Battered Old Bird

GM: Knox
Players: Team Simmons Corp LLC: Knox and Norman
Synopsis: Knox receives a phone call from a former acquaintance from his past, Jon Glaser, who’s looking to hire runners for a job. Glaser is killed during an attempted hit / gun fight in the lower security area of the CAS and Norman and Knox decide to deliver a package in hopes of getting the job anyway. It’s a bust but they both make a lvl one Ripper Doc contact instead: Vlad Terkov, an African-american elf with a Russian identity who operates in the basement of a massage parlor.
Date: December 1 2070


Knox is sleeping in his apartment when he answers his phone; it's his old contact Glaser, British expatriate by way of Hong Kong and now somewhere in the UCAS, possibly Seattle…..

"Hello?"

"Oy, Henry I'm back inta town, think I may make my mark and I’m lookin to meet some players with the bankroll I've got."

"All right, where are you?"

"Comin' outta the ol' airport wit me driva'. I'll pick you up, bring a friend. Where should I get ya?"

Knox Leaves the address for the Cool Cat club and switches to his encrypted cyberphone and leaves a message for Norman to come meet him in front of The Cool Cat.

«Plot» Knox says, “I’ll need a list of any armor/weapons you'll have on you for the meet and greet."

«Plot» Norman says, "For the meet itself, with no other information to go on: Yamaha Pulsar, form-fitting half suit, Actioneer high-collar shirt, unarmored clothing, Actioneer long coat, disguise kit in the car, and various non-weapon misc gear."
«Plot» Knox says, "What's the total armor ballistic/impact count then (I can’t see ya sheet)."
«Plot» Norman says, "4/2."
«Auto-Judge[]» Norman (#10869) rolls Disguise + 4 for "Mr. Charles' normal appearance, plus Polymask": 1 2 2 3 3 4 8

Knox lights a cigarette and steps outside in his dark grey business suit. He looks around and puffs smoke into the cold Denver air.
Just about five minutes before the scheduled meet, Mr. Charles emerges from a faded gold Nissan sedan that had been parked across the street for quite some time. Toting a small Halliburton leather briefcase, he quickly crosses the street and approaches you.

«Plot» Knox says, " For the record my armor is 5/2 (actioneer ensemble, armored pea coat) , I'll be bringing a Ruger Super Warhawk, EXEX Ammo, and a switchblade."

Mr. Charles gestures towards the door with his briefcase. "Are we going in, or…?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow.

Knox nods as Mr. Charles approaches and flicks his cig to the ground and squashing it with a polished dress shoe. "Friend of mine by the name of Glaser's lookin' to bankroll some players. He's good, was good when I knew him anyway."

A chrome and silver SUV pulls up in front. The driver looks like the muscle: Conservative suit, sunglasses, tough but not posturing and his hands at 10 and 2. In the passenger street is a bald middle aged Caucasian human with thick and very large glasses, almost ornate looking. The window rolls down:
"Oi, Henry. Get in' de car ya?" The bald man looks at Norman up and down, "Who's your friend?"

Knox gets in behind the passenger seat, "Charles meet Glaser, Glaser meet Charles."

Mr. Charles sizes the driver up first, then the passenger. He glances over the vehicle, committing its description to his memory, examining it for telltale marks or oddities. Only then does he nod curtly at Glaser, offering him a thin, professional smile.

«Plot» Knox says, " Roll intelligence please"
«Auto-Judge[]» Norman (#10869) rolls Intelligence for "??": 1 2 2 2 4 5
«Plot» Knox says, "The car is a custom armored job from the look of the frame inside and likely not rented, therefore logically who ever owns the vehicle could have any number of electronic goodies installed."

The car starts going, and Glaser turns the stereo onto some kind of dark, brooding electronic music. He turns and shows off stereotypical terrible British dental work. Metal and wires and bits of food. "Now, I can't go into details why I'm here- but I ain't wanted back home." Knox turns to look at Norman for a read.

Glaser continues, "There's a dead man in the trunk. A halfer." Glaser taps his head, "He's got some information I need in there for a little armored heist I need to bankroll to get back into good graces with people back in Shanghai."

Mr. Charles was sitting in comfortable silence, watching everything at once as is his custom. At the mention of 'dead man', he almost twitches. Knox probably catches it, being much more familiar with his body language, but to a stranger there is no outward reaction. He casts a casual glance over his shoulder, towards the trunk. He's not concerned. Why, he usually has a body in his own trunk. Often more than one. Scores of them. He gives Knox a look and licks his lips.

Knox clears his throat, "All right. So we're to accompany……I'm guessing you want our talents? How soon is this going down? We have a crew we like to work with."

Glaser shakes his head, "No time line, its regular city auctions, that man-" he points towards the trunk, "Didn't want to give up the information after I had paid him /across the fucking ocean/ to collect it. He got selfish." Glaser smiles. "You like Shanghai Henry?"

"It's fucked."

"Yea I love it too….well."

Glaser hands a briefcase over to Knox, "Bonded credstick for Vladimir Terkov, former morgue official. Ripper Doc. You know how I get around blood and gore. You remember Santa Monica?"

Knox grunts and checks the briefcase, "Bonded SIN, guys address….heh he's right here in the CAS." Knox looks to Charles, "Whattya say?"

Mr. Charles looks down at his two thousand yen suit and smiles wryly at Knox. "I'm thinking I should have brought a change of clothes." Speaking for the first
time in front of Glaser, you notice he muddles his normally crisp London accent just a bit.

Glaser turns back to face the windshield, "Great we'll head over, pay the man get the info and—"
ScccccreeeeEEEECH! BAM! CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

The world turns over and over like a clothing dryer, a perfect 360. Someone's screaming and there's constant noise.

«Plot» Knox says, "Roll me reaction tn/4 please"
«Auto-Judge[]» Norman (#10869) rolls Reaction vs. TN 4 for "ride the snake": 3 3 4 5 8 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls Reaction vs TN 4 for "Ride the snake": 2 4 4 5 15 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls 6 vs TN 4 for "Hit Team ambush collectively": 1 2 2 2 5 11 = 2 Successes
«Plot» Knox says, " Pass order is I, you, and then our assaulters but first!"
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls Body vs TN 6 for "12M-4 for car armor, -2 for impact armor": 2 3 4 5 7 = 1 Success
«Plot» Knox says, " Knox has a Medium Stun wound, please roll your body tn/6 minus impact armor"
«Auto-Judge[]» Norman (#10869) rolls Body vs TN 4 for "base TN6, -2 impact armor": 1 2 4 = 1 Success
«Plot» Knox says, " KP it? "
«Auto-Judge[]» Norman (#10869) rolls Body - 1 vs TN 4 for "base TN6, -2 impact armor KP reroll": 3 5 = 1 Success
«Plot» Norman says, "Out of KP. Stand."
«Plot» Knox says, "Please hold for pose, then your turn :)"
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls Pistols + Combat Pool: 3 vs TN 6 for "Base TN4+2 modifier for Medium stun wound, firing Ruger Warhawk, called shot 12D w/ EXEX": 2 3 3 3 5 5 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls Pistols + Combat Pool: 3 vs TN 6 for "KP1": 1 1 2 2 4 4 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls Pistols + Combat Pool: 3 vs TN 6 for "KP2": 3 3 4 4 5 7 11 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls 5 vs TN 8 for "Hitman #1 w/ Armor Vest -4tn": 1 2 3 3 5 = 0 Successes

Knox reels around in the car, luckily he buckled up! He pops the release and retches from the concussion he's sustained. Quickly but bleary he surveys the situation.
BRRRAKA! BRRRAKA!

The windshield pops and splinters, rounds are pumped into the driver from less the five feet away. Knox , who was on the damaged side, pops up behind the overturned car and fires his large revolver in the brain pan of the driver/gunman. BLAM!

Hitman 1 (The Assaulting Driver) sprays his SMG into the air as his body crumples against the hit squad’s passenger car.

"Help me please!" screams Glaser. The second gunman fires over his shoulder KA-POW KA-POW. Glasers face is shattered to a pulp and the second gunman, an Asian looking male in his twenties, starts running away. "GET THE BRIEFCASE!", shouts Knox.

«Plot» Knox says, "Your actions?"
«Plot» Norman says, "Get his briefcase, get MY briefcase, and bail out the car on the side away from where we're taking fire."
«Plot» Knox says, " You're already on that side so no worries. I'd say grabbing both suitcases and holding onto them are one simple action. You have one more if you want."

«Plot» Norman says, "I'm bailing out of the car on the far side, leaving the door open, and taking a knee behind the left rear tire."

Sky.
Ground.
Sky.
Glass. Dust. The hollow clang of bullets on armored steel. The time in his head slowly catches back up to reality as Norman's head bobbles back and forth lazily, momentarily oblivious to the chaos around him. Automatic weapons fire. INCOMING automatic weapons fire. Time to move. His briefcase was between his legs and it remained there during the crash; he clutches the handle in a death grip and reaches for Glaser's briefcase.
No. The door.
He yanks at the door handle and tumbles out of it, taking the other briefcase with him as he falls to a knee behind the car. He has no idea what just happened, only that he almost died and there are at least two people right here trying to seal the deal. Stop. Look. Think.

«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls 6 vs TN 14 for "Second Gunman firing Medium range, blind fire, partial cover at Knox": 1 1 1 1 9 9 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls 6 vs TN 14 for "Second shot towards Norman same deal": 1 1 2 4 4 5 = 0 Successes

Sirens are closing in fast…..

KA-POW! KA-POW!

Two more shots are fired with just a glance from the second gunman who's running on foot. One shot sets off a nearby car alarm. Several bystanders are ducking for cover, one of them leaves there car and runs for it. Said hitman jumps into said car and speeds away from the crime scene. (Free Pose, I'll you first pose).

«Auto-Judge[]» Norman (#10869) rolls Intelligence for "description of getaway car": 1 2 2 3 4 11
«Plot» Knox says, " Do you have any vision mods?"
«Plot» Norman says, "No."
«Plot» Knox says, " You're able to get the make and model of the car (2064, Nissan Commuter—Green) as well as a partial on the license plate as it peels off."
«Plot» Norman says, "Second question, where are we exactly?"
«Plot» Knox says, "Good question, we're several blocks from the Cool Cat, still in CAS."
«Plot» Knox says, "Also, there's about 40 in-game seconds before cops arrive. There's an alleyway heading west on your side, and on Knox's side are several gentrifying businesses and apartment buildings"

Mr. Charles watches the green car speed off, noting its direction and description. He tosses Glaser's briefcase over the top of the SUV, towards you, and takes off towards the alley at a dead sprint.

Sirens get nearer, pocsec cameras are on and taking pictures of three /visible/ dead men in the middle of the CAS. This shit doesn't happen everyday, not even in the seedier areas.

Knox catches the suitcase and sprints towards the alleyway while simultaneously holstering his revolver into a shoulder holster. He catches sup quickly,
"What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck."

kanelynch2_221081.jpg

Great. An 8 foot tall chain link fence. Knox throws his case over and starts climbing.

«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls Athletics vs TN 3: 1 5 5 = 2 Successes
«Plot» Knox says, "Roll athletics tn 3 for fence / getting into the clear"
«Plot» Knox says, " Or strength tn5 to default"
«Auto-Judge[]» Norman (#10869) rolls Athletics vs TN 3 for "still hoppin' fences": 2 2 3 4 4 = 3 Successes

Mr. Charles hefts his own briefcase over the top of the fence. Before it hits the ground with a dull thud, he's already halfway up, flying up it like a wounded spider. He vaults over the top and punctuates his landing with a little tuck-roll. Instantly, he's on his feet and collecting his case, which has a large split in the leather where it hit the ground, exposing the aluminum alloy shell underneath. He frowns at it.

A half hour later of back tracking through alleys, several cross streets, and a small park, Knox slows his jog to a brisk walk. Sweat beads down his face and his left palm's bleeding slightly from some glass. He puts the briefcase down and holds onto both of his knees panting.

Mr. Charles is breathing about as hard as he was when he extracted himself from the shot-up car, though he is sweating a bit under his mask. He doesn't seem to mind the half-hour run, and in fact he looks much calmer than earlier. He checks his 5's and 25's and decides its safe enough to talk. Setting his briefcase down, he takes a knee and pretends to tie his shoe. "So! What now, lad?" he asks, sounding far, far too chipper considering the circumstances.
===============================> Police Rumors <===============================
You receive word from Police Scanner (Thu Dec 2 15:32:16 2010):
…………HSSSS…..
…….Distpatch, this is Dispatch…….Hotel-13 do you copy?…HSSSS

…….Hotel-13 copies over….HSSSS….
……Hotel-13 this is Dispatch, reporting shots fired shots fired code 113 in the vicinity of 6th Avenue and Havana…..
….HSSSSS…..Hotel-13 copies, we're close by. Responding! Over!……HSSS……
------> Posted by Knox (#4448) <-----

Knox leans over and retches again, he seems dizzy and sick looking a tad green. Must have been the concussions. Checking his silver chromed wristwatch, "We're not far from this guy Terkov's place. Address is a Massage Parlor under the I-25 over pass. Lets get a cab yea?"

Mr. Charles shuffles backwards, fearing that you'll vomit on his now dusty and ripped overcoat. He lays his briefcase down and opens it just enough to reach inside, fumbling around for several seconds before extracting a packet of paracetamol tablets and closing the case. Straightening, he tosses them at you and starts for the road, eyes already scanning for a cab. "I could use a massage," he says with a grin over his shoulder, "my hamstrings are a little tight after that run."

Knox frowns at the tablets and dry swallows both. After Norman hails a cab they hop in and head to the address.

BEV R 'S MASS E PALA

Flashes in gold and green neon over a torn white awning. The building is a one story plascrete and slap-brick job stuck between an auto shop and a boarded up florist. Clouds roll in and the Denver cold air starts to drizzle sleet. Knox pays the cabdriver with some paper CAS scrip. "Vlad Terkov." he says aloud to no one the Ork holds the door open for Norman.

Bev's Massage Palace is a drab service window with a waiting room, some cheap paintings, a security camera in a cage, and a maglocked door.

Mr. Charles hesitates at the doorway but chooses to walk in anyway, rather than stand awkwardly and peer about. He ditches his overcoat on a nearby chair at first opportunity, and seems pleased that the suit itself has been spared the abuse of the crash.

A disembodied female voice announces, "How can we help you gentleman?" Canned girly giggles come from an unseen PA.

Knox sighs, "You can cut the crap. We're here on business…….Glaser sent us, we've got a delivery for the good doctor." Knox holds up the suitcase towards the security camera which swivels slowly towards the duo. A male's voice comes over the loudspeaker, "Bev move, comp all rooms an extra 10 minutes and unlock the door." The door clicks open.

Mr. Charles leaves his overcoat on the chair and crosses the room, where he pulls the door open for you without a word.

The two head down the hall, five closed doors line either side of the hallway with soft muffled moaning/grunting/laughing sounds coming from within the rooms. At the end of the hall way is another similar white door which unlocks as you near. Knox hesitates, then shrugs, and opens the door. Bright fluorescent lights flicker at the top of what are wooden stairs and a tangy disinfectant smell fills your nostrils.

"Come down come down and close the door behind you. Watch your shoes.", says an unseen man.

Mr. Charles pauses at the top of the stairs as the door shuts behind him. He opens his case slightly, reaches into a hidden pocket in the lid, and withdraws his Taser which he tucks into a small concealed holster at his hip. He takes a deep breath, straightens his coat, and begins slowly down the steps.

«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls 4 vs TN 4 for "Knox's revolver MAD Scanner": 1 2 4 5 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Knox (#4448) rolls 4 vs TN 6 for "Charles Taser plus concealable holster": 4 4 4 5 = 0 Successes

Knox makes his way down the steps and something beeps as he passes the third step down. He carefully walks around a congealed puddle of blood that is slowly draining through a grate on the white tiled floor. A surgical handsaw starts whining and before you is a tall elven male of African background in surgical scrubs and mask, going to town on a dead trolls arm. Vlad Terkov the name doesn't really bring that image to mind. Behind Vlad on several tables is said troll's clothing, another arm, two legs wrapped in plastic, and on a weight counter a small pile of men's jewelry. "Hope you're not planning on using that gun since Glaser sent you." The hand saw turns off and the Dr. places the severed arm onto the table behind him. Wiping gore from his hands he looks at Norman, "So. How's ol' Glaser anyway?"

Mr. Charles ignores the blood and guts on the floor; he's burning all these clothes as soon as the job is done. When Vlad asks about Glaser, he looks at Knox with a slight smirk and asks the Ork, "Good question. How do you think he is, lad?"

Knox cracks the back of his neck, "Look I don't know what the fuck happened. He said he was putting some kind of job together……..looks like he was back to his old ways and pissed of some bad hombres in the Shanghai metropolis. He picked us and about five minutes we get hit.", the Ork places the suitcase on top of the sheet covered torso of what was a male troll. "Glaser took two in the face, but he wanted you to have that."

Terkov is silent for a moment. "Well……………..fuck. I was hoping to get a percentage of the cut on that, I just spoke to him on the phone last night." Removing his surgical gloves he looks in the suitcase and smiles, "But at least I got my finders fee for arranging the body-", he looks up, "You didn't bring the body did you. Of course not." He seems disappointed.

Knox looks at Charles, "So what that's that?"

Terkov shakes his head, "The cadaver, Tristan Rheingold had wetware specs on private database housing insider information on some upcoming city auctions. We were going to use that information. Unless you want to hack into some government grids the loot's done. But here-", he repeats his contact information, "You need someone to really disappear, house call or in office or you're looking to get some secondhand wetware consider me for business and vice versa."

Mr. Charles looks thoughtfully down at the floor, probably trying to remember which hospital services that area and which morgue handles suspicious deaths. Ahh well, probably not worth the money anyway. He looks up at the dismembered body, then around the room. A strange look creeps onto his face.

Knox copies down the new contacts info into his pocsec, "At least I got something out of this." He starts to offer a hand but doesn't, "Glaser brought me up after that Seattle incident. Too bad he wound up like that, guy should have gotten out of the game earlier. Anyway, Terkov……you can call me Knox, Henry Knox."

Mr. Charles keeps his hands tightly at his sides, afraid to touch anything. "And I'm a good friend of Henry's. My name is Edwin. Edwin Charles."

Terkov nods, "Well thanks for the payment, sorry to hear about ol' Graser. At least it was quick." The doctor turns back to his work and starts up the handsaw, "Keep in touch."

Edwin winces slightly as the saw starts up. The only thing that would make this day better is getting some murdered trog blood on him. He looks at Knox and flicks his eyes impatiently towards the stairs.

Knox turns on his heel with a raised eyebrow at Charles, he mouths "Edwin" with a smirk and quickly leaves the massage parlor and lights a cigarette in the rain. "Well, I have to say I didn't see any of this coming."

Edwin remembers to grab his coat from the chair and dons it once outside. He finds his pack of Red Apples is crushed beyond recognition, and he sighs loudly and stuffs them back into his pocket. "Well." he says. "I'm going to go have a really good steak and a martini. Then I'm going to a hotel and go to sleep. And when I wake up," he says, gesturing for you to give him a cigarette, "I'm going to look up the name of a good plastic surgeon. Because, if my memory serves me, we were in a firefight in a vehicle that had a dead body in it."

Knox nods, "I've got a friend in Knight Errant records, don't worry too much but if you are-", he hands you a cigarette from his chrome cigarette case, 'Yamatetsu Ol' Cowboys', contact Slice. Knox repeats a coded LTG phone number.
Knox continues, "We better split up. Enjoy your dinner, we've got that hotel job coming up……."

Edwin lights his cigarette and stares out across the street. He nods absently at you and remains in his place for a short while before turning and walking in the opposite direction, no doubt to wander the streets for an hour before he feels safe enough to catch a cab.**

BE SURE TO PARENT THIS PAGE TO INDEX:LOGS

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License