and the familiar sound of a loading CD filled the room. Laura screamed out in pain, but Thomas ignored her for now. Instead he searched for Track Three and pushed the song even louder. It seemed so fitting. Dancing a few steps, he allowed himself to bath in the joy of expectation. Like all drugs, Laura needed to be taken in small doses. Or he would give in to addiction. And of this drugs, there was a limited supply.

Thomas could not resist to begin to sing. Half laughing, the words just came out of him. While his feet circled the girl he loved with easy, dancing steps.

I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Stepping over her, he spoiled of her desperate attempt to crawl away. His free hand closed the door and his foot set down on her neck, forcing her face against the wooden floor. "When we did it . . . , I felt ashamed. I had such a hard time . . . all these thoughts, you know? These seductive whispers. I hoped you would do anything . . . give me any reason to . . ." He felt himself drooling and wiped his mouth clean with the palm of his hand. Then he knelt down and took the pistol from the ground. Laura was gasping for air. Her broken rips had probably pierced her lungs and blood was filling them, now. Thomas patiently watched her suffer. Memorizing any moment of it. A grin spreading on his face.

"So sweet. Sweet, sweet Laura." He sighed and looked down on her. Allowing the magazine of her gun to slip out of it. It dropped next to her face. Tears came from her eyes now. Leaving trails in the blood covering her cheeks.
"You know I never actually used this?" Thoams asked curiosly down towards her and stepped on her leg so s

 

IC: Vashti Schick
Corben's Inn

Jackson's grip on Vashti's neck loosened and she assumed that the worst of it was over.

"Thanks for the prayer."

The man smiled at her as she stood. She wanted to smile back but it was as if she couldn't. There was blood pooling under Gordon and the man he shot. Sharon was attempting to doctor the man's wounds and Martha was going to call an ambulance. Gil was hurt and brushing it off as nothing. The others seemed uninjured but a bit frazzled.

Vashti didn't know what to do. She hadn't been able to help before and she didn't think she could help now. Blood had always affected her badly but she wasn't going to let it stop her. This man needed serious help and she doubted they could give it to him but she knew she must at least try.

Kneeling next to the older man, she looked to his son and mouthed "I'm sorry" before looking to Sharon.

"Just tell me what I can do to help." She pleaded with the woman as she said yet another mental prayer.

Tag: Corben's Inn

 

Episode One, Chapter Two
In Character: Dr. Camden Fossett
Boston Medical Center, Boston USA

Camden stared at the blocks, shaken. The boy was grinning, and Camden ran forward, leaning near the block?s and the boy. ?Is your name Ian Albec? Is that why you are grinning!?? Camden gave out a laugh, not believing what had just happened. He had broke the a hard shell. He laughed, but then the horror of the last hour. How was he to reveal to this innocent child that his mother and father were both dead? ?Um, Ian. I don?t know if you can understand me, but I want to tell you something,? then he stopped. The boy was playing with blocks, so Camden just decided to leave him be.

?Nurse, please come watch the child,? he said, and after she walked in, he moved on outside. He wondered where the Child Services person was. He would wait.

TAG: Republic_Anvil

 

IC: Sharon Cosner
Corben's Inn, USA

"We need to help him. Anybody in here a doctor?"

"He needs more than a doctor. We need to get him to the hosptial."

Sharon shook her head. Of course they were right; she knew that, but he wouldn't survive until an ambulance got here without some help. His face was already going a disturbing shade of grey.

The shooter probably was, too, but Sharon couldn't care less about him.

"Just tell me what I can do to help." Vashti was kneeling next to her. Sharon glanced up; she was pale but composed. Good enough.

"Take a bandage from the kit," Sharon instructed with a nod in its direction - both her hands were occupied staunching the flow of blood. "Tear open the wrapper - there's a little nock on the corner there - and press it onto his chest, right there. Put pressure on it, like I'm doing."

TAG: swbeauty, others at Corben's Inn

 

Fins Approved!


Name: Abigail Schultz (Abby)
Age: 22
Nationality: German-American
Faith: 'Luke-warm' Missouri-Synod Lutheran (see bio)
Appearance:
[image=http://i396.photobucket.com/albums/pp48/CPL_Macja/5566aa3063c977724e91427854ea90e7.jpg]
Special Skills/Areas of Expertise: Gymnastics / EMT
Equipment: Nothing! What you see is what you get. (and a small backpack with a two changes of clothes and simple toiletries. Looks like hers don?t just happen by accident in the morning.)
Bio: Abby is your stereotypical young American girl who just graduated from college using the Montgomery GIBill. After high school she spent one year training as an army medic and another in Iraq in the supposed safe zone. Unfortunately someone forgot to tell the insurgents they could not fight there. She saw more action then some of the combat medics on the "frontlines". After satisfying her active duty requirements she returned home to find her world turned upside-down.

Her parents, who had been her rock her entire life, were killed by a drunk driver. Her fiancé could not handle the fact that his future wife had gone off to war and he could not because of a minor medical issue. He had been the quarterback of their high school football team, but sustained a knee injury in the last game of the year. He left her for the former head cheerleader. Then her doctor told her that she could never bear children.

All of this turmoil nearly pushed her over the edge, but instead of turning to things that might harm her she immersed herself in her studies. She spent every waking hour either in class, in the gym, in the library, or in the local diner as a server. She had just finished her Emergency Medical Technician certification training when the world changed. Now she is traveling while looking for an answer from God.

Her journey has taken her from the Great Lakes to the Pacific Ocean, from Las Vegas to New Orleans, now she is travelling up the Atlantic coastline. Her current status as a reserve member of the Army has allowed her to stay on base lodging and socializing at the local VFW halls. Lately she has linked up with a group of young Veterans, all medics or corpsmen, and they are making way for Boston Massachusetts. They are hoping to find jobs there; Abby is hoping to find a flight out of the country. Until then she spends all of her time with one person in particular, Angelica.

Angelica is the closest thing Abby has had to a real relationship since her future husband left her. This is adding even more to Abby?s crisis of faith since according to her upbringing this type of a relationship is forbidden. Nothing has physically happened between them, aside from friendly kissing, but there is something there that she cannot explain. Angelica is almost literally Abby?s guardian angel. She has kept Abby from the brink.

Abby's parents were both Lutheran schools teachers. She lived her whole life in the fish bowl. As matter of fact she once considered following in her parent's footsteps to become a teacher. She changed her career decision when she saw how much it cost to go to a private Lutheran institution. It was money that her parents could not spare. So she joined the military and her eyes were opened to the cruelties of reality.

Before the Army she had spent her whole life in the Lutheran school system, safe and secure from the evils of the outside world. But slowly she went from eating, sleeping, and breathing the church, to becoming a soldier trained to patch-up other soldiers. She had been an every church service member when she was younger, but now she barely makes it for Christmas and Easter. Don't get her wrong... she believes in God and Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior... she just doesn't visit his house any longer.

So like I said, she's your stereotypical young American women...

... with a twist.

 

ooc: A short one posted by myself. Thanks SithGirly and Fin for posting for me. I hope soon soon I can do without you again.

John Henley
Corben´s Inn

The old man with the gun was right. If the father did not get a real doctor soon, the son would need to bury him. And sons of that age should not bury fathers so young. John lay his hand on Alex shoulder and gave him the encouraging smile America had loved from him for a decade. "We´ll gonna save your father. I promise." Then he stood up. "Okay, my car got enough fuel to get to Ely and back. We need to go now, or he will never make it there! Mr. Corben? You should come, too. Once we reach the hospital we will send someone for him." he nodded to the young man. His car had only limited space and he knew that he needed a guy. The attackers life was now in the hands of god. If the Lord wanted to save him, he had to have mercy on him. John Henley could not afford to.

Getting out his keys he looked to the two waitresses on the floor and gave them a sad smile. "And we might need one of you Angels. To take care of him and keep him alive, while we are on our way." He sighed and smiled. Then clapped the boys shoulder. He would obviously come, too.

Tag: All in there . . .

 

GM Note: Real Life keeps me rather busy right now, but I will update the various storylines over the next few days. From next week on I return to my Tuesday & friday/Saturday schedule. Players who have not responded for more than two updates will be dragged along or pushed out of the way from tomorrow on. Players who have not responded at all since the intro will be removed with my next update to make room for players who actually wait to enter. sorry, but everything else feels unfair.

And as we speak of it, welcome CPL.

-Fin-

 

OOC: Post will be forthcoming within the next 48 hours.