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The New World Blues


mythicdawnmaster

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Lisbeth leant against one of the metal walls of the safe house, a glass of water in her hand, she tipped it up into her mouth and swallowed what was left of, slowly walking to a table that stood near enough the centre of the room. She set her glass down and buried her face in her hands, letting escape from her lips a shaky sigh. She withdrew her hands and looked at their stained red fingertips, a mixture of her own blood, and that of Sparrows. She stopped herself from remembering the couple they used to be, and instead thought of him as just another officer killed in the war that raged on between the Government and the so called 'bad guys', the rebels. Not that it made it hugely better thinking of Sparrow as just a soldier, that only concealed the fact he was a real person, not just a title.

 

She was drawn from her grief as Candice, Arthur, and a team entered the room, her green eyes darted from face as she attempted to name them, but it was no use. Lisbeth seldom ever wandered into the safehouses that lay hidden throughout both Hope and Sustenance, for, up until now, she had had no reason to, most jobs were complicated assassinations that required her to get as far away as possible after, but this recent one meant she had the time just to go and relax a while. Which didn't happen, instead she found her long time friend dying, and everyone else dead.

 

After she had sized up those approaching, in order of rank, she addressed both Arthur and Candice, who seemed to show more experience than the others that accompanied them.

"Hmph, the way that guy came running to you i'm not surprised you came to see what the fuss was about. Well, judging by the chatter... the fuss is all me." She said slightly uncomfortably with all of the gazes and attention from everyone, but it wasn't too bothersome. "Well, The safehouse deeper down in the old factory district was,,, wiped clean, Commander Alec and everyone else is dead." Lisbeth said looking down, almost choking on her words as a lump formed in her throat. She swallowed and continued "Whoever did it has skill, an assassin, although by no means a clean killer. I didn't know where else to report this as i know you have a link to main command."

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The Courier sits in his motel room, his commlink chimes but he ignores it as he sits with his legs crossed and drinks a tall glass of scotch. He waited until the fifth chime to answer it. He picks up the device and hits the receive button. A computerized voice echoes in his ear.

 

"Is this The Courier?" It asks, The Courier replies with a "Yes." The voice quiets for a moment then returns. "I have a job for you, meet my associate at the King Tavern in one hour. He will give you further details. Do not include the police or the government. If we see anyone that looks like that you will be cut down by a sniper do you understand." The Courier smirked, "Amateurs.." He thought as he confirmed it by hanging up.

 

He had been in this business for sometime so he had received similar threats before. He walks calmly over to his bedroom and opens his suitcase. Inside was a set of suits, a pair of shoes. He unzips the back of the suitcase to reveal four pistols, a sawed off double barreled shotgun and an array of knives. He pulls out two of the colts and slides them into his under-arm holsters. Fixed to his chest rig was a spot for the double-barrel. He checks the chambers and slides it inside the holster. He pulls a leather gauntlet with a switchblade mounted to his from the case and latches it to his arm.

 

 

He throws his coat on and ties a tie before he leaves, he checks out and informs the bellhop to send his suitcase to the lobby. He walks along the streets of Hope late at night, when a policeman asked him his business he flashed a fake government badge and they no longer asked questions. One even offered to escort him to his destination. He soon arrived to the bar. He walks inside and calls to the bartender.

 

"I am here for Mr. Smith. The Bartender nods to the man at the end, The Courier taps his commlink and tips the bartender a hundred credits as he walks over to the contact.

 

"Mr Smith. I am your Courier." He says with a slight smirk.

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Samuel blacked out for several seconds. When he came to, he was still lying face-down on the floor. He struggled to his knees, and felt for his FN FAL. Gone. He swore and looked around, his vision still blurry. Emile was using it. He drew the Benelli shotgun on his back and took up a position beside Emile. He ducked to dodge a hail of bullets that blew apart the glass on the vehicle next to him.

 

Julian fired his weapon at the streak of gunmetal grey he thought he'd taken down. He knew that man's armor, he'd seen it before. He just didn't know where. No shots hit, and he took cover behind a crate, just barely avoiding fire from Samuel.

 

Samuel, not looking sideways, spoke to Emile. "I'm better with my FN FAL, any chance I could get that back?" He asked.

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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

INITIALIZATION...OK

..........

 

ACCOUNT LOGIN REQUIRED.

 

NAME: *********

PASSWORD: *****************

..........

 

ACCOUNT VERIFIED. WELCOME BACK, MR.----

..........

 

ERROR, UNKNOWN FEED CONNECTION FOUND. DIAGNOSE?

 

[Y]/N

..........

 

FEED FOUND. ACCESS RESTRICTED CAMERA FOOTAGE. CAMERA B20192 OF SECTOR *CLASSIFIED*. COUNTER OPTIONS AVAILABLE.

 

LOCK CONNECTION?

 

[Y]/N

..........

 

LOCKING CONNECTION....DONE.

 

CONNECTION LOST.

 

VIEW FOOTAGE?

 

[Y]/N.....

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

The sound of a metal door opening echoed through the small metal interior of the room. Abigail walked into the room with the incredibly loud tapping of her heels against the wooden floor. Abigail always hated this room, as it was reminded her of the monster that works here. Taking a note of the room, Abigail began to look around. The only light was available from a small desk lamp that was set neatly on the corner, lightly illuminating the dark room with an eerie glow. On the desk was papers of certain documentation; medical reports, cybernetic blueprints, and other things. The only sound that came from the small room was the light scratching sound of a pencil writing vigorously. The man sitting at the desk looked deep in thought as only his pencil seemed to go faster with each passing second, with his lightly glowing eyes catching the woman's attention. Abigail walked up to the end of the desk, setting down the small bundle of books she was ordered to bring to the man. Of course, this only made a chill send down her spine as she looked upon the mans face, and almost immeditly turned away. She didn't want to look at the monster of the government.

 

"Will that be all, Dr. Bertrand?" Abigail asked, her voice slightly cracking at her nervousness.

 

"No, thank you Mrs.Evans," Adrian replied with his usual gruff and heavy French accent, also never looking up from his writing.

 

Abigail didn't hesitate from his answer. Quickly turning around she walked out of the room and shutting the door behind her, not saying a word again to him. Adrian stopped his writing and looked up to see the door shut again as Abigail left. He couldn't blame her, really. She-like many others-know about his work. They probably think of him as a monster. A villain who works with no mercy. Again, he couldn't blame them. The stories of what he's done is no secret to him, but he doesn't deny them. Hell, most of the stories are true, though not accurate, which Adrian was thankful for. People probably wouldn't even come close to him if they were on the spot detail. Adrian set down the pencil from his death grip with a light sigh. He knew that in only about an hour he would have to do what everyone was so afraid of. People didn't like him because he did his work with no emotion, mercy, and would do it in a seconds heart beat. No one understands, and he thought that they would never will. Breaking away from his thoughts, Adrian looked down at the paper. He smirked slightly, reading over what was written. This was nothing new to him, it was just something that he has to do each time he visits a patient. He can't do the same thing every time. That would be ineffective to the next patient, and he couldn't have that.

 

The sudden beep from his desk phone jolted him from his reading. Reaching over and pressing a glowing button, the speaker turned on. Adrian was a person who received little to no calls. So, when someone calls, it's usually important. Though, mainly the calls are to fill him in with the new "patients" that he would have. This wasn't the case, however.

 

"Dr.Bertrand. How's the old man doing?" The cherish young man's voice filled the room.

 

Adrian chuckled irritability, knowing already who it was. "What do you want, Chase," He asked quickly, not wanting to continue.

 

"Oh nothing, ju-" He started, but Adrian quickly hung up the phone before he could continue. Adrian didn't have time for these little childish games that Chase always played on him.

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The brilliant light that radiated from the huge chandelier in the foyer of Harriet's mansion reflected from the gold engravings that adorned the walls, creating a heavenly air as the front doors opened out into the darkness, pushing it further away. Either side of the huge wooden doors stood two servants, each dressed in formal attire, greeting Harriet as she exited the private Vehicle she took everywhere. Her heels crunched on the artificial gravel as she made her way to the stone steps, changing to loud clicks as she quickly walked up them. Her pace did not slow as she stepped into the marble foyer, slinging off her coat and tossing it aside, it landing in a heap on the finely polished floor.

 

Harriet made her way up the large staircase, and continued on down the hallways until she reached her study, she pushed open the door and stormed over to her desk. She rummaged around the antique's contents, pulling out the drawers frantically, rummaging around inside them, and pushing them back in, she stopped once she found the piece of card she was looking for, on it written in her handwriting was the name Dr. Adrian Bertrand, and underneath a number.

 

She ran her and over a silver frame that sat in the centre of her desk, and a holographic screen appeared, filing in the frame. On the screen was a hand, of which Harriet touched, it flashed green, and the image changed to an eye, Harriet leant forwards and it scanned her iris, that image too shining green, and next she entered her password and got into her computer. She looked through her directory of names just to make sure the man she was going to have called was in-fact the Cybernetics expert she had heard about. After consulting the list a few times, she was sure that the contact number she had was indeed for the same man she was after, and called up her Butler. She looked at the man as he entered the room and leaned back into the ornate armchair she sat on.

 

"Call the President's secretary and tell him that all of the 'Delicate' matters were handled, and inform him i left the contract on his table, next, call Mrs. Hails and tell her to bring all of the articles of clothing that the various designers made for me, tell her anything pink that isn't a scarf or accessory needs not be sent because i don't like wearing pink, and also tell her that any bright colours are also a no, as i'm not in the mood. Oh, and tell her any heels Two inches or bellow need not be sent, my ankle is completely repaired and i can resume my normal height, Then, tell her that anything with any kind of big puffy skirt is also a no as i'm not a freaking ballerina." Harriet paused, and the butler wrote down everything she had said into his data-pad. Harriet then continued "And phone a Dr. Adrian Bertrand and tell him the Vice President of the treasury would like him to meet her at her home regarding a procedure she would like done. Then get onto the minister of tax and tell him that his team missed the lower west side. That's all." She said, and resumed looking at her screen.

 

The Butler, who's name was Ebert, promptly walked down-stairs and into his own office, and immediately started phoning everyone which Harriet had mentioned in her exact order. After finishing with a rather annoyed Mrs. Hails, he dialled the number of Adrian Bertrand, and awaited for an answer.

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Samuel blacked out for several seconds. When he came to, he was still lying face-down on the floor. He struggled to his knees, and felt for his FN FAL. Gone. He swore and looked around, his vision still blurry. Emile was using it. He drew the Benelli shotgun on his back and took up a position beside Emile. He ducked to dodge a hail of bullets that blew apart the glass on the vehicle next to him.

 

Julian fired his weapon at the streak of gunmetal grey he thought he'd taken down. He knew that man's armor, he'd seen it before. He just didn't know where. No shots hit, and he took cover behind a crate, just barely avoiding fire from Samuel.

 

Samuel, not looking sideways, spoke to Emile. "I'm better with my FN FAL, any chance I could get that back?" He asked.

 

"So you are alive. I was begining to think you'd bit it." Emile thrust the FAL into Samuels hands "Take it. Even I know we're out done. It can't be long until they send more reinforcements, then we'll be trapped." Emile said, throwing a grenade towards some government troops "CATCH!" he shouted, before looking at Sameul "So what's the plan?"

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Ander leaned back in his chair as the monitor sprang to life. His 'superior', the closes thing it could be called, since Ander had no official rank or existence for that matter. Still, this was the person who gave him his orders. In any case, he didn't care for the technicalities. Anyway, his superior began speaking.

 

"You did well in destroying that Recalcitrancy base. It was messy, just like we asked, it made the message clear that we have individuals capable of easily destroying their bases. Payment has been transferred to your account."

 

Ander smiled, "It was my pleasure, sir."

 

"Good, we have more targets. We suspect that some people may be losing faith in our government, they may turn their support to the Recalcitrancy. We want to assure them that siding with us is the right choice, and that the Recalcitrancy is indeed, evil. Your going to be sent to kill a popular scientist researching the memory loss problem. The people want to know more about that, and want a solution, he's close to reaching one, but the Recalcitrancy will stop him. You'll kill him and plant evidence pointing to the Recalcitrancy.

 

Another is a shipment bringing food to the soup kitchens in the slums. You'll disable it and kill the civilians there. We're sending men to assist you in this and help to steal the food, they'll also plant evidence incriminating the Recalcitrancy. The people definitely won't like them killing innocents and stealing from the poor."

 

Ander liked the plan. "I understand, this sounds like it will be fun."

 

"Good, the evidence for killing the scientist will be delivered tomorrow, I'm sending you more written information on the missions."

 

The screen went black for a moment, then a wall of text appeared, Ander began reading smiling widely, anticipating the upcoming mission, but frowned upon reading one part. This was a deep cover mission, he was going to have to have his appearance changed.

Edited by leirynot
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After fifteen constant minutes of trying to raise Safehouse Arthur, Logan gave up and turned to his men. "Listen up people! Arthur isn't responding so we'll be heading back on foot. Thing is though, we'll need to split up. A whole platoon going through the city is a little noticeable. Get your s***, pick your partner and get ready to move in five minutes." Logan bellowed to his team, as he thought of how much he'd love to ring the neck of those Government f*****s who ruined the operation.

Edited by AGhostdogg10
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Each of the six people's faces lit up with a mixture of surprise and grief. They all know of the abilities Alec and his team possessed, and they were also quite familiar with all of the group's exploits. Candice breathed a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

 

"Sparrow's gone? And all of his team too?" Jinx asked incredulously.

 

"Whoever took them out is very good at what they do." Arthur said.

 

"Yeah, well, main command needs to know about this. Now." Candice replied as she headed to the communications room.

 

Arthur and his team stayed behind, hoping there was anything else Lizbeth could divulge. He took a seat at the table and everyone else followed suit.

 

"Well, Miss Lizbeth, it's a privilege to finally see you in person. I just wish it could've been on better terms." Arthur said.

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  • 1 month later...
Lisbeth nodded in silent agreement when Arthur said that whomever committed the mass murder of Alec's safehouse was skilled. Her eyes were focused and unblinking as she stared at her glass of water, still getting over the fact she'd lost so many people in such a short space of time. It reminded her of how fickle her life was, it could be extinguished by a single bullet. She looked around, as if coming out of some trance-like state, as Arthur spoke to her, a small smile formed on her lips, and she sat down opposite him. "You don't need to treat me any better than the rest of your men here. Don't see this as any kind of privilege... i just get the 'cool' jobs so to speak... Well, when i'm not watching my friends die." She said somberly, but quickly snapped out of her morbid state. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, i've heard about the stuff you guys, pretty impressive." She said, addressing the whole team. "Things are getting pretty tight from what i hear, and the bigshots up in parliament are trying to pin a lot of there wrongdoings on us, Still, i try my best to stay out of the political side of this all. I put cold steel into people's heads, and that's as far i want to take it." She said, her light green eyes glinting in the electrical light of the safehouse.
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