Thriller The Sins of the Fathers

Congrats Fin to post 100!

First Part combined with Janice

Charles Weber
Living Room

He walked over to Janice and gave her the coffee. As she took the cup and looked after Thomas he sighed. ?Actually you do know a man named Stürmer? I saw his body not to far away from hear, near Tierpark Station. Just wanted to mention it.? Carl did not smile about this manipulation and how easy and swift it was. He found not satisfaction in such things. They were primitive and easy. But it was kind of amusing to see her receptors, body and mind react to the news of Stürmer.

Janice looked at Markus. ?Markus, if that is true I need to check it out, okay? He still got that phone . . . it is important!? Janice sighed, no, that secret she had to keep from Markus even. She was aware she was manipulated out of the room, but for a direct line to the president of the U.S., the parliament of Europa and all other Governments that still existed, she had to dare to do anything. She didn´t buy Charles Weber could answer any of those questions anyway. He didn´t know what the Change was, he had looked, glimpsed at the truth at best. The arrogant Billionaire obviously had lost his mind. Whatever Carl had to say, could not be more important than that the world began to look for the Bohmann-syndrome related to the Change. ?Wait here, I´ll take Thomas and be right back!?

Charles . . . Carl looked after her. Then he turned to Markus. ?Now to your questions.? Charles smiled and sat opposite of Markus once again. He took a deep sip from his coffee and looked straight at the only remaining man in the room.

?Why does the populace run amok? Actually, I do not know. But I guess someone else anger over what happened here projects itself into them. I haven´t looked into it, really. It wasn´t mass psychosis, for sure. They all seem to lose their mind. A result of heightened levels of certain chemicals in their blood I assume. It actually isn´t hard to make men mindless monsters, if you have a good understanding of the human body. And some unique ways to manipulate it.? Well, that such things were of such importance to Markus was interesting. He had no idea how big the Change was, had he?

?How do I know so much about you?? Carl sighed again, making his cup empty and standing up to get a new one. ?I read you, obviously. Your thoughts, your position in the cacophony of events unfolding. I also checked your files a while back, because of concern for your daughter, who I liked a lot. And I am really good at reading people. A lot of people say that, I know. But hell, I did it for a long time.? He sat down again. ?Lately I developed a special interest in you. Because of what you are now. And especially because who made you like this.? He smiled a smile without warmness or humor.

?Concerning those . . . how did you call it? Chromosomal life forms? Who aren´t human?? Carl laughed out now and that one was an amused laughter. ?Oh I share all you wanna know about them. Because they do not exist. Humanity in short: Someone is different, let´s get the torches! The Change brought all kinds of life forms never seen before, my friend. The Change brought many things. But a human is not defined by chromosomes. They are not what makes him a human. It´s his reality that makes him human. And everybody looking, feeling and behaving like a human is human by definition. Because chromosomes . . . can be changed. Newly coded. Redacted. Reduced. Perfected. Turned around. Tuned. You can even get rid of them, if you need to. They are nothing but an expression of a plan that is in the center of creation. It isn´t meant for identification. Genes, Markus, genes are the railway to the future your species is sitting in. It´s not the ticket.? He leaned back. ?But I said I´ll tell you the truth and so I´ll do. There is human appearing life form based on chromosomes that aren´t actually human in this world. Also I prefer to be referred to as a higher life form or simply as Carl.? He couldn´t help but smile at that one, as he fin

 

Margaret Elizabeth Hadley
St. Mary's Hospital


"I don't know. Mary, I do not know. But I think they were after the dead priest. We are only witnesses. And these kinda guys don´t leave witnesses."

He held her hand and together the two of them moved forward. Weaving past things. Mary continued to glance over her shoulder. Never had she been in such in danger. . .except for that time long ago. . .but it had been so many years ago. And not even it seemed to compare the terror she felt in these few moments.

She had lost her parents. Friends. Fellow nuns. But she would not die. Not today. She still had a life to live, and she would not let this kill her.

?Thank you.? She gasped as she charged head long towards the exit.

Thank you, Lord, for sparing me. Please let us get out of here alive. Please.


TAG: MoK, Fin

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Living Room

He spoke of his old boss, ex-boss in more ways than one he wagered prior even to the mention of him like a sack of rubbish left out by the street side. Janice of course could not let sleeping dogs lie, and was making her excuses to go after the body and taking Thomas with her. ?Keep your eyes open.? Was all he could say to her as she left.

Looking over as the man sat down he realized in that visceral manner that which any social creature might, he was alone with this man now. Death didn?t hold a candle to life, not anymore beyond that animalistic drive to keep it, and so instead of nervous he found himself, prickling nearly with the possibilities and why?s they needed to be alone before this man would give up his answers.

Must be the realms of secrets, although that did not bode well, he still sat drinking his coffee as Karl joined him. Then it happened, defenses hit the ground and secrets were born into this strange world by words heard by none other than them two sitting there, in a residence of a city that had gone from madness to missing. So he sat, not daring to sip lest he miss a beat with a slurp deafening his ears, as two eyes locked upon that birthing.

The first was an admission of lack of knowledge as to why, but an admittance that with knowledge and ability there were many ways. Ways he doubted truly applied to what he had muddled through.

Restating a question was always a good sign, getting for more coffee merely made Markus quickly down more of his own bitter brew before the man continued. It was incredulous, and before this year something that would of sparked a betazed joke, actually still did, but now it was a comparison instead of a mockery. The mention of his file, and his daughter were merely dressing poured over that first fact, and for a moment like some sifter searching for gold he had to hold fast to keep it from drowning in his mind. The mention of himself and that he was different crashed upon like warm water, oddly enough. Funny, one would think that knowing you were ?different? would be an rude awakening, instead it was a soothing diversion.

Philosophy, a past time that is hard to resist was dredged up upon the shore of his question of the chromosomal differentiation of Laura, the fact she had more then a human does was the main point. Still, upon that some light must gleam as Karl laid out a gem. Not that the genes do not make the human, that was something he could swallow easily after wrestling with the idea of alien life and the sanctity of intelligence with his theologian brother, no what shown out was that Karl was himself a genetic deviation proudly so. The reference to length made him flash upon the theory of genetic memory, but that was neither here nor there likely as the present mattered in this respect more than the portents of the creating past in some respects at least.

Like the man said, all in order for better understanding.

Then came the Data reproduction impersonation of himself, he would of easily paid a pound for more, but that was once more neither here nor there. Did make him smile somewhat though, it was nice to know another man could do that to him.

Rewrite of the whole of existence, perhaps the guy doing it could make a better metabolism, though he doubted it. Still a rewrite of existence, if he kept with his own thoughts of a portion of the Word left behind for man to stumble onto, in a fashion most unlike the grail, then this would be man wiping himself into a different existence by a few perpetrators.

The fact he was being marked as the key made him wonder in a way. Was that man really that important? Although the expression of lack of knowledge, and theory on the where lent to his own budding theory that he was starting to imagine was possible.

Questions for questions, only this time he had been allowed to ask before he was himself questioned. Perhaps this held life instead of death in the machinations of Fates weave, if one gave credence to such a thing as the tap

 

Niccolo Martelli
Marcello's Apartment

"...gone?"

He felt his knees shake and he stumbled briefly before regaining his balance.

"...how? How can this be?"

It wasn't possible, as far as Niccolo was concerned, but at the same time...Marcello had been old and his health was never the greatest. He is with God now, though. Rest in peace, my old friend...

He swallowed hard. Esrada would want to hear of this if he didn't know already. Word would travel quickly through the Vatican.

There is still work to be done.

Tag: Fins

 

Rudyard Vane-Tempest
Tokyo streets

God was watching, and He was most displeased.

Or so it seemed to Rudyard, as he fled from fire and smoke, leaping through the hole in the embassy wall. He hit the ground hard, remembering too late to drop into a forward roll, and he twisted his ankle on impact. His obscenities were drowned out by the sound of gunfire above him. He limped away through the grass.

The next period of time passed by in a wet blur of rain and sweat. Rudyard could not tell how long it had been- he had left his watch on his desk- and he did not particularly care. As he limped his way to Shibuya station he thought only of Clifton Moore's face, eyes closed and with a bullet hole between them. As he pressed through the mass of commuters, clutching his briefcase and frantically stuffing his gun into his jacket, he found himself glancing constantly over his shoulder, thinking now of the law enforcement agencies who were struggling to deal with the chaos, as if they didn't have enough to deal with. And as he finally arrived at Makashi, six words echoed eerily through his mind.

I think it can smell people

He needed to perform his rituals. Quite apart from their practical purpose, they were comforting routines that made him feel at ease. Made him feel safe. And right now, he needed to feel safe. The world was collapsing and he didn't have anyone to trust but a mysterious, faceless hacker.

And she was talking again. He pressed his phone hard into his ear as the crowd pushed around him.

?So, Mr. Vane-Tempest. Ghost has saved your life and if you don´t play this nice and cooperating Ghost won´t do it again. I know things, you know things. I´d say we both don´t know enough by a long shot. Maybe we can help each other, hm??

"I owe you a debt," conceded Rudyard, breathing heavily. "But I will not proceed until you answer two questions for me. Who do you work for, and who- what- did I just escape from?"

Tag: LordT

 

Chapter I: An American Nightmare

Washington D.C.; White House Area

More shots, this time they were coming from the other side of the perimeter. Obviously the situation was getting out of control. The Sarge looked at the others and nodded, then he pushed his helmet on his head and made his way to the Osprey. They began to jump in one by one. Jenkins was the last to and he gave the crowd a look. The soldiers were now aiming and the order to use deadly force if necessary was shouted through megaphones.

?Dammit, what a mess.? The Sarge hissed. Fuso could not hold a little laugh. ?Well, was in Arabia all the time like this. Just a bit different when it´s our people on the other side of the fence, right?? He sighed and looked at the Sarge. Jenkins on the other side looked as if he wanted to kill Fuso for the comment. The sarge kept the discussion short.

?Our mission is to extract a potential hostage and eliminate a threat to national security. To Washinton D.C.´s in particular, I would say. We´re talking about a gang here who has barricaded in some sort of safe-house on the 407th. Los Mags. Heavy weapons, about 30 of them are assumed to be in there. We are to enter the area, find access and use any force necessary to secure the hostage. A girl with some strange deformation. I was told she is impossible to miss. We land one block away and then slowly make our way towards the target. We got the surprise element and they got the numbers. So be careful. We take out most of them immediately or this will be one hell of a long day. 22nd recon gives us reinforcement, but they´ll need about an hour to arrive.?

He looked around. ?Everybody understood??

The answers were cut short as something, someone, somehow blew up a humvee beneath. They could see the shots from beneath, the panic, the fleeing people. It felt like a first shot in a war.

Tag: CPL

---

[i]Warehouse; East End[/i]

They screamed indeed. Terrible screams, which were suffocated as rusty needles and to thick fibers closed their mouth forever. Lydia watched the scene with a grin, while the man spared was now lying to the feet of the Baron and begged and thanked his new . . . God. The people applauded, yelled in ecstasy. All fear vanished with the cruelties they commited in the name of their God. Those who once were clerks, teachers and bankers now were a mass of followers.
One of the former Gangbangers who provided security now came to Lydia and whispered into her ear. She nodded only and then walked over to her Master. Mambo was a title, she always looked like a lawyer, when she moved. ?Baron, the Gods have send us the location of the girl. The girl without a mouth. The Los Mags seem to have taken her with violence and she is not in their safe house. The army is on their way there. One of your true believers was drafted today and he told us where to find her. But the building is a fortress. Not that a fortress can keep out a God!?

[b]Tag: Ramza[/b]



[i]Crime Scene & Hosptial[/i]

Malone nodded and looked after Sanders. ?I´d say he was too late. You know, he has kind off a cleaners charms. Maybe someone got his man before he could?? Malone shook his head. ?Let´s go. The chauffeur might not make it forever.?

They received reports on their way back home. Indeed they had a dead billionaire. And he had indeed called Mr. Milton Prest. It was also right, that the FBI had been looking for him to question him. It turned out the man was the last man leaving Boston. Which brought up the question if he was incredibly lucky, or knew when the bomb would go of? Anyway, the FBI wanted to send someone, but obviously they had no spare agents, so five minutes later they simply requested reports.

The hospital was crowded. They could not even go near the parking lot, so they parked outside the security perimeter established by army soldiers and entered by foot. Their badges gave them entrance, otherwise people lined up and were inspected by soldiers. ?What are they looking for anyway? Inured terrorists?? Malone wondered as they pa

 

Chapter 3: The Shadow of the Lord



Flat of Fra`Marcello

The elder woman wept and nodded. It was only then the priest saw a much younger woman come out of the kitchen. She was wearing a coat and looked like she wasn´t working in his household. In her hands was a book case and she looked at Nicollo and then back to the elder woman. She nodded and turned back to Nicollo. ?Fra´Nico, that is Comissario Fratelli. She might have a few questions.?

The woman smiled. ?Actually I do.? She said and gave Nicollo a long and hard look. ?You were a friend of the victim??

Tag: Peng



St. Mary´s hospital

Ando dragged Mary down the corridor and finally they managed to get to the parking lot behind the hospital. Only now Mary opened her hand for the first time and saw a little piece of paper. Something was written on it, but it was impossible to read. If it was writing at all. To her it looked like many, many very small symbols.

[image=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6b/Ethiopic_genesis.jpg]

Only a second after they reached Andos car, while he was still looking for the keys the doors on the east side of the hospital burst open and the priest with the gun appeared.

Tag: Spy, Myrial

Chapter 4: Saints

Hamburg, Schnelsen

The other woman came out. She talked to the handsome guy and then checked her gun. She looked back, she looked forth. Whatever she looked for Katii Laihonen became frustrated. She had missed her chance for a good shot when they were together, now she had to take them out one by one. They were to close, she knew that. They were probably here by accident, but they were to close. Pushing the RK 95 close to her body she aimed and waited. Once these two departed she would follow them and kill them. She had to make sure the arrival of her people was not witnessed.

?Far away from the blue helmet missions you volunteered for, hm??

[image=http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3308/3277223562_3d6f96c432_o.jpg]

Katii waited.

Tag: Sirak, LordT

 

Thomas Schröder
Schnelsen


He had agreed to get there with Janice. He liked her exotic looks and he felt he had to get as far away from Charles Weber as possible. There was something in him, that frightened Thomas to the core. He had actually accepted his own insanity when he had realized he wasn´t able to feel anything like fear anymore. There had been the possibility of brilliance, when he had realized this fearless attitude made him a superior predator in the jungle that was The Change. He had killed men who were more dangerous and much better trained than he was himself, simply by the element of surprise. Now he suddenly felt fear return, as if the last days were mockery. A false security, that ?fear? had manufactured to see him even more tremble when Charles Weber brought it back. The feeling he had to kill someone or something was overwhelming.

?I don´t think it is good for me to hang out with you guys much longer.? Thomas resumed suddenly. ?Don´t get me wrong, fighting the future with a hot chick at my side is a cream come true . . . ? He laughed then looked at Janice. ?But you´ve seen it, too. Did you? He feels guilty and he starts looking for someone he could blame. Because he failed to save his daughter. And that I actually did a better job with that than he did seems somehow to make me the perfect choice. If I stay around Markus, he will try to kill me. He might even try to kill you. I think the whole chain of events is driving him crazy. Hell, who isn´t going a little mad right now, hm?? Thomas stopped and checked his gun. ?I think when we are through with it, I´ll make my own way to Kiel. So I wanted to ask you, how we could probably stay in contact. Just in case I really find her there.?

Thomas gave her a smile. A harmless smile. And something inside of him decided that despite this urge, her day hadn´t come.
Janice would still be useful.


Tag: SirakRomar,Fin




Charles ?Carl? Weber
The House

He listened closely to every word the man said. The bitterness in the priests words, the anger. The connection to Laura Blohm. The black priest and then the answers. The one with the change was dodgy, but even now separated by a medium of an incomplete memory ? all human memory was incomplete ? he looked through it. The man did not know. He did not truly know, did he?

That meant, . . . Karl was right. Probably it meant that. Or they had all been wrong. Maybe this man was a hoax, a red herring, a powerful result of the Change but not it´s cause. Charles looked down and realized his fingers were drumming on the table. Nervous? Was he nervous? By the universal spirit, that was so human!

?My last question was an accusation of, whether his delusions of being a budding god and his purge desire of humanity yet drove him to affect Laura willy-nilly. Not those exact words, but his reply if I remember properly was to laugh with even more bitterness if possible, saying: ?

Charles leaned forward. This would probably be interesting.

?It is for me to decide who lives and who dies. For me alone. I have not asked for this responsibility. But now I commit myself to it. And I see little worthy of living, Markus. But she deserves to. Because you humans deserve a chance. All of you. And she, she will be your chance. Power. Markus. Power is an illusion.? Then they three vanished. ?There is only Change.?

Charles had almost given up. So little insight, so polluted by an education build of lies. The bit with power being an illusion was highly interesting, considering the source. Charles felt he was almost there. Everything fit. Everything began to make sense. He began to understand what went wrong, what had happened. He had no idea yet how or where, but that was a matter of time, if he could confirm the who! If he could confirm that . . .

Charles froze where he sat and slowly, very slowly he raised his head.

?He vanished.? Charles could not force down a smile. ?He just vanished.?

A laughter escaped his lips. Folding his arms he looked at Markus. ?No

 

Ghost
Liar of Ghost

The cascade of programs pushed out more info than she could possibly process. Near east, something had happened in the near east and the lawyer demanded updates. She had a program preparing him some with leaving out everything about her two friends. She send two and kept a third one back. ?You are damned right, you owe me. But your questions are pretty easy to answer, so I´ll let that pass. Who do I work for? Well, I think telling you I do not work for any Government or related organization but a private person would be misleading, because I still keep you and the thing that follows you secret, despite the fact I shall exactly watch out for things like that. So I said I am about to make a lawyer from New York very angry with me and you could call me an independent agent now.? Ghost checked her own security. No tracer yet. ?What did you flee from? Oh the man behind it is called Beckfris. Sweden. Terrorist and big time Gangster. What his companion is? No idea. But you haven´t fled, you are potentially still fleeing. The thing can change it´s shape and I was busy saving your butt when it did the last change. I check security cams to find out what he looks like now, but he could be sitting right next to you as far as I can tell. It is unstoppable. A living killing machine. God, I just rewatch the embassy material. The guy even looks bored while doing it.? Ghost checked the next line of security cams, scanning them with her eyes all the same time. ?So despite me having one good with you, I´d say your survival still depends on me. Your embassy is gone. The island your coming from is going to hell, as we speak. It´s you and me Temp. Do they really call you Temp at the office? And why did the MI-5 put that into your file?? yes, she had cracked the MI-5 server a week ago and she wanted to let him know. She had done this for fun for too long not to let him know. Although it might have been a critical mistake in this new game she had entered. ?So, my last explanation for now is why I saved you. You know I am the best there is and as long as the internet is up, which might not be for eternity anymore ? I got a chance to figure this out, you know? To make sense of this Change thing. And you got the big puzzle piece. So what did this American give you that was so damned precious people unleash hell on earth to silence him?? Ghost finally had the feed. The Thing was going under a desk. There with ad taken the security guards exterior. So what did the security look like? She called up his file. She called up all files and looked up which one fit. Then her face recognition program began to work and to save time she already scanned in everybody on the ride Temp took. She had to make sure the thing wasn´t tailing him.

Tag: Winged

 

Margaret Elizabeth Hadley
St. Mary?s Hospital, Parking Lot


Mary allowed herself little relief once they had reached the parking lot. Because she then realized she held something in her hand. Frowning, she tried to look at it, all the while being tugged away from a hospital turned slaughter house.

Once they had reached Ando?s car, Mary rushed and opened the piece of paper. She stared in wonder at the list of symbols that seemed to run on forever. She wondered what all of it had to mean. A secret language, perhaps? What she did know was that the dead priest had handed her this. Before he had died, he had handed her this slip of paper. And this slip of paper was most likely what the man wanted.

Mary stared up at Ando as she fiddled with the door handle.

?They?re looking for this!? She held up the slip of paper so that he could see. ?That?s why they-?

The doors to the east opened wide. Mary shrieked at the sound, and whirled around. The man with the gun stood there. Mary grappled with the door. After yanking it open, she climbed inside the seat, ducking her head as she gestured at Ando.

?Hurry! We can?t let him get this!?


TAG: MoK, Fin

 

Chapter 1 ? An American Nightmare

?Our God is our strong house of refuge, and he is found to us our helper always in times of trouble.? ? Psalm 46:1 (ABIPE)

IC: Joel David Shepherd
Enroute to Objective

Shep looked at his commander and indicated that he understood. They were going in silent against a force three times their size with support 60 mins away. Their objective was a young female with a deformation of an unknown type, but would be easily noticed. The Osprey rocked as a vehicle below them exploded into a fireball.

He this is why he hated hasty joint ops. They were usually thrown together and half-assed. They had little to no real intel and it usually meant someone on his side was going to get killed. As they approached their insertion point Joel said the Lord?s Prayer to focus himself once more.

TAG: Fins

 

ooc: heavy input, combined and approved by Fin. I am rather sure this is the single longest post I ever did in a game. A few more lines and I would have to post it in fanfic, really.



Rufus Jameson
St. Regis


A servant had brought a suitcase and Leonard opened it with a look that was almost disgust. It contained weapons. A lot of weapons. Were these guys planning to go to war? Did Nepal feel like peace? Next to the suitcase were two packs of Davidoff cigarettes. Who smoked French cigarettes? He took them and lighted one of the cigarettes, anyway. Then he turned his full attention to wonderful Lilith. He looked at her for only a moment and the turned to the window, he felt it was easier to follow her words, when not looking at her.

"I'll tell you what I know, and you'll tell me what you know. But we'll have to do it fast, for we have pieces moving against us - against you, in particular - shortly." Lilly made quite some promise there. He took another breath and listened.

"I imagine that you are not aware of the root of my name. My true name, actually. It has been many centuries since I have given that name out, but the King found me, and so keeping it from him made very little difference. Further, my name has lost significance to your kind, with their many, many legends and myths and fictitious tales. Wotan said it would be so, after all." Being the son of a fanatical preacher man probably made you an atheist, but it gave you certain knowledge. So he was actually very aware of her name´s root, also he had not cared for that until now. They already went into this when they had almost kissed in the palace, he believed. But she was somehow obsessed with that a story, so he allowed her to go on without disturbing her tale. "The old tales state that Lilith was the first woman, and that she was before Eve. As the spirit of femininity, she had guile, beauty and was a coy young lady. Adam hated her, for she would not submit, especially when Lilith fled Eden, as a woman who would not be confined, or controlled. And so, she frolicked with the demons, for a time, until God sent angels to bring her back. By that time, she was pregnant with the child of a demon, and so the three angels returned to God. Or so the story goes, and Lilith was replaced with Eve, a ridiculous young woman at the best of times. Lilith, for her part faded into obscurity... though there is rumor that she met with a snake, who had himself been exiled from Eden, years later." Rufus now turned his eyes to her. He had killed a man with a hundred shot, only to see him get up and attack him with what appeared to be some kind of inhuman ability. Who was he right now to doubt the story, if she told him she was immortal?

"Sound like anyone you know?? Rufus smiled. ?Well.?

As she went on with a story he considered to be half a truth that should shake the foundations of his sanity and half a sophisticated lie to make him do her bidding, he walked over to the suitcase and looked at Leonard. The man was actually not showing any emotion. It was as if he was almost bored by the story. Perhaps it was indeed true. ?So you´re name is actually truly yours.? Rufus took a gun and a shoulder belt and began to put it on. ?That doesn´t explain the Change. Or what exactly you two are??

"That Lilith is, for all intents and purposes, me. I am a breed apart from human. So, too, is Leonard. So do not judge a man who has immortality for so long and offers to sacrifice it for you. For us - so that we have a chance to stop the Change. For we believe the Change is the work of some of our kind or something even older than us, which we encountered before, though we are unable to ascertain who, or for what task - though we have our suspicions. That is what we needed from you." Lilith passed her familiar to Leonard. He took it gracefully and lay it down on a couch, then sitting next to it, while Rufus turned his attention first to Lillith then to the suitcase full

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Living Room

The drumming of the fingers, it was comforting, familiar. Any tech could probably say the same within the agency, or agencies these days. You can spout a line of rhetoric a kilometer long and a fathom deep, due to training in arts that require exactness not only if something happened but how?s were often of even greater paramount importance it was not unheard of to be interrupted and asked merely for the final summary results. No one appreciated the short answers labors to bear it into harsh reality.

There was a saying that computers didn?t simplify anything, merely made them more complicated, he had to agree with that as the memory of ?hotwiring? that car under fire filtered once more into his mind. Pushing that aside he turned it over in his head as the simple rout of memory relations of something he himself had run over in his mind on the walk to the flat. Computers created as many in most simple applications for responsibilities as they replaced, and in some cases more jobs. It was a rare instance where they created less solely by themselves, after all one could blur the lines of automated technology and computers though the two are invariably linked in most respects.

Weber never interrupted, merely drummed his fingers, leaned forward at the right cues. As if a man paying upmost attention or struggling to find something they could use buried in the muck that they did not understand or truly care to hear. Then it happened, it was destined to, he ran out of narrative and was stuck once more with the roles returned and awaited revelation.

The man, Karl or Carl, seemed lost in contemplation, and so to was he lost awaiting revelation. Until that man stated, they vanished, it was important or else really nice because he said it twice. Between them now it was uttered thrice in the same amount of minutes. Karl was quick to note it and reneging that he had not known of it two weeks ago, why, the only why that now roused Markus was this one. Why two weeks?

Still the questions were not over as the other had promised, merely reformed into a new shape that yet promised again after their answer. He had asked more than one, he supposed then no matter the length of the answer, this man was due his replies as Markus was a believer was reciprocity applied to simple human interactions.

Why did he have to remind him though, why? It was like a knife twisting in his heart, and if he had the killer here he would pull it out and use and thus end both their lives to redeem the wound in some small way that he felt he had placed on existence.

?He was a man of confliction and unaccustomed or unable to easily wield his power over an area. He was a man of transference, he placed a mirror of himself on humanity and didn?t like what he found. Laura may of called him father by his voice on the phone, but I. . .it wasn?t a proper connotation to when I?ve heard that spoken in hospitals or emergency rooms. It was not a how or hope to her, what it was I may never know. Of this man I find someone thrust upon ability, and unable to handle it well.? That was all he could say to the first and the second. Mentally he had to add that old Knight?s Tale line that he had been weighed, he had been measured, and he had been found wanting.

What else could he say of what he had witnessed, but a vision of one with great power. If the Priest had had any he would of whisked them both away in an instant and not stayed, so the bald man, Sebastian, Father, what have you, he had the power.

The last was simple, even yet with the Change though the pews had filled and dwindled in response he had kept his spot warm. Second pew from the rear, left side, seventh indent in on the cushions, that was his spot every Sunday when he went to a church. Always early, he had that spot, and he didn?t always agree with the preacher, sometimes even let the man know so. ?I do. There was a designer, a programmer of our reality from the east to the west. Known by many names, I believe that he was G

 

Charles ?Carl? Weber
House in Hamburg

Carl leaned back. the problem with humans were they made up stories and filled in all the blanks with hteir very limited understanding. The man had given him his knowledge, now it was time to share what he knew. After all he was sitting in front of a prophet. Wasn´t it that what people called them? Harbingers of divine truth? Prophets?

"Maybe I should tell you who I am."

He said it as if it was such a simple thing. he had never otld any human before in his very long existence what he actually was. They didn´t even have a name for them. No, they had. Filling in the blanks, they had given them thousands of different names.

?Considering your Judeo-Christian background, I think the name most common used for something like me is an angel. A fallen angel, perhaps? A demon? Only words. I am neither good nor evil, quite the contrary, I was the one having the idea giving you the idea of duality, which is really a simplification at best and actually quite modern. I insist it helped you developing civilization, still, although one of my brothers would actually not agree. But I am getting to far ahead, I believe.?

Did he try to avoid the point? A refelx, he guessed. So human.

?I was part of HIM, when matter and light were created. And I was present when he did his masterpiece and invented time, which allowed progress, which ended the monotony of the eternal darkness. I was there when the cells and atoms were created and the universe ordered to serve their system. We were a part of it, it is hard to describe, as you cannot understand how it felt to be conscious before the idea of individuality and separation of life into units was even perceived. Eventually we came to this point, though. ?

Again he felt as if this wasn´t the right way to explain it. So he began in the here and now with another attempt. Words were too limited, perhaps.

?I am not a human. I was once a part of the force of creation itself. I was an aspect of The Demiurge. The Creator. God. Call it whatever you want. The Jews were actually right about that one, he is hard to name. And now I am not anymore. I haven´t been part of him for 25.000 years. Me and two similar entities like me decided a long time ago to surrender to the limits and potential of human existence. We gave ourselves physical bodies to experience the things we could not. Myth usually says we have fallen, but in truth we departed and we did peacefully. It didn´t stay peaceful, but that was probably part of our partial human nature we accepted. Humans and war come together. No other creature can organize the death of others except you. We came here, when humanity was only beginning to develop and since then I always lived with you here, on earth. We have been with you, giving you many gifts. We did great things for you and we made terrible mistakes. But we always left you room for growth. Any attempt to assume direct control of you became a terrible disaster, so we decided at some point, you should be free of guidance. Of any kind. Just as the creator decided you should. And there is no alien life. Sorry to say that. There wasn´t any at least when I could still perceive such things. Humanity is unique in it´s abilities. A conscience. Will. Decisions. A growing understanding of the universe. Many of your conceptions are flawed, but it is only a matter of time until these flaws would have vanished. Sooner or later, I realized that a long time ago, you would be like us, if not even more than us. You would be able to see creation as the plan it is and use the space it leaves for development into whatever you like. That was the Creator´s plan, I believed. I might have been wrong about that one, though. I most likely was. Hard to give up the conceptions you carry around for 25 millenia.?

?We were the most powerful creatures on this planet and also my two colleagues might oppose it, I was the most powerful of us three. Until recently a power even greater than mine appeared. And there is only one power greater than mine. But what he did t

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Hamburg, Living Room

It sounded like a good place to start, who are you? It?s a fundamental aspect of interaction, simple and well rehearsed. Almost comforting, amazing what can be comforting when the world seems to be not only circling the drain but beginning to slip into it. The answer, was less comforting.

Angel, demon, divine fallen. In genesis there was mention of fallen one?s mating with the daughters and sons of man, part of the lead up to the flood as man went the wrong direction. He had thought Laura was possibly one of these at first, thought so until Father, and now he simply had to shrug at that and admit he did not know.

The claim then, well it took an unforeseen turn onto a road that his mind accepted as if the transportation services hadn?t gotten to it in a century. In other words, a very rough road to wrap his brain around it, but who was he in the end to describe what it was like to be with He? So he let sleeping dogs lie and merely tried to picture the un-picture-able. A nice diversionary task, as he closed his eyes and listened to the words proceed from Karl?s mouth.

25,000 years, twenty-five thousand. . .years. The number echoed in his head like a spam bot that is all too successful. It rattled past preconceptions given by theologians since childhood and given the source they rattled those sectors of memorized knowledge to their base components. From the scrap he could rebuild reasoning?s with them, but with knowledge from one he had taken to trust why not wait for the aftershocks to cease?

The eventual hands off approach seemed, ridiculous in a way. All that would be needed was an endless line of proxies, human puppets in governments around the world and you had a controlling interest. A remote access to affect the systems of the world, that, or else an infinite amount of time to place yourself as someone that others could not ignore. Power is an illusion once more echoed and he had to agree, on least on this scale of governments around the world, political power was an illusion of grand magnitude.

The perceived loss of extra-terrestrial life stung, worse then he would of imagines coming from this man, but then he left it open to the possibilities of something that occurred after he left. That was a thought, maybe there was still others out there, children of God version 2.0 spread somewhere else in the galaxies. Otherwise like that old movie line, it was an awful waste of space.

Giving up conception after twenty five millennia, gave teaching an old dog new tricks a new meaning. Mentally he started to trip up as he asserted that Karl wasn?t old, not really, and then that he looked amazing for his age, just. Argh, it was bad enough that he did such things with an open mouth but with a supposed ?Betazoid? he was doing it without saying a word now.

Jerking his head to the side to ?clear the slate? he listened as Karl continued again, what Karl put upon that presented slate though made him pause. Stepping back like a programmer examining a large screen depiction of code, he had to. Detaching if just for a moment to take it in he sat there, silently rubbing his chin as he looked at the mosaic that Karl?s words created concerning himself. That some were immortal hearkened back to the Bible stating that some then would yet be around when all the world ended, but what did this mean then if three other individuals, fallen were going around and doing that? God made man mortal before saying to multiply and fill the earth, and these three went around reversing the shortening of life to expand it. . .for companionship. That was telling, they gained in their humanity the need to not be alone, and just like his life psych teacher from way back when she had done a skit on what if you were the only group to live forever on earth he had to agree. In the end, the changing faces would draw a humans mind thin, and the lack of any eternal companionships beyond a handful would limit the dances of interaction also thin.

Now he was one of

 

Rudyard Vane-Tempest
Tokyo streets

Ghost's answers only provoked more questions in Rudyard's mind, though he knew that it was not the time to voice them. It looked like he had a new handler. She was mysterious, she was intelligent and she sounded far too young to be involved in this sort of thing.

She wanted information. Of course she did- that was all anyone wanted, in the end. Human beings were valuable only for the information that they possessed. Information regarding stock prices and market fluctuations; information regarding troop movements and enemy terrain; information regarding disease symptoms and plague carriers. Rudyard had handled all these types of information in the course of his work, and countless more besides. It was routine for him.

But information regarding The Change... that was a different category of information altogether. That was the sort of information that governments would massacre their own people for.

"My dear Ghost," he replied, "firstly, don't call me "Temp". Secondly, I don't know how you breached MI-5 security, but I presume you saw in my file that I can be an unpredictable individual. Thirdly, the only reason you've saved my life is because I know something you don't. If I told you everything the American told me, then I would no longer be of any use to you. And that would be a great pity- we were just starting to get to know one another."

He began moving back toward the subway, glancing around cautiously.

"Moore told me to head to St Regis hotel next to the airport. I'm not going to tell you why or who I'm looking for. You'll have to trust me, and watch my back as I move. Inform me of anything suspicious happening at the hotel, that sort of thing. I assume you have cameras there?"

Tag: LordT

 

Janice
Schnelsen

She looked at Thomas. He was a vigilant young man but something was disturbing about him. His lack of fear and the same time the absence of bravery. He simply was used to this, it seemed. As if he had done this all his life. The Change made their people survivors, she assumed.

"Markus is a good man, he jsut went through a lot. I don´t know him for long, but I believe he suffered a lot from being divided from his daughter. And now this happened . . . " She sighed. Thomas had probably helped save the girls life. And Markus showed nothing but distrust to the young man. She understood, she understood why he wanted to leave. "Give us a few more hours. Together we have a better chance to survive all this." She looked around and thought that she may never find the body. It might be anywhere and probably Charles Weber had only tried to get rid of her. The truth was having Thomas around was much better than being on her own.

"Actually we may need you. You survived a lot. Help us make it out of here. And when we have Alice back, everything will be fine. Believe me. Everything will be okay."

She did not believe this ofr a second. But it had to do for now. She had to keep them together. Once they got divided, everything was over. And something told her the real person to distrust was this German billioanire who showed up a little to convinient.

Tag: LordT

 

Ando Davorin
Parking Lot of St. Mary

It was not the time to think about the why, yet he could not help but wonder what these signs were? He had seen his fair share of languages in life, but this wasn?t Greek or Latin, Cyrillic or Asian as it looked? It reminded him of ancient Sumerian, but it wasn´t quite like it.
?Whatever it is, we should not die for it. Our Lord needs our services not our sacrifice. When I say now, get over to the red fiat over there. Get in and start the engine.? He handed her the keys for his car and looked around. The parking lot was too obvious as an escape for them not to have thought of it, but if they had been after the priest, why bother? He had been immobile.

Ando wishes he had taken the gun with him and something inside of him wished, he had never touched one. ?Now.? He whispered and made sure to follow her. ?And keep your head down!?

He followed her and took the side door, as she made her way around to the driver seat. Looking out for any potential attacker he wondered what the Lord had chosen him for this night? Was he doomed to have a life filled with violence?

Umbra Domini.
Had the dying man spoken madness, or did they truly exist? The Shadow of the Lord, operating right here in Rome? What were they after? This piece of meaningless paper?

Tag: Spy, Fin

 

Margaret Elizabeth Hadley
St. Mary's, Parking Lot


?Whatever it is, we should not die for it. Our Lord needs our services not our sacrifice. When I say now, get over to the red fiat over there. Get in and start the engine.?

Mary nodded as she looked back and forth from Ando to the man with the gun. Ando handed her the keys, and after his signal, they took off. She sped across the parking lot, one hand on her penchant, the other on the keys. Once she reached the car, she unlocked it and jerked open the door. She put the keys in the ignition and cranked.

?Hurry!?

Mary waved at Ando as she slammed her door shut. It jarred her for a second, but she knew that she?d much rather slam a door that get slaughtered by a marauder.

He had killed all of them. All of those little children. Her best friend Rachael. One shot between the eyes. He came to Donny. Blasted away. All of their frightful screams each time another child was murdered.

Rattled, Mary?s breath was shallow. She couldn?t let her memories consume her. Not yet.

She wasn?t ready to die.


TAG: MoK, Fin

 

Chapter One: An American Nightmare


East End, D.C.

They were on schedule, as they left the Osprey. But contact to their command post was no longer available. The peaceful but angry siege of the White House had probably turned into a total mess by now. The Sarge had expected no less. He knelt down in a corner of an alley and waited for all of them to arrive.
He had a touchpad with all kinds of data on the house, including the outline of the whole building with heat signatures of twenty people inside. ?Two hours old.? He explained and turned it on the touchpad. To have such information ins these troubled days, this mission had to be high priority.
?Okay, double check your guns while you listen. Those pieces are brand new and that means they might not work as they are supposed to. Morlin, they told me you are a pretty good shot? You will take position, here, right opposite to the main exit. These guys are gangbangers. Don´t expect them to follow combat strategies. They´ll probably shoot with everything they got and be on drugs once the firefight begins, that is why I want to get in quick and take them out all at once. We were told to get the girl by any means necessary, so everybody not the girl in there has surrendered when we met him or is a hostile in combat. Understood? Fuso, Shep, you take the backdoor. Secure it and once we get in there, you go in. Jenkins and all others do the left sided door. I take the front with Morlin. I will keep them busy and I count on you guys getting there to take them out. Two stories high, at least ten hostiles but probably up to 25 in there. So make sure you don´t hit the girl and otherwise, speak through your gun. Understood??

Fuso wordlessly took his gun and checked it, as he had been told. Pushing his glasses back up his nose he sighed, while all others yelled: ?Yes, Sir.?
The Sarge was rolling his eyes, as he went up and signaled them to spread, then.

Tag: CPL




Farragut Square, Washington D.C.

Milton Prest had no files of lawsuits in his second bureau. It had been reserved for the exclusive contract he was working on right now. Not the one with Carl. He had more or less terminated that agreement by assassinating two of the man´s three host bodies. No, there still was this side-job as the advisor of the President of the USA. He looked at the phone line and smiled. 511 calls. The word he was the only one who was allowed to speak with the President had made it´s way to the staff, obviously. Milton turned back to the only report left to read now. The one that hopefully proofed to be the key to all of this. Washington. The girl was here, right under his eyes and yet he was blind to see her. His senses were numbed by the Change. His network of spies dwindled in the recent events. Things simply fell apart and most of his preparations proofed to be surprisingly ineffective, when all operators simply vanished.

Not the he had no resources anymore. But they became less reliable. Ghost in Tokyo? Useless reports. She had failed to warn him of anything important, like Lilith being there. Or Leonard. Or two embassies blowing up. Germany? Dead, all dead. California? Something had happened there a few hours ago and all his men had failed to answer yet.
It was frustrating, gnawing at his self-inflicted image as the great manipulator and deceiver. He was really not ahead of things. But it didn´t matter. The girl was the key. She had to be.

Milton leaned back in his oversized chair and watched the report again. Carl had died and she had run. They had followed her and now claimed to have lost her, but his sources indicated she might be in their little sanctuary. He had organized a military team to storm it. They were on their way. The Cops were after her, too. But Sanders reported thy were far behind in their investigation still looking into the murder itself. The cops were no concern to him. The gang was, because he did not understand why they had taken her. For who? Why had they not reported to him as he had expected? Why had they lied? H

 

Charles "Carl" Weber
House

Markus didn´t believe him. Of course he didn´t. Carl had counted on it. He was from a generation that had been born with lies and why would he not defy the truth when it held so little comfort?

"The problem is, this man seems to have the same misconceptions about his power than you have. God, if you wanna call him, never intervened down here. Never. You know why? Because it doesn´t work. A giant can´t repair a minitiature. Sebastian doesn´t get it. So we need to find him and teach him to use this power in a more constructive and much less destructive way. And if this doesn´t work, we need to destroy him, before he destroys us." Carl raised a hand. "No, that is actually not what we need to do. That is what I need to do. What you do is your choice. Free will. After all you seem to have been chosen. A kind of prophet for him. And there is still your daughter out there." Carl gave him a mild smile and checked his satelite phone.

"I don´t envy you, Markus. Being touched by God . . . becoming a saint was never easy. But your boss? Puh. I imagine you are up for quite a ride."

Tag: Mitth

---

[b]Ghost[/b] & [b][i]"Adam"[/i][/b][i]Liar in Tokyo[/i]

"Okay, I forgot how paranoid you spooks are. Yeah, well I might ber the only person in this game who doesn´t drop you like a hot potatoe when I got no use for you, but right. Right. The rules are there for a reason. St. Regis you said?" [i]St. Regis. [/i] She typed the name into her filter and leaned back. A little bit of chitchat to win time. "St. Regis. Sure. Wonderful place. Right next to the airport and the view. I had a one night stand there once. Ended pretty embarassing for both of us, but better embarassed while having the greatest view over the city in town." The resulte came up. Two interesting things. She picked the one connected to violence and sighed. It was worth a shot. "And that guy you´re looking for is not by any chance an american cowboy who shoots at people in the penthouse, is he? Looks like he is a pretty lousy shot, as he hasn´t hit anybody. But if you give me a minute I could track that guy down. Or you could go there and investigate. I hear the Japanese police is not that slow, after all." Ghost grinned. This wasn´t a game, but handling it like one made things better.

The other computer beeped. They had found him again. Turning to the screen she saw the picture of the spasming man the "thing" had taken in the embassy. An old man. She knew the face of him from somewhere . . .

[image=http://www.topnews.in/files/Michael_Caine_1.jpg]

[hr]

Adam sat opposite of the brit and was reading the newspaper he had found. Japanese. He wondered why he had never cared to learn the language? actually in his seemingly endless existence this was his first prolonged stay in this country. And it was so unbearable with all the neon lights, beeps and blinking lights, that he regretted not having been around to kill them all, before they became a nation. Beckfris seemed to like it. But like a retarded child with an IQ of 160 when it came to crime he enjoyed the ride. Insanity was something that had to become an issue after the reveleation, but Beckfris had killed a lot of bystanders and hadn´t even got them close to the American. HE had decided he was more effective alone. And therefore he allowed this one to slip. Slip and lead him to whoever was hiding Jameson.

It felt good to be hunting again. Himself. All alone.

It felt got to feel the proximity to the prey and how they came closer, until it was almost intimicy they shared. Right before hte kill.

Jameson was nearby. He knew that.

He pushed up the newspaper again, surely the man who this face belonged to knew Tempest. He had to hide for now.

His eyes fell on one particular picture. Carl Weber. Billionaire.

What did they write about this one? Tokyo. He was here, somehow. Looking around HE did not dare to speak. But he had to find out what Carl was doing here? It was alarming. It was a puzzle-peice he had not yet figured out.

 

Rudyard Vane-Tempest
En route to St Regis Hotel, Tokyo

Rudyard felt sick. The adrenaline had disguised his nausea, but now it kicked in violently, churning around his stomach like a tidal wave. Ghost was speaking, but he could barely hear her. Bible verses swam through his head. How long since he had performed his rituals? Hours? Weeks?

"Behold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard: I cry aloud, but there is no judgment. He hath fenced up my way that I cannot pass, and he hath set darkness in my paths."

If this was God's wrath, then it was only just beginning. The Change had reaped enough destruction. And now...a devastated embassy. Two devastated embassies, in fact. A monstrous, shape-shifting stalker. An American with dangerous knowledge, killed at Rudyard's own hand. And this "Ghost" person, whose vision seemed to be cast over all Tokyo, and whose motivations were still as clear as mud.

"Keep calm and carry on," hissed Rudyard to himself. "Isn't that what they say?"

He got up and staggered toward the road. A taxi was no use at this time of day, the streets would be jammed. The subway was a dangerous, crowded place, with potential assassins at every stop. Better to acquire his own travel. He took a breath, and stepped out in front of an oncoming motorcycle, slipping his gun out from his jacket and pointing it directly at the vehicle.

"Y-yamete," he stuttered, before realising how quiet his voice sounded, and correcting himself. "Yamete!"

The biker swerved and skidded to a halt. There were plenty of onlookers. Some of them were screaming and running away, others were ducking for cover in doorways and behind cafe tables. A few were taking videos on their phones.

But it was a necessary risk. The police would hopefully be pre-occupied with the chaos in the other parts of the city, and there was no quicker way to get to the hotel. Rudyard lifted the bike, clumsily straddling the seat while trying to strap his briefcase to the back, all the while holding his phone in one hand and his gun in the other. He fired a couple of warning shots to disperse the bystanders, and after half a minute he was up and away.

"Ghost!" he shouted down the phone. "I'm on my way to the hotel now! The American is precisely who I'm looking for, where is he now?"

Tag: LordT