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Post by Anna Espinosa on May 18, 2006 18:56:25 GMT -5
Anna snapped her encrypted cell phone closed and slid it back into the bag at her side. She was stretched out on a chase lounge, basking in the Caribbean sun. It was so much nicer being a freelance agent than working under the forceful thumb of the Soviets. She could pick and choose her assignments, handling them as discreetly or as indiscreetly as her employer would allow. Her most recent and frequent employer had been K-Directorate, which was competing strongly with SD-6 to gather information on Rambaldi. Anna was a strong believer in the teachings of Rambaldi and working for K-Directorate gave her much better access to witness Rambaldi's end game.
Arvin Sloane's phone call had been a bit surprising but his request to attack Sydney Bristow really hadn't been. K-Directorate had a mole within SD-6 and word had trickled back to her that there was tension between Sloane and Bristow.
"Sydney Bristow," Anna murmured aloud. She scowled as she thought of the SD-6 agent, whom she had gone head to head with one too many times. Bristow was like an annoying gnat, one that had nearly killed Anna on a handful of occasions. It would be a pleasure to be able to inflict some pain on the other woman.
A tall man wearing linen pants and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt strolled past and Anna watched him carefully over the top of her sunglasses. She watched as he strolled by, waiting a heartbeat before scooping up her bag and the silenced Sig Sauer inside. Her job wouldn't take long; just one bullet to the back of the head, grab the documents he had in his room and Anna would be on her way to New York and Sydney Bristow.
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Post by Kenneth Irons on May 19, 2006 12:34:19 GMT -5
He was deep in a meeting with a Chinese company interested in buying a few pieces he’d acquired from the Song dynasty to complete they’re collection. It was a tense meeting being that on a whole the county regarded the property as theirs and did not believe that the means in which he’d secured the tapestries was honorable. But Irons was not a man of compromise. It was his own underwater excavations that uncovered the veritable cornucopia of items At the time he’d been searching for more answers regarding the Witchblade, but that had been over 2 lifetimes ago, when the world was a different place.
The archeological team found remains of supplies relating to the Quanzhou ship’s provisioning and operations, including faunal remains of possible food animals (bird, fish, goat, pig, and cow) and dogs and rats (eaten, too?) as well as plant remains of food items (coconuts, olives, lychees, peaches, and plums). Portable artifacts included an axe, a wooden ruler, and a bronze ladle -- all useful items for maintaining the ship during its voyages -- and assorted celadon bowls, a stoneware wine jar, Chinese chessmen, glass beads, and other personal items and tableware. But the one thing that Irons had neglected to mention that the team uncovered was something that he suspected might hold a key to one of the most powerful wielder’s the Witchblade; the former Empress of the previous T’ang Dynasty, Wu Zetian.
The interruption by Lady Lara Croft was something he had both expected and anticipated - After all, when it came to matters of the archeological in nature, who better to verify his findings than Britain’s infamous Tomb Raider. Irons made his excuses as his secretary cut in over intercom that she had arrived. Exiting the meeting room Kenneth entered the lobby to his office, walking to Lara as he made his introductions. “Good morning Miss. Croft. I trust you’ve not been waiting long. Please, come into my office so that we might talk more frankly.”
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Lara Croft
Sergeant
You know I can't resist a bit of fun.
Posts: 53
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Post by Lara Croft on May 19, 2006 13:04:12 GMT -5
Her brows furrowed, eyes stared forward watching the secretary go about her business after alerting her boss that he had an unexpected visitor. But Lara had the idea that perhaps, for once she would not go completely unexpected at all. She knew many things of Kenneth Irons, none of it good, and nothing at all within the realm of trust worthy. How her Father had gotten mixed up with the man was beyond her, but perhaps there had been a purpose. It seemed everything that revolved within her world had an underlined purpose… and that alone made her question many things she once held sacred above all else.
All of that however was neither here nor there. Right now all that mattered was getting the details she needed from this quote business man and being on her way. Why, why couldn’t Chase have trusted her? Why did he have to go and play the hero and only wind-up getting himself in more trouble then he could handle, why? A part of the cool demeanored archaeologist blamed herself for it, but the logical part of her knew he was just fool-hardy and glory hungry. Some men just never grow up, they just remain boys forever… like Peter Pan. But how many times was Chase going to fall before he realized he couldn’t fly?
Suddenly the room around her hushed to a low roar… if even that. The energy of the place changed and alerted to an almost ominous presence, looking up and removing herself from her inner thoughts an concerns Lara saw the reason. Here came the man of the hour, his body moving in a manner which no man of his age should be able to do. He reeked of power, strength and no mercy for his enemies. His eyes held vast secrets on top of secrets that would probably die with him in the grave… that is, if he could actually die. Lara wasn’t completely sure about the man’s mortality.
His voice spoke of years of proper up-bringing, the tone itself could sell igloos to Eskimos, “ I do apologize for any inconvenience I might be causing you, but this is a matter of importance,” She looked him straight in the eyes, “ to me.” Or more accurately, she didn’t want the bad karma to come back and bite her in the ass, but deep down she did… sort of care about Chase’s well being and secondly if anyone was going to kill him it was her.
Following the man into his office, Lara did her best to not become enchanted by the various artifacts which decorated it, although some of the paintings unnerved her slightly. Talk about obsession, almost on every wall were obviously commissioned paintings dealing with what she knew was the Witchblade… tearing her eyes from the painting of her friend, Sara Pezzini half naked, Lara got right to business, “ What do you know about the Vajra and it’s various locations?” Her arms folded, her mannerisms all business and no play. It was obvious the woman had little time for idle chit-chat, “ And don’t bother lying to me in any way, I know you helped my Father try to find it once.” With that she tossed a copy of some entries in one of her father’s journals talking about his exploits with the man before her on the desk between them.
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Sydney Bristow
Moderator
CIA Agent
"Write this down. E. M. E. T. I. B. Got it? Now, reverse it."
Posts: 67
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Post by Sydney Bristow on May 20, 2006 22:03:02 GMT -5
Sydney studied the open dossier in her lap, absently twirling a pen between her fingers. Glancing up, she saw that Dixon had his eyes closed, his folded hands resting on the table between them. Syd smiled slightly before glancing over at Marshall, who was engrossed in something on his lap top.
They were her team, her support. She would be solo in the field for most of her long term assignment in New York, but she would always have their voices in her ear, their eyes watching her back at a distance. Syd's smile faded a little around the edges when she thought about the secret she kept from them. Her life was in danger as it was and she didn't want to endanger them. It was bad enough her father was in the same position.
"What's on your mind, Syd?" Dixon asked without opening his eyes.
Sydney shut the dossier and sat back in her seat, stretching her arms over her head. "Nothing. I just feel like my eyes are going to cross if I read much more."
Dixon smiled slowly before opening his eyes. "You stayed up all night and studied that dossier until you memorized it, didn't you?"
Sydney shrugged and took her glasses off, setting them on top of the folder. "It's not like Sloane to dump an assignment like this on us last minute."
"It's nothing we can't handle," Dixon said mildly.
"I'm just...splitting hairs, I guess," Sydney said, waving her hand dismissively.
Dixon glanced at Marshall and leaned forward. "You have every right to hate Arvin Sloane for what he did."
Sydney's expression hardened and she stood up. "I need something to drink. Do you want anything?"
Dixon looked up at her, a startled expression on his face. He opened his mouth and then shut it before shaking his head. "No thank you."
Sydney strode away from him, doing everything in her power to keep the tears burning her eyes from falling. Danny was never far from her mind, nor what Sloane had had done to him. Sometimes, her need for revenge, the drive behind what she did, nearly blotted out all reason. It caught her unaware most times, that a rage as volatile as this, could exist in her right below her stoic facade. Shutting herself into the galley, Sydney leaned over the sink and closed her eyes.
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Post by Kenneth Irons on Jul 17, 2006 2:55:09 GMT -5
"If you referring the variant of the word in Sanskrit meaning thunderbolt or diamond then I'd suggest the local library… or were you leaning toward the tantric tradition regarding the nature of reality, potency and skillful activity?" His brow quirked slightly at this last bit wondering just how the young woman was thinking. Turning aside, Kenneth walked away from her, as he closed in on the bar and fixed himself and her glasses of fifty year old scotch. He placed one down on his desk before her, his manicured digits working without stutter, in a graceful dance of curt but enchanting businessman. After sipping at his glass he continued. "Unless…no you couldn't possibly mean that you fall in for all that nonsense of fantastical tales of an ancient artifact of magnanimous potential?"
He paused, realizing that she was more than serious regarding her inquiry. The tales regarding the infamous Tomb Raider were true. She'd chase anything; legend or tall tale. He was positive that some of her excavations or inquiries were a bust, it was to be expected in the line of work, but he couldn't conceal the clever smirk at the corner of his lips a propos of her question. If she wanted something from him, even if it were a location he was not about to simply hand her the travel guide without something in return. This was not how he amassed more wealth than several small countries. "Say I were to tell you what I know, what then? How would you show your gratitude?"
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Lara Croft
Sergeant
You know I can't resist a bit of fun.
Posts: 53
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Post by Lara Croft on Jul 17, 2006 3:06:14 GMT -5
Lara knew she was walking on thin ice here, but ask her if she honestly cared. Kenneth Irons did not scare her, and he never would. However despite their different views and ways the Tomb Raider had an odd sense of some respect for the man, he had done a lot for her field of purpose. Said respect however was not given out of like, but rather from how she had been raised; you give credit where it is due. Still, Lara would always hold a thick distaste for this man before her… even if she hardly knew him personally, but she knew enough to know they wouldn’t get along much.
She could stand here all day if it came down to it, she could keep her eyes on the business tycoon and not so much as blink and never get bored or tired. Her mind was set, even if a part of her still wanted to argue about the decision to help Chase… he a long with so many other men that littered her life’s road ways would always be a point of argument with herself. But she knew if she did not try to get him out of this hole he had gotten himself into, all she would do is sit at home in the manor and stew about her decision until she gave into going and helping him anyways, this way she was skipping the stewing step. Plus the prospect of seeing familiar faces once more and then kicking the American’s ass once she found him were most promising.
Tempus Fugit Her mind echoed annoyingly at her, a fact she was quite aware of. Time was indeed flying and each second was one closer to the possible end of Chase Carver. If Irons proved to be of no help, or not much help she had two more options, well, actually one. She’d have to take down the mob… something she has done before, but the Chicago mafia had proven a little to easy, the Italian mafia however… would probably prove to be like roaches, or so she had heard through a fairly creditable source, a one Detective Sara Pezzini. In thinking of her mystic weapon wielding friend, Lara wondered if she’d have time to stop by and say hello… or perhaps it would just be best to call.
Or wait, she would need the Detective’s assistance after all, once she was done with Irons, Lara wanted to know of the mafia’s various locations within New York City just incase she had to deal with them on a personal level. Of course as most mobs go, the Brit wondered if they were mildly aware of the fact she was involved already… because surely they were smart enough to have someone watching Chase’s every move and they would know if he spoke to anyone, it would make little sense if they didn’t, and Chase had never been one to be quiet or unobvious. Oh well, it would prove fun to watch yet another questionable organization crumble in her capable hands.
Slowly a feminine brow rose as the white haired man began to speak, such a truly arrogant bastard indeed. Her eyes traveled to the scotch before her and despite her reservations she took a good drink of it and calmly placed the glass back on his desk. Lara Croft acting in a truly calm manner is never a good thing, “You know exactly what I am referring to Mr. Irons.” She said his name with a particularly nasty clip to it, a part of her seemed to have been almost hoping that all the bad she had heard of him wasn’t completely true, it was indeed stone hard fact and she was not amused by his desire to control the situation.
“There is no ruddy way in hell that I’m going to hand over such a powerful artifact to you, so don’t bother asking for that.” Picking up the glass, the woman eyed it’s contents and then downed it, “Name your price, if it’s reasonable I’ll agree, if I don’t like it I will still get what I need one way or another, but don’t be all day about it, as I said I have a purpose that is in need of my assistance and if you won’t help me then I’ll have to use option B. And no one will like option B.” Her stare met his, her green and brown irises making it clear this was no idle threat, but then she smirked, “ Well, I’m sort of fond of option B because it allows me a little more fun, but considering time is a factor here option A is truly my best bet.”
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Sydney Bristow
Moderator
CIA Agent
"Write this down. E. M. E. T. I. B. Got it? Now, reverse it."
Posts: 67
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Post by Sydney Bristow on Jul 17, 2006 21:01:38 GMT -5
Sydney was jostled by a man and she glared at him over her shoulder as she re-adjusted her hold on her iPod. Welcome to New York, she thought sourly as she waited for the light at Central Park to change. The SD-6 safe house where she had set up shop was only two blocks away. Marshall and Dixon were at another safe house two more blocks down- close enough to get to her quickly but not close enough to arouse suspicion.
Once in the park, Sydney forgot about her jet lag and general crankiness at being up so early. In L.A. she always got up early with Francie for a run, but everything had been so out of whack for her lately. Putting a foot up on a bench, she tightened the laces on her sneaker before plugging in her headphones and stretching.
Setting off at a steady pace, Sydney soon lost herself in the rhythm of her sneakers hitting the pavement and the rock music blasting in her headphones. She had made a four mile circuit before stopping at a secluded bend in the trail. Taking off her headphones, she stretched, aware of her T-shirt sticking to her back with sweat. The exercise felt good on her tired muscles and she found herself smiling for the first time in weeks.
"Gimme the iPod and whatever money you got," a voice hissed in her ear. She felt the unmistakable shape of a pistol barrel being pressed into her side and she froze, hazel eyes narrowing.
"If you walk away right now, I won't hurt you," she said softly.
The man laughed, a low, throaty chuckle. "Bitch, are you brain damaged or something?"
Syd pivoted and saw the shock cross his face an instant before she slammed the heel of her hand into his nose. She followed up with a fast groin shot that doubled him over. Grabbing the back of his head, she drove her knee upward and pushed him over. He landed in an immobile heap and she stood over him, hands on her hips.
"I'm just really not in a good mood this morning," she muttered, bending to retrieve his gun.
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Post by Sara Pezzini on Jul 25, 2006 3:03:25 GMT -5
Sara leaned against the wall of the bar, smiling at the way her new partner handled himself at the billiard's table. He still had a lot to learn around her, but he was coming along well for a guy his age. She was no fool; she'd seen the way his eyes wandered and the thoughts behind them. It was flattering to think that a guy as handsome as Jake saw beyond the badge to the woman. The professional suit of Detective had been shed from the moment they had come back from the bust, but here in the tavern it was even more noticeable. A natural ease had come over her face and form, lending the conversation toward their shared love of pop culture and the inner workings of gossip about the office. She was just starting to counter his question regarding the Star Wars trilogy and the "Han shot first" foul up in the revamped release when she stopped and stared like a deer in headlights at the figure that walked inside.
Jackie Estacado. To her that meant something more. He was the Darkness. - The natural counterpart to the Witchblade. As if on cue the watch-like bracelet on her wrist tightened a little. It was night, a time when the two of them could level the city if a quarrel were to break out. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" She leaned her cue against the rack and crossed the room. If there was one thing she knew about the Mafia hitman it was that he was direct. And if he was looking for a fight or a piece of Intel it would be mutually beneficial if she just dealt with him head on. "Jack, I'd like to say it's nice to see you, but lies do not become me. Something I can help you with?"
Arms folded across the white linen of her button-down blouse, weight shifted the soft leather of her pants creaking subtly as her head tilted to one side. Placating to the womanizing man-whore was not what Sara had in mind, but with Jackie it was always easier to play on her feminine wiles, even if it did sting like salt in a wound. "You wouldn't be here because of that rinky-dink little bust that went down tonight so what gives? – Did you pick the short straw tonight? Uncle Frankie must really think highly of me if he sent his key enforcer out here on such a trivial little task. – Oh have I struck a nerve?" Sara couldn't help but smile. The minute nipping at each other's heel was something of a standard between them.
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Chase Carver
Rookie
Run, run away...live to love another day.
Posts: 18
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Post by Chase Carver on Jul 25, 2006 5:53:05 GMT -5
It was freezing inside the refridgerated compartment and it seemed as though Chase was going to have a chance to use this to his advantage. The two stoogies left to gaurd him only lasted about ten minutes before they retreated to the outside. That gave him the perfect chance to attempt to free himself. He was no escape artist but he didn't expect them to be running in here anytime soon.
Twenty minutes later he had lossened the grip that the rope had on his wrists and the bind fell to the floor leaving his hands free to untie his legs. He stood to his feet and slowly moved around the area searching for something to use as a weapon. The darkness didn't help but the wasn't much around there but large slabs of meat anyway. It looks like he was going to have to be a bit clever with this and hope that the two goons valued his life as much as he did. A corpse couldn't pay his debts afterall.
He moved through the darkness and found the door getting as close as possible trying to hear anything on the other side. He couldn't hear a thing over the generator pumping the frigid air into the room to his discontent. Rubbing his hands against his body to generate some warmth he tried to think of a plan A, B or anything. Somehow he needed to get his guards to get come in here to check on him. Manuevering behind a hanging slab of beef he braced himself against the wall and picked up his feet pushing hard against it. The meat slid across the room and slammed into the door. He then moved into position hiding near the entrance.
It didn't take long for the goons to open the door and enter guns drawn. Lucky for him Frankie left the brawn with little brains as he easily slid past them and outside while they examined the room. It wouldn't be too long before they came after him so an escape would be nice. He needed to do it quickly as whomever Frankie was sending to "acompany" him on his search for the artifact wouldn't be too long now. Or atleast that was his thought as he moved through the maze of warehouse buildings. He could hear the two goons communicating but it wasn't clear from what direction they were coming from. With nothing to defend himself with and no idea where he was except for the numbers on the buildings he was screwed.
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Jackie Estacado
Rookie
"Looks like me and my darkness is stronger than you and your light."
Posts: 12
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Post by Jackie Estacado on Jul 25, 2006 6:02:02 GMT -5
Jackie wasn't in a very good mood as his car flowed along the semi-lit NY streets. Uncle Frankie had assigned him to some babysitting job for a guy that owed him money. Chase Carver was the man's name but that was the least of his concerns. What the hell could be so important that he would have to escort this man out of the country. He would of been more comfortable being asked to kill the mayor, in broad daylight with a paintball gun. Whatever the deal was it could wait he thought as he knew of a bar that was on the way. Right now he could definately use another drink as the buzz from earlier was long since gone.
"The boss is feeling down, maybe we should try and cheer him up." A miniture darkling spoke out from the shadows of the back seat. "Yeah, I say we say screw the fat man and go have some fun. How about it boss?" another replied.
Jackie remained silent and continued driving. He was still attempting to master the Darkness but he wondered if it was all in vain. Could it be controlled or was it simply trying to control him. Either way it meant more work for him. When he was feeling down his usual pasttime would be terrorizing the drunk homeless around the city. The "darklings" interaction was always good to lift his spirits but tonight he would pass. A couple of drinks and he would pick up the stunt man and maybe they could get this job done in a few days.
Stopping outside of a small bar called the Whiskey Tango he pulled his car into the free space and stepped out pressing the button to trigger his automatic car door locks. He moved to the door and made his way inside not bothering to scope out anything else but the bar. This wasn't his usual place and he was a bit overdressed but the last thing he needed was to get comfortable and minutes end up turning into hours. It was also the reason why he had decided to not just move about the city as the Darkness. Dawn always seemed to come too quick while he enjoyed the night and the power it gave him. Taking a seat at the bar he ushered to the bartender. "Whiskey sour..." It was then that his brow raised as he sensed a familar presence.
Normally he would be on his guard but instead a smile formed on his lips as the voice confirmed his suspicions. "Jack, I'd like to say it's nice to see you, but lies do not become me. Something I can help you with?" "It's always a pleasure, Sara... If I knew you and the pigs hung out here me and the boys would have visited by now." his smile widened as the back and forth banter was only the tip of the iceberg in thier unique relationship. He was the Darkness and a mob hitman, she was the Witchblade weilder and a NYPD detective. Everything about them screamed mortal enemies. And yet they were mostly civil around each other and had been allies on numerous occaisions. She was still the enemy and he knew that she wouldn't break a sweat in taking him down, if she had any evidence to support her.
"You wouldn't be here because of that rinky-dink little bust that went down tonight so what gives? – Did you pick the short straw tonight? Uncle Frankie must really think highly of me if he sent his key enforcer out here on such a trivial little task. – Oh have I struck a nerve?"
He chuckled as the bartender placed his drink down in front of him and leaned a bit close so that he didn't have to speak but in a whisper. "Striking a nerve would be me tearing this place apart and leaving you to clean up the bloody mess." He peaked over her shoulder eyeing the man at the billiards table who hadn't taken his eyes off the two since Sara approached him. "New boyfriend? You sneaking around on me, Sara? You two timing, whore. Oh wait, no... let me guess. Hanging out at a bar after a bust... Your partner. Me and him should have a night out on the town one of these days. I'm sure the boys would love the extra company."
He knew what buttons to push with her and he knew that she would only go but so far when pushing his. That was her weakness one that he had no problem in exploiting. Taking down his drink in one swallow he sat it down and stood to his feet placing a fifty on the bar table. "You and the partner have a few drinks on me. I'll be leaving town for awhile but we can catch up when I get back. Don't miss me too much, Pezzini." He made his way to the exit and gave a wave to the man at the billiards table before exiting. Ironically he was feeling much better now.
The drive to the warehouse district took less than twenty minutes and when he pulled up two of Frankie's men were waiting. "Where is Carver?" he asked calmly. The men were reluctant to answer but finally one spoke up. "Uh...Umm...he got away from us." Jackie shook his head in disbelief. "F-ing idiots... Leave...NOW!" The two men paused wondering if to ask if he wanted thier help but quickly decided against it and moved to thier cars driving off. Once they were gone he placed his attention at the maze of buildings ahead of him. "Looks like you get to have some fun after all, boys. Unhurt if you don't mind." A small army of darklings emerged from the shadows surrounding the area. How can you hide when the darkness is everywhere. It wouldn't be long before they found him.
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Post by Kenneth Irons on Jul 25, 2006 10:43:10 GMT -5
A bored expression passed over Ken's features. Dichotomously ashen, yet piercing eyes rolled skyward, mocking the woman's assumption. "Trifles like that, although fascinating, are not nearly as desirable to me as is the erudition of why they are to you. I'm sure that you've passed through enough social circles to understand that I much prefer dealing in sophistication and knowledge." His calculating eyes watched as she pounded the glass of fifty year old scotch and it was hard for him not to wince and offer a lecture regarding table manners. "Then again, I suppose you may have not," he commented, more in reaction to her lack of respect for the expensive beverage. Kenneth sat in his chair, lifting the glass of scotch to his lips as he savored another swallow of amber liquor.
“Name your price, if it’s reasonable I’ll agree, if I don’t like it I will still get what I need one way or another, but don’t be all day about it, as I said I have a purpose that is in need of my assistance and if you won’t help me then I’ll have to use option B. And no one will like option B …Well, I’m sort of fond of option B because it allows me a little more fun, but considering time is a factor here option A is truly my best bet.” "Have we really gone from polite conversation to catty threats and industrious fathoms onto the variety?" An eyebrow quirked skyward wrinkling his forehead as he shook his cranium a little in disbelief at how abruptly she reverted toward such a childish tantrum. "Your father always did coddle you Lara." Irons' English accent was dissimilar to the Tomb Raider's. Where she had hints of Buckinghamshire, it was also smattered with the relentless patter of "East End" flavor. Kenneth spoke with "received pronunciation" or Oxford English.
The megalomaniac businessman set his glass down heavily and got up, planting both of his hands onto the mahogany desk as he leaned forward. His eyes never wavered and other than the curtness of his words, Irons was very accommodating. "I'm sure that if you hold your breath long enough you'll find your wayward little Carver. You were brought up amid the bright and illustrious now lets see if you can't manage those wiles on someone a bit more malleable." He paused, lips pursing as he gave her his dismissal. "I hear the Franchetti syndicate gives good Chase now and again. But if you find yourself truly in dire straights and with a modicum of etiquette, you're welcome to return and ask, rather than threaten, your way into my good graces. Good day Miss Croft."
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Lara Croft
Sergeant
You know I can't resist a bit of fun.
Posts: 53
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Post by Lara Croft on Jul 25, 2006 16:43:57 GMT -5
She gauged his expression and promptly frowned… she was boring him? Asshole indeed, more like pompous. He was no better then she was, not at all if not lower because of his questionable methods. Holding her tongue, Lara kept her stare steady and even, only her frowning lips spoke of her displeasure in this first encounter and undoubtedly not the last with Kenneth Irons.
She wanted to laugh at him and slap him all in the same breath for his smugness and god like imagery of himself, well and most of the known business world viewed him as such as well. Lara saw him only in one light, one shrouded in pure evil. He made her skin crawl and not in ways he obviously seemed to want either. She placed him right up there with the likes of Manfred Powell and Jonathan Reiss, a powerful man who used his power for the wrong things. Despite her growing want to laugh at the man, Lara did let herself smile, “I don’t make threats Mr. Irons.” Her tone was even, her eyes not wavering from his as she kept that rather devious grin on her full pout… but then the smile faded, “No. He lied to me… about a great many things.” The longer she remained in this man’s company the less and less she liked him, “Don’t speak about what you have little to no knowledge at all about.” Her words were cold, angry and even dark in nature.
As he rose from his chair, Lara kept her gaze locked with his, he didn’t frighten her, men like him never would all they did was make her stomach churn in uncomfortable ways. Her face remained motionless as he spoke, both trying to intimidate her and persuade her to look at him in a much different light. Slowly she rose as well, her arms folding, an unamused and rather unimpressed smile crossing her features, “A misguided but good hearted man is more malleable then a well guided man with an evil heart.” She turned to leave, but paused and turned back, “I thank you for what help you have given me, and I would like to say this little meeting was a pleasure…” She placed a hand on the doorknob to his office, “but it hasn’t.” With that she slipped out of the business tycoon’s office and headed for the elevator.
Once out of the elevator and out of the building, Lara approached her jeep and slipped inside hoping that Chase still had his cell phone so she could track him via GPS and keep him from swimming with the fishies. Turning the vehicle on, the Tomb Raider fooled a moment with the GPS navigation system it possessed and locked Chase’s cell phone number in for the address, smiling the Brit headed off following the blinking dot on the screen as she dialed a number she hadn’t in a very, very long time and waited for an answer, “ Sara. Long time no see, but we can play catch up later, right now luv I need you to tell me everything you can about the Franchetti syndicate. It’s a matter of life and death.”
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Sydney Bristow
Moderator
CIA Agent
"Write this down. E. M. E. T. I. B. Got it? Now, reverse it."
Posts: 67
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Post by Sydney Bristow on Jul 30, 2006 13:28:27 GMT -5
Sydney wiped steam from the mirror and studied her reflection. Her dark hair was held back back from a tired, pale face by a head band and she grimaced at what she saw. Quite simply, she looked like hell, totally opposite from the fresh faced archeology graduate student she was supposed to be posing as. Sighing, she began to apply her make-up. Once she finished covering up the dark circles under her eyes as best as she could, she dressed conservatively in a black pants suit with a pale blue blouse. Pulling out the head band, she let her auburn hair fall loosely around her shoulders, running her fingers through it to obtain a desirable look.
The next step was to add the stylish, dark framed glasses Marshall had outfitted with a microphone and a tiny camera. He could see and hear everything she could. The signal from the glasses was boosted by the antennae hidden in a small silver Celtic knot pin affixed to the lapel of her suit jacket. Marshall had loaded her up with assorted other goodies, including a jump drive concealed in a key chain, a small explosive charge in a Cross pen and a nail file that doubled as a lock pick. The Master Card in her wallet under her alias was a demagnetizer, designed to dismantle any magnetic locks.
There were, of course, other gadgets, but they were hidden in her apartment. The only weapon Syd carried was a small, carbon blade combat knife sheathed to her ankle and well concealed by her pants leg. Not too bad for her first day of work as an assistant to a museum curator.
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Chase Carver
Rookie
Run, run away...live to love another day.
Posts: 18
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Post by Chase Carver on Aug 2, 2006 1:52:09 GMT -5
The area was like a labrinth every turn looked the same as the last, every door that looked to be a path to salvation was locked. He was screwed to the Nth power. If only he hadnt borrowed that money from Frankie in the first place he would'nt have been in this predicament. Then again he had always been a gambling man and this time was no different. How was he to know that his luck would make a turn for the worse. Now he had agreed to find the man a treasure that he wasnt completely sure existed. And even if it did death might have been the better option that actually searching for it. He slapped himself, What the hell was he thinking. That completely went against his motto. He was obviously tired and frustrated, two things that he hated to be.
He wasn't sure if the two members of the goonsquad were still after him or not but he really didn't want to stay around to find out. He continued moveing although the more he moved forward it seemed the deeper he went. There was no sign of an exit in sight and even if he did find an exit there was still the outstanding debt that he owed Uncle Frankie. There was no way he would let him get out of the city alive. ~The stunt man is over here...~ He heard a voice that seemed to come from the shadows around him. ~Stunt man, like the Fall Guy~ "Who is there?" he asked startled as the voices seemed all around him. ~The boss should just let us eat him.~ He picked up a pipe that he noticed on the floor and held it close to him. ~I hear stunt men taste like chicken.~ Chase took off running but the voices seemed to be following him. ~Mmmn, chicken... dark meat please.~
Maybe he was hallucinating he thought as he continued to move the voices moving along with him. ~You shouldn't run from the boss, he doesn't like exercise much~ Chase moved placeing his back against a stack of crates when another spoke. ~You think you can get me in the movies...~ Chase almost jumped out of his shoes as he turned noticeing the gremlin like creature above him and instinctively began to swing at him with the pipe. ~Hey... Stop... the violence... Cant we...all...just..get along...~ The darkling finally fell to the ground limp and Chase looked over the lifeless body. "What the..." ~OMG...he killed Kenny!~ ~You bastard~ He really must of been hallucinating because now he was surrounded by a dozen of the creatures. Suddenly a voice spoke from behind him. [shadow=green,left,300]"Put the pipe down, Chase. I'm already in a bad mood as it is."[/shadow] He turned to swing the pipe at the voice but it was caught by a hand and then he was struck and blacked out.
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