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Post by W.R. Lawrence on Mar 8, 2016 22:16:24 GMT -5
Hanging his head and laughing heartily he sputters out, "Well that figures. I do make one request, if you do intend to shoot me aim a little higher next time. Frankly, I was more concerned at you changing my gender with that thing than taking my life."
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Post by The Fixer on Mar 8, 2016 22:30:05 GMT -5
Trying hard to conceal the roaring laughter threatening to burst forth, she looks at him with sparkling eyes and says "Deal!" She clicks the safety back into place and holsters her weapon again. Discreetly tugging her skirt down close to her knee. Thinking it would be nice to get cleaned up and into fresh clothing. That would mean at some point tomorrow finding someplace to pick up a versatile pair of slacks, t shirt and spring jacket. "Shall we delve into the file? From what I've seen, we have our work cut out us."
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Post by W.R. Lawrence on Mar 9, 2016 11:36:44 GMT -5
"Indeed, we should." Lawrence says turning back to his file. "I've taken a moment to peruse through the file I picked up at HQ. First off I am all yours. Uhh I mean I've been put on loan to you and your agency for the duration of this mission." he says hurriedly with redness creeping into his face. Continuing to flip pages so as to not look up and further encourage his blush he continues, "Most of this paperwork is a mix of dispatches regarding chemical weapons from various locations through out the Middle East." Lawrence says squinting in the dimly lit room. Then Lawrence stops in mid thought leans back in the pew, his blood running cold. The playful blush in his cheeks has vanished and is replaced by a sickly pale tone. On the top of the stack was an urgent dispatch labeled "Report on the incident at Umm Al Aish", it was authored by Lawrence himself. For a moment he was transported away from reality and dropped back into the conflict he had just left. He could feel the heat on his skin, the feel of sand blowing against his face and that smell. That sickly sweet smell that permeated his senses but more so a feeling of horror that gripped his soul like an icy fist. Returning to reality Lawrence realized he was seating profusely in the cool night air. Turning back to her he says "What does the name Edvar Vévoda mean to you?"
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Post by The Fixer on Mar 9, 2016 13:47:58 GMT -5
At the mention of that name all humour died from her eyes. She grows ghostly white and gets that panicky feeling that comes every so often. At least she knows her chance meeting with this handsome stranger is indeed a complete set up from those deep secret corners of government offices and the side of the military nobody speaks about. The pages didn't initially make much sense, with strange reports from lands far away. Something tells her the stranger beside her is hiding something more than even he knew. Chemical reports bring what they are, she at least understands they are in for quite a mission. And she is quickly reminded why most perfumes quickly turn her stomach and why cherries and almonds always make her stomach clinch and cause her to clear a room a little too quickly. "That isn't a very popular name. And I've only heard it in very hushed tones... It appears to mean something to you though. You are paler than a ghost on its death bed and perspiring. What in the blue blazes is going on?"
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Post by W.R. Lawrence on Mar 9, 2016 14:23:01 GMT -5
"Hushed tones is right." Lawrence said staring out over the balcony. "The guy is a ghost, he has never been seen and believed be some to be a myth. I've only heard rumors myself. Have a look at this dispatch here." He says quietly handing her the Umm Al Aish report. "Nearly a year ago we were encamped nearly 80 km north of this town making strikes against the local railway disrupting Turkish supplies. The war was winding down and we had been on the offensive and doing well. One night I was sitting on a dune looking back towards the city. I noticed strange lightning and the thud of what I thought was thunder. However, something did not seem right. I sent a patrol at first light to check the town to see what had occurred. They never returned. Thinking the Turks were moving in to strike against us I took a small squad of men and set out myself late at night towards the village. Arriving near dawn I found the village nearly leveled and not a living soul within it. Everyone and everything was dead. This sickly sweet smell lingered in the air. We didn't stay long as we had no idea what we were up against. On our way out I found some shell fragments and sent them in for analysis. The metallurgy was consistent with shells coming from the Vévoda Armament works." Lawrence lets out a sigh, "At the time nothing was done with the information as everyone, including our governments buy munitions from him. My report was buried and I was told to forget what I saw. I guess someone finally decided he needs to be stopped."
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Post by W.R. Lawrence on Mar 9, 2016 14:24:17 GMT -5
Turning back to her Lawrence reaches out and gently but firmly grasps her hands and pulls her in close and looks right into her eyes. "Clue, I need you to understand, this guy is everywhere and nowhere. He has agents in every city and they will kill whomever crosses him. If we are going to "open the book" on this guy there is no turning back. The game does not end until we get him or he kills us. Do you understand that?"
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Post by The Fixer on Mar 9, 2016 15:04:15 GMT -5
Fear is a very tangible thing. The look in Lawrence's eyes and the intensity of his grip told her she wasn't alone in fear. Pieces began falling into place. They were both followed or strongly suspected they were. Neither one knew of the other before this all started. Presumably to try to hide their identities. And now here they were both holding files of strange documents and staring at each other. Taking a deep breath, she answers "Yes. I'm aware of the risk involved. And I understand that it is us or him...or them...either way I get it. It isn't going to be pretty or fun. Downright scary at the best of times and I won't be seeing a Saturday in bed with a book in a long time, if ever again. But I'm in and I get it." Gently reaching up to his wrists to give them a light squeeze in a knowing way. She says, "probably a good idea to get set up at the inn and grab some new clothes. We don't blend well with the locals. I'll be ok Lawrence and I have your back. All I can say is I won't go down without a fight. I certainly hope you won't either."
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Post by W.R. Lawrence on Mar 9, 2016 15:48:05 GMT -5
"Alright." he said giving her hands a slight squeeze. "I've gotten a room at the inn back towards the Sitting Room. There appears to be some all night shops nearby where we can find a change in attire. I might need your help as my sense of fashion is quite bad." he laughs. Tomorrow we'll need to catch a train south. Vévoda owns many companies and is a master of technology. Therefore being here in the midst of many cameras is no good. For what we are about to do we'll need to go old school. But we will need some new school weapons as these will not be enough. I have a place we can go." Standing to his feet he offers her his hand. "Come along, the game is afoot. Off we go."
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Post by The Fixer on Mar 9, 2016 16:05:31 GMT -5
Quickly slipping into her coat and stuffing the file into her bag, she takes the offered hand, ready to leave the church. She chuckles a little at the fact that he is fashion-challenged. In her experience most military men have a hard time giving up the green and khaki. No worries though, she's an expert shopper on a mission. She mentally figures a half hour, then takes measure of her companion again, and decides an hour, tops, to get them both ready. She jovially says to Lawrence, "any colour preferences I should know about, or land mine colours to stay away from?" As they begin to head out they both hear a strange shuffling nose coming from the main sanctuary.
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Post by W.R. Lawrence on Mar 9, 2016 16:21:32 GMT -5
Listening for a moment he hears it too. Just then a gust of wind flies in through an open door and the lit candles at the alter are snuffed. "Not good" he whispers. Moving quickly they descend the stairs to the vestibule, Lawrence opens the door peers outside and hands her the key to his room, "Take this and go!" he says hurriedly. "I will catch up with you at the inn shortly, before I do I'm going to see if I can get the drop on our "friend" in there. He winks. He unsnaps the cover over the Webley and holds it at low ready. Pointing down the street he whispers, "Make your way down the street, stay to the shadows and watch for anyone who may follow." Hearing steps behind him he tells her to "Go!" one last time before sealing the door and turning towards the noise inside.
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Post by The Fixer on Mar 9, 2016 16:57:29 GMT -5
A protest begins to form but quickly gets swallowed. He isn't joking and isn't giving her an option. She takes the key and flees out the door, glancing quickly in either direction before steeling herself to the shadows. Not wanting to stick out, she drops her red purse in the first puddle she can find to at least cut down on the colour and dumps her coat in the closest dumpster. Thanking the Mother of Weather it is finally warm enough to go without a coat, she tucks the last bit of colour on her under that collar of her blazer. Down to just black, with her bag, she slips down a back alley across the street from the church. Knowing the direction she needs to go, she hurries down the alley, turning quickly around the corner, she plasters herself against the cool stone of the building and listens. She takes a moment to catch her breath and slow her heart rate hammering in her ears. Hoping she doesn't hear anything from the church, or in the alley she just raced down. 5 seconds pass. Then 10. After 20 she knows she hasn't been seen leaving the church. Turning and narrowly avoiding a garbage can she runs down the narrow street, leaping over puddles and a cat that nearly caused her to scream and break an ankle. She gets to the inn finally. Looking across the lot at the main entrance and seeing nothing but a car parked on the road outside, she crosses the road to the building beside the inn and pauses again. She hoped Lawrence will be careful. She doesn't want to lose her partner so soon after finding out what is still to come. Taking care to slip into the inn door quietly without making too much noise, she notices the desk clerk is busy reading a newspaper and hadn't heard her enter. As she is approaching the counter she thinks the man appears to be sleeping. She gets close enough and finds that to be true as he isn't reading the paper so much as investigating the nuiances of the back of his eyelids. She quickly slips the key out of her skirt pocket and reads the number. 42E "Hmm, this must be one of those inns that number all rooms in the place and uses letters for the floors." The building is older so she searches out a staircase to climb six flights of stairs. When she enters the staircase she realizes that there are only 4 floors in the building. "It looks like they numbered them differently then." Again looking down at the key in her hand, she notices that she was covering the rest with her thumb. "42 East wing" she reads again. "That makes a difference. And I'm clearly tired since I didn't clue in until now the inn only had 4 floors!!" She quickly makes her way up to the fourth floor where the numbers start at 40. Double checking the little sign that points to the right for the east wing and left for the west., she hurries to the room. Unlocking the door as quietly as possible, she stops for a moment. "If it were me and I was alone I would have set up some sort of rigging to protect the room and me." She slides her hand into the tiny opening of the door to run it from bottom to top to see if there's anything she needs to be worried about. Feeling a tiny thread taut on the deadbolt of the door she knows there's a gun trained on the door and the string on the firing pin. A sudden jarring open of the door and she'd be in a world of pain. At least she knows what kind of partner she has in Lawrence. She unhooks the thread, letting it slacken slowly, in case it is something else. She slowly pushes the door open to find a gun propped across the room set up to fire if someone were to burst through the door. She moves quickly to the gun to disarm it and thinks "and here I am worrying about him when it's my own butt I should be worrying about!"
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Post by W.R. Lawrence on Mar 9, 2016 18:26:52 GMT -5
Moving quietly through the dark Lawrence's senses strain for any stimulus. Moving back into the main sanctuary he hears the steps again and looking back toward the altar he sees the faint glow of a candle. The glow grows as one after another the candles are relit by an old priest. Quietly holstering the revolver Lawrence breathes a sigh of relief. Not wanting to answer any questions he slips out of the church into the cool night air. As he passes down the dark street Lawrence feels the eyes of his pursuer yet again. He walks faster and again ducks down a tight alleyway to his right. His pursuer knowing he has been made gives chase and Lawrence can hear him catching up. Lawrence then makes another right turn with the man right on his heels. As the man rounds the corner the last thing he sees is Lawrence's fist. The man drops, out cold for the moment. Lawrence finds an old electrical cord and uses it to bind the man's hands in front of him. As he rifles through the pockets of the unconscious man he begins to stir. Stepping back and drawing the Webley, Lawrence waits for him to come around. Glancing down at the man's passport Lawrence says, "Good evening Mr. Smith. Have a nice nap did we?" Smith scowls back at him, "You'll be having a long one yourself shortly." "Oh I don't think so." sneers Lawrence. "Now, what do you want with me? Who sent you?" Smith laughs and said "I ain't telling you nothing." Angered Lawrence steps forward and strikes Smith across the side of the face with the Webley. Smith spits and curses and Lawrence points the revolver again this time cocking the hammer. Before he can ask again, Smith retrieves a small object from his coat collar and shoves it into his mouth. Lawrence steps forward but it's too late. With a defiant look on his face Smith collapses against the wall and breathes his last. Lawrence kneels and checks his pulse. None and a faint aroma of bitter almonds escapes his lips. "Cyanide, bloody poison" he laments. Looking through the last of the few things in Smith's pocket he finds a matchbook. Opening the cover he finds 42 East Wing written on the inside cover. With an new found alarm he runs for the hotel. Arriving outside he notices nothing unusual. Making his way up to the room he stands to the side of the door knowing it is covered by the Beretta and knocks quietly. "Clue, are you alright? It's Lawrence, let me in."
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Post by The Fixer on Mar 9, 2016 18:45:50 GMT -5
She stops pacing when she hears the knock. Grabbing the gun from its position across the room, and making sure it's indeed ready to fire, she presses herself against the door training the weapon at chest height. Keeping the chain on and clicking the deadbolt off she opens the door just enough to see it is indeed Lawrence. "Thank god!" She says. Closing the door quickly and unhooking the chain, she lets Lawrence in while taking a quick peak up the hallway to see if there's any movement. She shuts it behind them both snapping the deadbolt into place and putting the chain back on. "What happened?"
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Post by W.R. Lawrence on Mar 9, 2016 19:54:28 GMT -5
Sitting down in a chair Lawrence motions for Clue to have a seat. "The noise in the church turned out to be the priest making his rounds. After slipping away I found I was being followed again. I managed to get the drop on him and I attempted to question him. Before I could get much out of him he took a cyanide capsule. While going through his effects I found my room number on a matchbook. Was anything unusual found in here?" Lawrence queried.
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Post by The Fixer on Mar 9, 2016 20:10:22 GMT -5
"Other than the surprise you left me with door rigging, I haven't noticed anything that would look out of place to me. It is your room and I've barely had enough time to do anything but get in the door open without killing myself and spend 5 minutes hoping I wasn't loosing a partner." Now she takes a better look at the room. "Might be a good idea for you to check though."
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