21:37:15 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Fall Inn, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Marquis waves down the waitress, hands her a credstick to pay for the drinks. The following silence makes him a little nervous, so he picks his glass of half melted ice, slightly discolored by the remaining cola. Taking a sip, he pulls in a piece of ice to chew on.
Full Version: Living in the Shadows: IC
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13:51:37 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Outside Zina’s Hair and Nails Beauty Parlor, Renton, UCAS
Ludmilla simply stood near the doorway, cradling her cigarette as if it was the very last source of heat she’d ever have close to her. Usually, the cold didn’t really bother her. It was, in a strange way, rather reassuring. Reminded her of home. Heavy winters were something rather odd in Seattle, and since she had arrived, it definitely had been the worst. Lana’s school had canceled classes for a few days… which had turned her daughter into a true couch potato. Fortunalty enough, classes had started again this very morning. Well, Lana sure didn't see it as a fortunate thing.
She couldn’t really blame her… there wasn’t much to do in such a weather. The roads were dangerous, and even thought Ludi had learned to drive on ice at an earlier age; the other drivers were what scarred her the most.
Taking another long drag on her cigarette, she started hitting the wall with her heavy combat boot. Everything was covered with brown and sticky slush. Zina kept complaining that after every break, Ludmilla dragged more inside. It’s not like she had a choice… the god damn thing was everywhere. Even her brand new Mercury Comet looked like a bag of mud.
The last few weeks had been rather short on work. To put food on the table, Ludmilla had taken a few more hours at Zina’s shop. She always worked there during the week, simply to help her aunt around. But now… she also did it for the money.
When the cigarette finally died out, the woman flung it toward the curb. It was time to go back to work.
13:54:18 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Zina’s Hair and Nails Beauty Parlor, Renton, UCAS
Like most days, this one was a slow one. Zina’s beauty salon had only three employee on pay roll: Zina, Varya and Ludi. Varya, being her usually fragile self, had simply called in sick ever since the snowstorm had hit. Truth was, she was probably afraid to poke her nose out. Either that, or she was nurturing some very heavy hang over.
“Any calls?” said Ludmilla in her mother tongue, as she took her jacket off.
At the back of the room, behind a small white table, Zina simply grunted some sort of answer. Probably a "no".
With a heavy sigh, the young woman dragged her heavy boots along the tilled floor. With every step she took, they made a loud menacing “thud” sound. She dropped herself in her station’s swiveling chair.
“You know, you could at least advertise from time to time.”
Zina didn’t even lift her head from the magazine she was reading: a true master of conversation.
For a few seconds, she contemplated her reflection in the mirror, quietly wondering if she should cut her hair even shorter than it was. Ludmilla, swiveling in her chair, locked her eyes on the single large window that covered most of the storefront.
Talk about a quiet boring day…. Should’ve brought a deck of cards…
Ludmilla simply stood near the doorway, cradling her cigarette as if it was the very last source of heat she’d ever have close to her. Usually, the cold didn’t really bother her. It was, in a strange way, rather reassuring. Reminded her of home. Heavy winters were something rather odd in Seattle, and since she had arrived, it definitely had been the worst. Lana’s school had canceled classes for a few days… which had turned her daughter into a true couch potato. Fortunalty enough, classes had started again this very morning. Well, Lana sure didn't see it as a fortunate thing.
She couldn’t really blame her… there wasn’t much to do in such a weather. The roads were dangerous, and even thought Ludi had learned to drive on ice at an earlier age; the other drivers were what scarred her the most.
Taking another long drag on her cigarette, she started hitting the wall with her heavy combat boot. Everything was covered with brown and sticky slush. Zina kept complaining that after every break, Ludmilla dragged more inside. It’s not like she had a choice… the god damn thing was everywhere. Even her brand new Mercury Comet looked like a bag of mud.
The last few weeks had been rather short on work. To put food on the table, Ludmilla had taken a few more hours at Zina’s shop. She always worked there during the week, simply to help her aunt around. But now… she also did it for the money.
When the cigarette finally died out, the woman flung it toward the curb. It was time to go back to work.
13:54:18 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Zina’s Hair and Nails Beauty Parlor, Renton, UCAS
Like most days, this one was a slow one. Zina’s beauty salon had only three employee on pay roll: Zina, Varya and Ludi. Varya, being her usually fragile self, had simply called in sick ever since the snowstorm had hit. Truth was, she was probably afraid to poke her nose out. Either that, or she was nurturing some very heavy hang over.
“Any calls?” said Ludmilla in her mother tongue, as she took her jacket off.
At the back of the room, behind a small white table, Zina simply grunted some sort of answer. Probably a "no".
With a heavy sigh, the young woman dragged her heavy boots along the tilled floor. With every step she took, they made a loud menacing “thud” sound. She dropped herself in her station’s swiveling chair.
“You know, you could at least advertise from time to time.”
Zina didn’t even lift her head from the magazine she was reading: a true master of conversation.
For a few seconds, she contemplated her reflection in the mirror, quietly wondering if she should cut her hair even shorter than it was. Ludmilla, swiveling in her chair, locked her eyes on the single large window that covered most of the storefront.
Talk about a quiet boring day…. Should’ve brought a deck of cards…
13:57:19 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Zina’s Hair and Nails Beauty Parlor, Renton
Ludmilla spent a few minutes swiveling in her chair, trying to decide what to do next. It was too soon for another smoke break. She could try to engage her aunt in a conversation, but even if successful all that usually lead to was another opportunity for Zina to tell her what she was doing wrong with her life. Not a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. Normally cleaning would be an option, but with the weather the salon had been so slow that Ludi had already swept the floor twice. Maybe I'll have another smoke after all...
The trim Russian woman's heavy combat boots had barely met the tile floor when the door-chime sounded announcing a customer. A quick look towards the entrance showed only Mrs. Grondelski, a regular customer of Zina's. Though the old Pole was nice enough, none of the older ladies ever sat in Ludi's chair. Her aunt told her that it was because she dressed like a man, and maybe the old lady was right, but she didn't care. It was practical and comfortable. Besides, the younger girls in the neighborhood didn't have a problem with her looks.
Ludi stood from her chair. "Hello, Mrs. Grondelski."
"Ludmilla!" Zina snapped in Russian, coming around the counter. "Take Mrs. Grondelski's coat and mind the desk while I take care of her."
Ludi did so, shaking her head at the way her aunt's manner changed around customers. Whispering and giggling as she led the old Polish woman towards her station, one would think them teenagers. She hung the coat on one of the hooks by the door, then walked over and flopped down behind the desk.
14:11:46 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Zina’s Hair and Nails Beauty Parlor, Renton
Ludmilla, elbows on the counter and chin in hand, watched her aunt work on Mrs. Grondelski's hair with growing impatience. How long could it take? The woman got the same style and cut every week! If they didn't finish soon, she was going to take a cigarette break anyway, even if that meant that the counter wasn't manned. Zina could complain all she wanted...she would anyway.
She'd just dug her cigarettes out of her cargo pants when her pocket secretary began to play music. She didn't recognize the tune, so it took her a second to realize that it meant she had an incoming call. As she quickly fumbled through her coat looking for the device, she realized that she had heard the music before. It was some popular song that Lana liked..and she'd let the girl play with the p-sec last night. My clever girl! I bet she figured out how to set that all by herself!
Ludi's smile vanished, her lips twisting in distaste, as she noted the number of the incoming call. Ugh. Sascha. If he didn't work for Miki...Oh, well. Maybe it means some work.
Ludmilla spent a few minutes swiveling in her chair, trying to decide what to do next. It was too soon for another smoke break. She could try to engage her aunt in a conversation, but even if successful all that usually lead to was another opportunity for Zina to tell her what she was doing wrong with her life. Not a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. Normally cleaning would be an option, but with the weather the salon had been so slow that Ludi had already swept the floor twice. Maybe I'll have another smoke after all...
The trim Russian woman's heavy combat boots had barely met the tile floor when the door-chime sounded announcing a customer. A quick look towards the entrance showed only Mrs. Grondelski, a regular customer of Zina's. Though the old Pole was nice enough, none of the older ladies ever sat in Ludi's chair. Her aunt told her that it was because she dressed like a man, and maybe the old lady was right, but she didn't care. It was practical and comfortable. Besides, the younger girls in the neighborhood didn't have a problem with her looks.
Ludi stood from her chair. "Hello, Mrs. Grondelski."
"Ludmilla!" Zina snapped in Russian, coming around the counter. "Take Mrs. Grondelski's coat and mind the desk while I take care of her."
Ludi did so, shaking her head at the way her aunt's manner changed around customers. Whispering and giggling as she led the old Polish woman towards her station, one would think them teenagers. She hung the coat on one of the hooks by the door, then walked over and flopped down behind the desk.
14:11:46 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Zina’s Hair and Nails Beauty Parlor, Renton
Ludmilla, elbows on the counter and chin in hand, watched her aunt work on Mrs. Grondelski's hair with growing impatience. How long could it take? The woman got the same style and cut every week! If they didn't finish soon, she was going to take a cigarette break anyway, even if that meant that the counter wasn't manned. Zina could complain all she wanted...she would anyway.
She'd just dug her cigarettes out of her cargo pants when her pocket secretary began to play music. She didn't recognize the tune, so it took her a second to realize that it meant she had an incoming call. As she quickly fumbled through her coat looking for the device, she realized that she had heard the music before. It was some popular song that Lana liked..and she'd let the girl play with the p-sec last night. My clever girl! I bet she figured out how to set that all by herself!
Ludi's smile vanished, her lips twisting in distaste, as she noted the number of the incoming call. Ugh. Sascha. If he didn't work for Miki...Oh, well. Maybe it means some work.
14:12: 55 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Zina’s Hair and Nails Beauty Parlor, Renton
As the pop tune echoed on in the small room, Ludmilla couldn’t do anything but stare at the phone. The day was already horrible… and now Sascha was calling. From bad, to worst. As her eyes went from the psec to her aunt, a few feet away, she noted a hint of exasperation on her face.
Even to this day, it amazed Ludi how someone could express two distinct emotions on their face: she was still gossiping and smiling at Mrs. Grondelski through the mirror, and yet, her eyes were sending a clear message to her niece. Her boots squeaked a few steps and she was in the family establishment’s tiny bathroom.
Take it easy… just be polite…
The happy chime of the tune was finally silenced.
“Shto?” she answered; surprising even herself of how nonchalant her voice sounded.
“What took you so long, woman? Filling your nails?”
Sascha; you’re a drek head.
Ludmilla took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper under control.
“Just… what do you want?”
“I still don’t know why it has to be you” he spat back at her in a disappointed tone “get that ass of yours to the bakery for 16. Try not to be late.”
“Go f…” Ludmila started to mumble under her breath, but fortunately for her, the line was cut before she could finish her statement.
A quick look to her watch; she had about an hour and a half to get there. Biting her lower lip, she started running numbers in her head…. No…. She probably wouldn’t be able to make it in time to pick up Lana from school. A feeling of guilt and shame started creeping up her throat, squeezing it. She made an effort to swallow.
I have to do this.
There was simply no way around it.
In an attempt to calm herself back down, she ran a hand thru her short black hair. It was a nervous tick, like biting her lower lip… but it always seemed to brush some of the anxiety away. After a few seconds of thinking, she dialled Varya’s number.
Not surprisingly, the voicemail picked up. This time around, Ludmilla’s words didn’t flow as easily off her tongue. English… No matter how much she spoke it, her mind simply couldn’t get around it. She rolled her Rs like a Russian villain from a bad action movie.
“Varya, it is me. I know you are there…. Pick up… Varya… I swear, Zina did not ask me to call you… I need service from you. If you could please pick up Lana at school. She finish at 14:30 and I not” she sighed heavily and started her statement again “and I do not think I can make it. Just drop her home… I do not like her walking in this weather. Well, Dobre den Varya. Schastliva.”
She hung up. Her mouth felt dry, as if it was filled with cotton.
Coming out of the bathroom, she dropped the psec back into one of the numerous pockets of her baggy pants. Back in the salon’s main room, Ludi quickly noticed that Mrs. Grondelski was gone… and Zina stood by her station, fists on her waist.
“I’ve told you before, I don’t like it when you leave that thing turned on at work. I don’t care if you have other things to do, but when you are here, you work here. You can’t just go thru life doing as you please, Ludi.”
“I’m sorry aunt, it slipped my mind.”
“Well, don’t let it happen again”
“Or what? You’ll fire me?” she said with a smirk.
As she spoke, Ludmilla had taken her pack of cigarette out and was now hitting it agaisnt her left had, trying to dislodge one. She could feel her aunt starting to turn red. The only thing missing was smoke coming out of her ears.
“Come on Zina, don’t give me a hard time because it’s a slow day” she pulled a cigarette from the pack with her lips
“It was that stinking hoodlum, wasn’t it!”
“Well, even if it isn’t of your business… no it wasn't Miki.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Here we go again!
Ludi knew exactly where the conversation was going to go… the same place it always went. Zina would remind her of her responsibilities as a mother, and would then go on in great details about how her soul would burn in hell for her sins. If only she knew what else she had done… Adultery was probably the worst infraction on her heavenly rap sheet. Shutting out her aunt’s rhetoric, the young woman simply lit her cigarette inside the beauty parlour. When the cheap plastic lighter’s flame clicked on, Zina stopped dead in her tracks, petrified by her niece's insolence.
“I’ve told you not to sm…”
“Enough!”
Ludmilla snapped. Her right fist came down crashing on the desk. Zina, caught by surprised, jerked backward, fear in her eyes. Ludi’s breathing was heavy and slow; like a beast about to charge. She closed her eyes, threw her head back and pulled a long drag on the cigarette. As she spoke, it dangled from the corner of her mouth.
“I’m going now. I’ll see you tonight.”
Without adding another word, she grabbed her coat and walked out the door. She had to change, and pick some things up.
From bad… to worst.
15:42: 11 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Outside “The Bakery”, Renton
Ludi sat in her car, just across the street from the Russian Bakery. She had been there numerous times… and twice she had actually bought some pastries. They weren’t bad… but then again, they weren’t especially good either. Fresh bread wasn’t really the establishment’s speciality. As she blew on her hands, rubbing them to keep them warm, her eyes were fixated on the storefront. There was always the small possibility of an ambush…
What if they know about us… What if they found out and think that I’m dangerous…
She pushed the thought aside. Even if they did find out, they wouldn’t do a thing about it. Mikhail had her back. At least, that’s what she told herself every day.
What if I’m just another of his flings… What if I’m just another girl….
Leaning forward, her hand went under her jacket, un-holstering a Colt L36. In a movement that seemed almost mechanical, she ejected the clip, made sure it was full, and chambered a round. At 15:55, she’d get out of the car, jog across the street, and push the door open.
As she watched the minutes tick by, her thoughts went back to her altercation with Zina. It happened way to often… Ludi didn’t like admitting it, but she was very like her aunt. Both women had fiery temper… and the ego that went with it. The incident would be soon forgotten, but no one would ever apologize for it.
Oh God! What if this is one of Miki’s surprise dinner out!
Ludi started cursing at herself. She hadn’t brought any change of clothes… not that she liked dressing up. She rarely did. Seeing her in a dress was a once in a life time occasion. Looking down at herself, the young woman started feeling strangely self-conscious about her look. She was still wearing her faithful heavy combat boots. She had beige baggy pants, full of pockets and zippers, and a dark green hooded sweater. Everything in her attire was practical, and that’s how she liked it.
Nonsense. These clothes are fine.
A few more minutes and she would know what Sascha’s call was about. She glanced at the dashboard of the sedan, double checking the time.
Just enough for another smoke.
As the pop tune echoed on in the small room, Ludmilla couldn’t do anything but stare at the phone. The day was already horrible… and now Sascha was calling. From bad, to worst. As her eyes went from the psec to her aunt, a few feet away, she noted a hint of exasperation on her face.
Even to this day, it amazed Ludi how someone could express two distinct emotions on their face: she was still gossiping and smiling at Mrs. Grondelski through the mirror, and yet, her eyes were sending a clear message to her niece. Her boots squeaked a few steps and she was in the family establishment’s tiny bathroom.
Take it easy… just be polite…
The happy chime of the tune was finally silenced.
“Shto?” she answered; surprising even herself of how nonchalant her voice sounded.
“What took you so long, woman? Filling your nails?”
Sascha; you’re a drek head.
Ludmilla took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper under control.
“Just… what do you want?”
“I still don’t know why it has to be you” he spat back at her in a disappointed tone “get that ass of yours to the bakery for 16. Try not to be late.”
“Go f…” Ludmila started to mumble under her breath, but fortunately for her, the line was cut before she could finish her statement.
A quick look to her watch; she had about an hour and a half to get there. Biting her lower lip, she started running numbers in her head…. No…. She probably wouldn’t be able to make it in time to pick up Lana from school. A feeling of guilt and shame started creeping up her throat, squeezing it. She made an effort to swallow.
I have to do this.
There was simply no way around it.
In an attempt to calm herself back down, she ran a hand thru her short black hair. It was a nervous tick, like biting her lower lip… but it always seemed to brush some of the anxiety away. After a few seconds of thinking, she dialled Varya’s number.
Not surprisingly, the voicemail picked up. This time around, Ludmilla’s words didn’t flow as easily off her tongue. English… No matter how much she spoke it, her mind simply couldn’t get around it. She rolled her Rs like a Russian villain from a bad action movie.
“Varya, it is me. I know you are there…. Pick up… Varya… I swear, Zina did not ask me to call you… I need service from you. If you could please pick up Lana at school. She finish at 14:30 and I not” she sighed heavily and started her statement again “and I do not think I can make it. Just drop her home… I do not like her walking in this weather. Well, Dobre den Varya. Schastliva.”
She hung up. Her mouth felt dry, as if it was filled with cotton.
Coming out of the bathroom, she dropped the psec back into one of the numerous pockets of her baggy pants. Back in the salon’s main room, Ludi quickly noticed that Mrs. Grondelski was gone… and Zina stood by her station, fists on her waist.
“I’ve told you before, I don’t like it when you leave that thing turned on at work. I don’t care if you have other things to do, but when you are here, you work here. You can’t just go thru life doing as you please, Ludi.”
“I’m sorry aunt, it slipped my mind.”
“Well, don’t let it happen again”
“Or what? You’ll fire me?” she said with a smirk.
As she spoke, Ludmilla had taken her pack of cigarette out and was now hitting it agaisnt her left had, trying to dislodge one. She could feel her aunt starting to turn red. The only thing missing was smoke coming out of her ears.
“Come on Zina, don’t give me a hard time because it’s a slow day” she pulled a cigarette from the pack with her lips
“It was that stinking hoodlum, wasn’t it!”
“Well, even if it isn’t of your business… no it wasn't Miki.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Here we go again!
Ludi knew exactly where the conversation was going to go… the same place it always went. Zina would remind her of her responsibilities as a mother, and would then go on in great details about how her soul would burn in hell for her sins. If only she knew what else she had done… Adultery was probably the worst infraction on her heavenly rap sheet. Shutting out her aunt’s rhetoric, the young woman simply lit her cigarette inside the beauty parlour. When the cheap plastic lighter’s flame clicked on, Zina stopped dead in her tracks, petrified by her niece's insolence.
“I’ve told you not to sm…”
“Enough!”
Ludmilla snapped. Her right fist came down crashing on the desk. Zina, caught by surprised, jerked backward, fear in her eyes. Ludi’s breathing was heavy and slow; like a beast about to charge. She closed her eyes, threw her head back and pulled a long drag on the cigarette. As she spoke, it dangled from the corner of her mouth.
“I’m going now. I’ll see you tonight.”
Without adding another word, she grabbed her coat and walked out the door. She had to change, and pick some things up.
From bad… to worst.
15:42: 11 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Outside “The Bakery”, Renton
Ludi sat in her car, just across the street from the Russian Bakery. She had been there numerous times… and twice she had actually bought some pastries. They weren’t bad… but then again, they weren’t especially good either. Fresh bread wasn’t really the establishment’s speciality. As she blew on her hands, rubbing them to keep them warm, her eyes were fixated on the storefront. There was always the small possibility of an ambush…
What if they know about us… What if they found out and think that I’m dangerous…
She pushed the thought aside. Even if they did find out, they wouldn’t do a thing about it. Mikhail had her back. At least, that’s what she told herself every day.
What if I’m just another of his flings… What if I’m just another girl….
Leaning forward, her hand went under her jacket, un-holstering a Colt L36. In a movement that seemed almost mechanical, she ejected the clip, made sure it was full, and chambered a round. At 15:55, she’d get out of the car, jog across the street, and push the door open.
As she watched the minutes tick by, her thoughts went back to her altercation with Zina. It happened way to often… Ludi didn’t like admitting it, but she was very like her aunt. Both women had fiery temper… and the ego that went with it. The incident would be soon forgotten, but no one would ever apologize for it.
Oh God! What if this is one of Miki’s surprise dinner out!
Ludi started cursing at herself. She hadn’t brought any change of clothes… not that she liked dressing up. She rarely did. Seeing her in a dress was a once in a life time occasion. Looking down at herself, the young woman started feeling strangely self-conscious about her look. She was still wearing her faithful heavy combat boots. She had beige baggy pants, full of pockets and zippers, and a dark green hooded sweater. Everything in her attire was practical, and that’s how she liked it.
Nonsense. These clothes are fine.
A few more minutes and she would know what Sascha’s call was about. She glanced at the dashboard of the sedan, double checking the time.
Just enough for another smoke.
15:54:51 Thursday 11, January 2063 – Outside "The Bakery", Renton
Time to go.
With a final glance around the interior of the car to make sure she had everything, Ludmilla holstered the L36, grabbed her shapka, and exited the car. A blast of cold air struck her as she stood regarding the bakery, cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. It was an old, old building made of blonde brick. An old-fashioned cloth awning in blue and white stripes hung over condensation-clouded windows. Above the awning was a neon sign that read "Russian Bakery."
Ludmilla shut the Mercury's door and tossed her cigarette butt into the slush, her heightened hearing picking up the faint hiss as it was extinguished. Exhaling smoke, she checked the street for traffic then jogged through the puddles towards the storefront's entrance.
The chipped lettering painted on the door mirrored the neon sign above the awning. The young woman had always wondered about the wisdom of using a place like this as a Vory "office," especially with that name, but she wasn't in charge of such decisions. Removing her shapka, she pushed her hand through her short, black hair and opened the door to a jingle of bells.
Even though she'd been here dozens of times, Ludi's practised eye noted firing angles and lines of sight, exits and possible cover. There was a seating area occupying half the room and a glass case and counter in the rear. Many of the small tables were occupied, mostly by old men drinking tea and reading the paper. A few played chess. She knew that some would be connected and some just neighborhood men, though she didn't know who was who. Several large flat screen monitors hung in the corners showing various Russian channels.
She also noted the two goons seated at one of the tables who eyed her as she walked in. They were typical enforcer-types. One, who probably thought he was a ladies' man, had slicked hair and a cheap suit. The other, taller and thinner, wore a black synthleather jacket. He looked the more dangerous of the two, though the jacket had little to do with her assessment.
"Mr. Black Jacket" nodded as she paused just inside the door, obviously realizing her identity. She didn't recognize either man; there were dozens like them working for Mikhail and the Vory. However, the fact that they knew her didn't alarm her in the slightest. There may be dozens like them, but there was only one Ludmilla.
Returning his nod, she continued walking towards the back. A bored-looking blonde girl behind the counter gave her a wan smile as she approached. Ludi returned the smile, but didn't pause, simply walking past the counter and into the kitchens. She glanced around as she quickly crossed the room, her boots thudding heavily on the tile. The heat was oppressive, and workers scurried about, but she knew that the ovens were shut-down for the day. Activity would be double or more in the early morning hours when the bakers plied their craft.
Dodging aside as a young man scurried past with a tray of buns, Ludmilla pushed through swinging double-doors and into the storeroom. Shelves of flour and sugar and other ingredients lined the walls. Off to one side was the door to the cooler, it's dented surface reflecting the overhead lighting. Her destination though was a single non-descript door in the rear corner. Crossing to it, she waited until she heard the maglock disengage then entered.
The area was small and smoky. A wiry man in shirtsleeves sat before a small bank of security monitors. Ludi had seen him before, and thought his name was Petr but couldn't remember for sure. A larger man sat at a the desk next to him playing with a deck of cards. Petr looked up as she entered and took the cigarette from his mouth. "In back. The big room. They're expecting you."
Smiling a thanks, Ludmilla crossed the small room and walked down the short hallway. There were a few doors in the hall, but most of the rooms were used to store various contraband and equipment. Meetings always took place in one of two places: the big room and the little room. Stopping before the door to the big room, the russian woman removed her hat and knocked politely. After a few seconds a voice called out, "Yes, yes. Enter." With a final hand through her hair and a smoothing of her clothes, she did so.
The first thing she noticed upon entering was Mikhail's right-hand man, Sascha. He sat at a small desk, his back to her, talking to someone on a telecom. He cut the feed as she entered, the image of the caller replaced by some sort of girly screen-saver. He looked over his shoulder at her, then stood. "Ah, the lovely and charming Ludmilla. Come in, my dear. Come in."
Her teeth grated as he spoke her name, but then Ludi realized something else: Mikhail wasn't among the other men in the room. Besides Sascha there were three others present, all bruisers she had seen around but couldn't name. She quickly turned to put her back to the wall, as one of the brutes that had been to her right as she'd entered reached over and closed the door. "What's this, Sascha? Where the frag's Mikhail? I thought he called this meeting?"
Sitting on the edge of the desk, Sascha ran an idle hand over slicked-back hair. His thick lips curled in a smile. "Did I say that? Hmm. I think you are mistaken. Mr. Rodion is with his lovely wife, attending a school recital for one of his boys."
He pushed a chair towards her with an expensive shoe. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."
Time to go.
With a final glance around the interior of the car to make sure she had everything, Ludmilla holstered the L36, grabbed her shapka, and exited the car. A blast of cold air struck her as she stood regarding the bakery, cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. It was an old, old building made of blonde brick. An old-fashioned cloth awning in blue and white stripes hung over condensation-clouded windows. Above the awning was a neon sign that read "Russian Bakery."
Ludmilla shut the Mercury's door and tossed her cigarette butt into the slush, her heightened hearing picking up the faint hiss as it was extinguished. Exhaling smoke, she checked the street for traffic then jogged through the puddles towards the storefront's entrance.
The chipped lettering painted on the door mirrored the neon sign above the awning. The young woman had always wondered about the wisdom of using a place like this as a Vory "office," especially with that name, but she wasn't in charge of such decisions. Removing her shapka, she pushed her hand through her short, black hair and opened the door to a jingle of bells.
Even though she'd been here dozens of times, Ludi's practised eye noted firing angles and lines of sight, exits and possible cover. There was a seating area occupying half the room and a glass case and counter in the rear. Many of the small tables were occupied, mostly by old men drinking tea and reading the paper. A few played chess. She knew that some would be connected and some just neighborhood men, though she didn't know who was who. Several large flat screen monitors hung in the corners showing various Russian channels.
She also noted the two goons seated at one of the tables who eyed her as she walked in. They were typical enforcer-types. One, who probably thought he was a ladies' man, had slicked hair and a cheap suit. The other, taller and thinner, wore a black synthleather jacket. He looked the more dangerous of the two, though the jacket had little to do with her assessment.
"Mr. Black Jacket" nodded as she paused just inside the door, obviously realizing her identity. She didn't recognize either man; there were dozens like them working for Mikhail and the Vory. However, the fact that they knew her didn't alarm her in the slightest. There may be dozens like them, but there was only one Ludmilla.
Returning his nod, she continued walking towards the back. A bored-looking blonde girl behind the counter gave her a wan smile as she approached. Ludi returned the smile, but didn't pause, simply walking past the counter and into the kitchens. She glanced around as she quickly crossed the room, her boots thudding heavily on the tile. The heat was oppressive, and workers scurried about, but she knew that the ovens were shut-down for the day. Activity would be double or more in the early morning hours when the bakers plied their craft.
Dodging aside as a young man scurried past with a tray of buns, Ludmilla pushed through swinging double-doors and into the storeroom. Shelves of flour and sugar and other ingredients lined the walls. Off to one side was the door to the cooler, it's dented surface reflecting the overhead lighting. Her destination though was a single non-descript door in the rear corner. Crossing to it, she waited until she heard the maglock disengage then entered.
The area was small and smoky. A wiry man in shirtsleeves sat before a small bank of security monitors. Ludi had seen him before, and thought his name was Petr but couldn't remember for sure. A larger man sat at a the desk next to him playing with a deck of cards. Petr looked up as she entered and took the cigarette from his mouth. "In back. The big room. They're expecting you."
Smiling a thanks, Ludmilla crossed the small room and walked down the short hallway. There were a few doors in the hall, but most of the rooms were used to store various contraband and equipment. Meetings always took place in one of two places: the big room and the little room. Stopping before the door to the big room, the russian woman removed her hat and knocked politely. After a few seconds a voice called out, "Yes, yes. Enter." With a final hand through her hair and a smoothing of her clothes, she did so.
The first thing she noticed upon entering was Mikhail's right-hand man, Sascha. He sat at a small desk, his back to her, talking to someone on a telecom. He cut the feed as she entered, the image of the caller replaced by some sort of girly screen-saver. He looked over his shoulder at her, then stood. "Ah, the lovely and charming Ludmilla. Come in, my dear. Come in."
Her teeth grated as he spoke her name, but then Ludi realized something else: Mikhail wasn't among the other men in the room. Besides Sascha there were three others present, all bruisers she had seen around but couldn't name. She quickly turned to put her back to the wall, as one of the brutes that had been to her right as she'd entered reached over and closed the door. "What's this, Sascha? Where the frag's Mikhail? I thought he called this meeting?"
Sitting on the edge of the desk, Sascha ran an idle hand over slicked-back hair. His thick lips curled in a smile. "Did I say that? Hmm. I think you are mistaken. Mr. Rodion is with his lovely wife, attending a school recital for one of his boys."
He pushed a chair towards her with an expensive shoe. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."
15:59:17 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
As she made her way through the bakery, Ludmilla couldn’t help herself but feel a strange sense of pride. People recognized her, and when she walked, they parted ways to let her pass. She probably wasn’t the most feared, or important, member of the Vory V Zakone… but at least, she was respected.
Since she had deserted the army, she had longed for a sense of purpose; for that crucial feeling of being part of something bigger and more important than oneself. The Vory was a criminal organization, that was a given. But they weren’t a group of low life thieves and thugs. They were the only ones who still had some shred of honor left; the only ones who still followed a code. Where the Mafia and the Yakuza fought each other for the money and the territory, like wild animals, the Vory helped its people. They took the jobless immigrants and gave them a purpose. They worked for the betterment of the community.
As the door closed behind Ludmilla, she began to miss the reassuring weight of her Predator. Expecting a meeting with Mikhail, she had come only lightly armed. But now, it was a whole other ball game. The only good thing was that if something did go wrong, any fighting would be done in close quarter; Ludi’s specialty.
But there’s four of them…
She gave each of the bruisers a large smile before chuckling at the intention of Sascha.
“Three? Now now Sascha… you wouldn’t be scared of me would you?”
Dropping herself in the chair, she threw her shapka on Sascha’s desk. Both her hands went into her jacket’s pockets, one for the pack of smokes, the other for the lighter. As she lit it, she kept a smirk on her face; taunting him. She made sure to offer a cigarette to everyone, except Sascha.
“So” the lighter and pack each went back in their pockets “what's this about?”
She tipped her chair slightly backwards, setting one of her boots against the desk’s edge.
As she made her way through the bakery, Ludmilla couldn’t help herself but feel a strange sense of pride. People recognized her, and when she walked, they parted ways to let her pass. She probably wasn’t the most feared, or important, member of the Vory V Zakone… but at least, she was respected.
Since she had deserted the army, she had longed for a sense of purpose; for that crucial feeling of being part of something bigger and more important than oneself. The Vory was a criminal organization, that was a given. But they weren’t a group of low life thieves and thugs. They were the only ones who still had some shred of honor left; the only ones who still followed a code. Where the Mafia and the Yakuza fought each other for the money and the territory, like wild animals, the Vory helped its people. They took the jobless immigrants and gave them a purpose. They worked for the betterment of the community.
As the door closed behind Ludmilla, she began to miss the reassuring weight of her Predator. Expecting a meeting with Mikhail, she had come only lightly armed. But now, it was a whole other ball game. The only good thing was that if something did go wrong, any fighting would be done in close quarter; Ludi’s specialty.
But there’s four of them…
She gave each of the bruisers a large smile before chuckling at the intention of Sascha.
“Three? Now now Sascha… you wouldn’t be scared of me would you?”
Dropping herself in the chair, she threw her shapka on Sascha’s desk. Both her hands went into her jacket’s pockets, one for the pack of smokes, the other for the lighter. As she lit it, she kept a smirk on her face; taunting him. She made sure to offer a cigarette to everyone, except Sascha.
“So” the lighter and pack each went back in their pockets “what's this about?”
She tipped her chair slightly backwards, setting one of her boots against the desk’s edge.
21:37:48 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Fall Inn, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Karma took one last glance around before pushing back from the bar. A gentle shrug settled out the wrinkles in her longcoat without revealing any of the weapons slung beneath.
"I'll catch you later, partner. Watch your back out there." She raps her fist against Marquis' shoulder before heading out into the harsh, cutting wind and snow.
Karma took one last glance around before pushing back from the bar. A gentle shrug settled out the wrinkles in her longcoat without revealing any of the weapons slung beneath.
"I'll catch you later, partner. Watch your back out there." She raps her fist against Marquis' shoulder before heading out into the harsh, cutting wind and snow.
20:44:19 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Sitting in a shop, sipping coffee and reading the paper; Notice the SINless, trying to blend into an urban environment. Notice as well the telltale slightly used coat and careful seating arrangement. Tony, having had enough time, hot (real) coffee and up to date news to dissipate the anti-corp attitude caused by his run-in with the Corporate world and its arrogant denizens. The screamsheet didn’t hold much of interest: a few earnings reports, timed to be released and then forgotten about by Monday morning; some reporter in semi-fawning, God-I-hope-this-is-sarcastic-and-not-for-real interview of Saito down in San Fran.
His psec buzzes in the breast pocket, and Tony’s slightly questioning and hopeful glance changes as he sees that it isn’t a call back from Ran or Reign, but a reminder, blinking on the screen Sam, dinner?. Great, should have checked my schedule he thought, flicking the screen to call his friend and try to reschedule.
“Yo, Adrian.” Tony said, in horrible fake Italian accent
Sitting in a shop, sipping coffee and reading the paper; Notice the SINless, trying to blend into an urban environment. Notice as well the telltale slightly used coat and careful seating arrangement. Tony, having had enough time, hot (real) coffee and up to date news to dissipate the anti-corp attitude caused by his run-in with the Corporate world and its arrogant denizens. The screamsheet didn’t hold much of interest: a few earnings reports, timed to be released and then forgotten about by Monday morning; some reporter in semi-fawning, God-I-hope-this-is-sarcastic-and-not-for-real interview of Saito down in San Fran.
His psec buzzes in the breast pocket, and Tony’s slightly questioning and hopeful glance changes as he sees that it isn’t a call back from Ran or Reign, but a reminder, blinking on the screen Sam, dinner?. Great, should have checked my schedule he thought, flicking the screen to call his friend and try to reschedule.
“Yo, Adrian.” Tony said, in horrible fake Italian accent
20:44:31 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
"Ugh, that's almost as bad as your taste in women. It's a slow night and I think the new kid can handle business for a couple hours. Want to head down to the Waterfront and grab a steakburger?" Sam sounds unusually subdued and tense, as if preoccupied by something else.
"Ugh, that's almost as bad as your taste in women. It's a slow night and I think the new kid can handle business for a couple hours. Want to head down to the Waterfront and grab a steakburger?" Sam sounds unusually subdued and tense, as if preoccupied by something else.
16:01:23 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Contrary to Ludmilla's suspicions and despite her swaggering, none of the men made any threatening moves. Sascha even managed a small smile, though his eyes flicked in the direction of her boots as she deposited them heavily on his desk. Returning his gaze to her face, his smile widened as he reached within his jacket, pulled out a cigarette case and popped it open. Placing one in his mouth, he snapped the case closed as one of the other men crossed to light it for him.
"Scared? Why would I be scared? We are all friends here, yes?" Taking a deep pull off of his cigarette, Sascha nodded a thanks at the man holding the lighter. "As for what it is about, that is simple. I have a job for you. I assume you need the work?"
Contrary to Ludmilla's suspicions and despite her swaggering, none of the men made any threatening moves. Sascha even managed a small smile, though his eyes flicked in the direction of her boots as she deposited them heavily on his desk. Returning his gaze to her face, his smile widened as he reached within his jacket, pulled out a cigarette case and popped it open. Placing one in his mouth, he snapped the case closed as one of the other men crossed to light it for him.
"Scared? Why would I be scared? We are all friends here, yes?" Taking a deep pull off of his cigarette, Sascha nodded a thanks at the man holding the lighter. "As for what it is about, that is simple. I have a job for you. I assume you need the work?"
16:01:44 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
"Friends?" there was a hint of sarcasm in Ludmilla's voice. "Of course. One... big... happy... family."
Smoke spilled from her nose and when toward the ceiling.
"You have a job for me?" she took a small pause, giving a quick roundhouse look.
"Are you sure you don't mean we?"
As she took another pull from her cigarette, she spoke again without waiting for an answer. She was eager to get some work... her savings were starting to dry up way too fast for her taste.
"I have a few deals here and there" she exhaled the smoke again "but I wouldn't be agaisnt a bit more work."
"Friends?" there was a hint of sarcasm in Ludmilla's voice. "Of course. One... big... happy... family."
Smoke spilled from her nose and when toward the ceiling.
"You have a job for me?" she took a small pause, giving a quick roundhouse look.
"Are you sure you don't mean we?"
As she took another pull from her cigarette, she spoke again without waiting for an answer. She was eager to get some work... her savings were starting to dry up way too fast for her taste.
"I have a few deals here and there" she exhaled the smoke again "but I wouldn't be agaisnt a bit more work."
16:02:09 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
"This is good, very good." Sascha carelessly ashes onto the floor before continuing. "There is one thing you must understand first, however. When I said that I have a job for you, I meant I have a job for you. You will tell no one else. No one at all. Do you understand?"
"This is good, very good." Sascha carelessly ashes onto the floor before continuing. "There is one thing you must understand first, however. When I said that I have a job for you, I meant I have a job for you. You will tell no one else. No one at all. Do you understand?"
16:02:29 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Ludmilla was about to drop her own ashes when Sascha mentioned that he was the one giving the job. She stopped dead in her tracks, lifting her eyes back toward him. The woman was down right surprised... and wasn't trying to hide it.
Lifting an eyebrow, she titled her head slightly to the side.
You will tell no one else. No one at all.
Now... that was unusual. Secrecy probably meant that what Sascha was about to offer was probably agaisnt some of the Vory's policies.
"What can I" she leaned forward "do for you?"
Ludmilla was about to drop her own ashes when Sascha mentioned that he was the one giving the job. She stopped dead in her tracks, lifting her eyes back toward him. The woman was down right surprised... and wasn't trying to hide it.
Lifting an eyebrow, she titled her head slightly to the side.
You will tell no one else. No one at all.
Now... that was unusual. Secrecy probably meant that what Sascha was about to offer was probably agaisnt some of the Vory's policies.
"What can I" she leaned forward "do for you?"
20:44:57 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Did you look at the chica last night? I've got a date with her in about an hour. In Tacoma. And the Waterfront isn't a place I want to go back to. I can hit up the bottom floor of the Landing pronto, but I ain't missing a date with this girl. What's wrong jefe? You sound like you've seen a ghost. Tony said, both trying to dodge out of meeting with his friend and wanting to sit down with him at the same time.
Did you look at the chica last night? I've got a date with her in about an hour. In Tacoma. And the Waterfront isn't a place I want to go back to. I can hit up the bottom floor of the Landing pronto, but I ain't missing a date with this girl. What's wrong jefe? You sound like you've seen a ghost. Tony said, both trying to dodge out of meeting with his friend and wanting to sit down with him at the same time.
16:02:59 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Sascha watches Ludmilla intently for several moments, slowly losing his smile. Finally, he ashes again and puts the cigarette in his mouth, then reaches into his jacket. Placing a small memory chip onto the desk, he slides it towards her with one finger.
"This contains the blueprints of a small building in Auburn; a restaraunt. It recently underwent some...'forced renovations.' During its reconstruction I'd like you to set it up for remote surveillance. Areas of primary interest are marked on the file."
Sascha watches Ludmilla intently for several moments, slowly losing his smile. Finally, he ashes again and puts the cigarette in his mouth, then reaches into his jacket. Placing a small memory chip onto the desk, he slides it towards her with one finger.
"This contains the blueprints of a small building in Auburn; a restaraunt. It recently underwent some...'forced renovations.' During its reconstruction I'd like you to set it up for remote surveillance. Areas of primary interest are marked on the file."
20:45:22 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
"Nah, I'll take a rain check then. You know that getting a table at the Landing'll take a while and I don't want to make another meal out of the wings they serve upstairs. Plus I wouldn't want you to be late for your hot date. Underground's got some word about your old partners, though. Heard anything?"
"Nah, I'll take a rain check then. You know that getting a table at the Landing'll take a while and I don't want to make another meal out of the wings they serve upstairs. Plus I wouldn't want you to be late for your hot date. Underground's got some word about your old partners, though. Heard anything?"
20:46:44 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Tony takes the psec down from his ear and looks at it, shaking his head. The old man's retired and he keeps his ear to the ground. "Yeah, had a decker check up on them. Ricky's in Atlanta, seems like he's doing well," Tony said, not relishing telling Sam the next part. Pausing and taking a deep breath, he continued, "And before you say anything about Priest, she's in a maximum security prision in Calfree. Don't say it, either," he said, remembering the arguments they'd had about contact before.
Tony takes the psec down from his ear and looks at it, shaking his head. The old man's retired and he keeps his ear to the ground. "Yeah, had a decker check up on them. Ricky's in Atlanta, seems like he's doing well," Tony said, not relishing telling Sam the next part. Pausing and taking a deep breath, he continued, "And before you say anything about Priest, she's in a maximum security prision in Calfree. Don't say it, either," he said, remembering the arguments they'd had about contact before.
16:03:22 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Good. He's not asking me to whack someone.
As Sascha slid the chip on the desk, Ludmilla quickly unzipped one of her pockets. In a few seconds, her psec was out, and she had already slotted the chip in it.
Quickly scanning the file, she spoke slowly... her attention clearly focused on the blueprints.
"Da... There shouldn't be any problems".
The woman lifted her eyes from the screen, crossing Sascha's gaze.
"I only have 3 questions: audio and video, timeframe..." she flicked her dying cigarette to the floor, crushing it under her boot "and payment".
Good. He's not asking me to whack someone.
As Sascha slid the chip on the desk, Ludmilla quickly unzipped one of her pockets. In a few seconds, her psec was out, and she had already slotted the chip in it.
Quickly scanning the file, she spoke slowly... her attention clearly focused on the blueprints.
"Da... There shouldn't be any problems".
The woman lifted her eyes from the screen, crossing Sascha's gaze.
"I only have 3 questions: audio and video, timeframe..." she flicked her dying cigarette to the floor, crushing it under her boot "and payment".
16:04:03 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
"Audio, yes. Video would be excellent, but is not as critical. Most important is that whatever devices you install remain undetected for as long as possible. This is a location that may be subject to periodic sweeps. Make sure that you..." Sascha pauses here and smiles again. "Ah, but who I am to tell you how to do such things. This is, after all, one of your specialties.
"The timeframe is a little tricky. The restaurant that the building houses will not be reopened to the public for a few weeks. However, we do not know if other activity will resume sooner. It must be assumed that it will. Which, of course, is just my long-winded way of saying 'As soon as possible.'
"Access to the building will be up to you. It will be lightly guarded at night and occupied by workers during the day. If you choose to try the daytime route, let me know. The general contractor on the job owes me a favor.
"Compensation will be 1000
upfront with an additional 750 upon successful connection to the devices. I'll also cover expenses within reason. Speaking of, you will also be responsible for the devices themselves. Since secrecy is one of our goals, do not use any usual channels. Use whatever external contacts you possess."
Ashing again, Sascha began to examine the nails on his right hand. "Comments? Questions?"
"Audio, yes. Video would be excellent, but is not as critical. Most important is that whatever devices you install remain undetected for as long as possible. This is a location that may be subject to periodic sweeps. Make sure that you..." Sascha pauses here and smiles again. "Ah, but who I am to tell you how to do such things. This is, after all, one of your specialties.
"The timeframe is a little tricky. The restaurant that the building houses will not be reopened to the public for a few weeks. However, we do not know if other activity will resume sooner. It must be assumed that it will. Which, of course, is just my long-winded way of saying 'As soon as possible.'
"Access to the building will be up to you. It will be lightly guarded at night and occupied by workers during the day. If you choose to try the daytime route, let me know. The general contractor on the job owes me a favor.
"Compensation will be 1000
upfront with an additional 750 upon successful connection to the devices. I'll also cover expenses within reason. Speaking of, you will also be responsible for the devices themselves. Since secrecy is one of our goals, do not use any usual channels. Use whatever external contacts you possess."Ashing again, Sascha began to examine the nails on his right hand. "Comments? Questions?"
20:46:58 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
"Got the same news I did, I see. There's another rumor that I'm checking up on, so catch up with me quick after your date tonight. I don't want to talk about it until I've got confirmation and it's nothing that can be done over the line. Funny you should mention CalFree, though. There's more word from the Underground about suspicious movements down there around LA. I've been getting this feeling lately that something big is going to go down." Again, Tony can hear the quiet tension in the bartender's voice, the kind of tone he uses when bad news is about to get worse.
"Got the same news I did, I see. There's another rumor that I'm checking up on, so catch up with me quick after your date tonight. I don't want to talk about it until I've got confirmation and it's nothing that can be done over the line. Funny you should mention CalFree, though. There's more word from the Underground about suspicious movements down there around LA. I've been getting this feeling lately that something big is going to go down." Again, Tony can hear the quiet tension in the bartender's voice, the kind of tone he uses when bad news is about to get worse.
20:47:16 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
"L.A.? Damn, you do get around. And yeah, there is some weirdo stuff happening out here, but that bad? Don't tell me I've got to go on guard duty at the Farm again," Tony said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. First Zedya, now Sam's hyped up about something. Come on Ran, call me back, I need to know some stuff...
"L.A.? Damn, you do get around. And yeah, there is some weirdo stuff happening out here, but that bad? Don't tell me I've got to go on guard duty at the Farm again," Tony said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. First Zedya, now Sam's hyped up about something. Come on Ran, call me back, I need to know some stuff...
16:05:17 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Ludmilla’s green eyes were still fixed on the psec screen; schematics, avenues of approach, gear listing… all running through her mind at lightning speed. The bugging job in itself wasn’t something difficult. The design would be more intricate. There wasn’t much on the open, or black market, that could fill in the needs of the operation. Everything would have to be custom made to very precise parameters.
The psec bright screen slowly turned off, as the woman pocketed back the device.
“It’s doable. I’m going to have to do some custom work on a few miniatures microphone units”
Ludmilla bit her lower lip and absent-mindedly shifted her eyes toward the ceiling.
“Quality audio recorder, and the gear that I’ll have to set up on location could go higher than just what you’re offering me.”
With a heavy thud, her right boot left the table for the floor.
“Depending on the funds you’re willing to spent… I’ll try to get you a price quote by the end of the day.”
Her right hand finally came out of her pocket, as it released its grip from the taser Ludmilla had been holding the whole time.
“1750…” she got up, stretching her arms and cracking her neck from side to side “isn’t enough.”
She brushed away a short strand of black hair from her face.
“You are asking me to go around everyone’s back… and I don’t have to tell you that this is probably some serious toe stepping you’re about to do.”
Ludmilla was now standing tall before the sitting Sascha. She knew perfectly that he wasn’t the kind of man one could intimidate in coughing up some more money, but he was also clever enough not to underpay her… especially for something like this.
“This job carries a lot more risks than the usual surveillance gig. If anyone hears about it, I’ll be in deeper drek than you. I need more than 1 750.”
Ludmilla’s green eyes were still fixed on the psec screen; schematics, avenues of approach, gear listing… all running through her mind at lightning speed. The bugging job in itself wasn’t something difficult. The design would be more intricate. There wasn’t much on the open, or black market, that could fill in the needs of the operation. Everything would have to be custom made to very precise parameters.
The psec bright screen slowly turned off, as the woman pocketed back the device.
“It’s doable. I’m going to have to do some custom work on a few miniatures microphone units”
Ludmilla bit her lower lip and absent-mindedly shifted her eyes toward the ceiling.
“Quality audio recorder, and the gear that I’ll have to set up on location could go higher than just what you’re offering me.”
With a heavy thud, her right boot left the table for the floor.
“Depending on the funds you’re willing to spent… I’ll try to get you a price quote by the end of the day.”
Her right hand finally came out of her pocket, as it released its grip from the taser Ludmilla had been holding the whole time.
“1750…” she got up, stretching her arms and cracking her neck from side to side “isn’t enough.”
She brushed away a short strand of black hair from her face.
“You are asking me to go around everyone’s back… and I don’t have to tell you that this is probably some serious toe stepping you’re about to do.”
Ludmilla was now standing tall before the sitting Sascha. She knew perfectly that he wasn’t the kind of man one could intimidate in coughing up some more money, but he was also clever enough not to underpay her… especially for something like this.
“This job carries a lot more risks than the usual surveillance gig. If anyone hears about it, I’ll be in deeper drek than you. I need more than 1 750.”
20:47:28 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
This last statement brings a chuckle from the bartender.
"No, best defense is a fluid one. The kind of conflict we're talking about is the kind that burns down anyone that falls behind. Keep your eyes moving and watch your six. Call me when you've got some free time."
This last statement brings a chuckle from the bartender.
"No, best defense is a fluid one. The kind of conflict we're talking about is the kind that burns down anyone that falls behind. Keep your eyes moving and watch your six. Call me when you've got some free time."
20:58:28 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Outside Sufficient Grounds, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
"You could be an optimist for once. Don't wait up for me, I'll be in touch," Tony said, cutting off the call with a frown and not feeling as lighthearted and confidant as his voice let on. Zeyda being worried was one thing; the guy had fingers in a metric ton of (probably real) pies at any given moment. Sam hearing of some stuff was a bit more concerning, but he did tend to keep his ear to the ground and hear a lot of things from some freaky people, and Tony was ready to write most of the stuff off as just a some ‘Children of the Dragon’ style cult with some heavily armed members.
Yeah, Massada would fit in with that he thought, staring at the e-paper laying flat on the small round table of the coffee shop. And someone calling themselves Red Queen probably ain’t the most mentally stable person around. Still, whoever this person was had tagged him already. Making the date with Reign had been an impulsive gesture, and one that he now regretted a bit. And we don’t want any repeats of yesterday, now do we? he thought, wincing a bit as his subconscious reminded him of his past.
I’ll tell her when I get there, it’ll just be a short date tonight, he thought, tossing the plasticized paper cup into the trash can on the way out rejoining the river of people meandering up and down the boulevard, resolving to do a quick drive by of whatever this place was before heading out to Bluefish, for both business and (hopefully) pleasure.
And, I’ll get a chance to see if anyone’s following me he thought, moving into a current that looked like it was heading toward a bus stop a few blocks ahead.
"You could be an optimist for once. Don't wait up for me, I'll be in touch," Tony said, cutting off the call with a frown and not feeling as lighthearted and confidant as his voice let on. Zeyda being worried was one thing; the guy had fingers in a metric ton of (probably real) pies at any given moment. Sam hearing of some stuff was a bit more concerning, but he did tend to keep his ear to the ground and hear a lot of things from some freaky people, and Tony was ready to write most of the stuff off as just a some ‘Children of the Dragon’ style cult with some heavily armed members.
Yeah, Massada would fit in with that he thought, staring at the e-paper laying flat on the small round table of the coffee shop. And someone calling themselves Red Queen probably ain’t the most mentally stable person around. Still, whoever this person was had tagged him already. Making the date with Reign had been an impulsive gesture, and one that he now regretted a bit. And we don’t want any repeats of yesterday, now do we? he thought, wincing a bit as his subconscious reminded him of his past.
I’ll tell her when I get there, it’ll just be a short date tonight, he thought, tossing the plasticized paper cup into the trash can on the way out rejoining the river of people meandering up and down the boulevard, resolving to do a quick drive by of whatever this place was before heading out to Bluefish, for both business and (hopefully) pleasure.
And, I’ll get a chance to see if anyone’s following me he thought, moving into a current that looked like it was heading toward a bus stop a few blocks ahead.
21:20:44 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Outside Capitol Hill Terrace Apartments, Seattle, UCAS
The wind drives the snow like a whip, slashing across the street as Tony steps off the bus. As near as he could tell, no one had taken an interest in him as he made his way towards his home. No one turned to watch him pass, no eyes followed his reflection in the mirrored plexiglas shopfronts, no drones wheeled overhead, tracking with unblinking sensors. It was enough to make him doubt his paranoia. But the days events played over in his mind again, the desperate eyes of the woman in the parking garage mingling with the sultry fire of Reign's gaze. In the end, that gave way to the smoky memory of Andie's eyes.
The wind drives the snow like a whip, slashing across the street as Tony steps off the bus. As near as he could tell, no one had taken an interest in him as he made his way towards his home. No one turned to watch him pass, no eyes followed his reflection in the mirrored plexiglas shopfronts, no drones wheeled overhead, tracking with unblinking sensors. It was enough to make him doubt his paranoia. But the days events played over in his mind again, the desperate eyes of the woman in the parking garage mingling with the sultry fire of Reign's gaze. In the end, that gave way to the smoky memory of Andie's eyes.
21:40:58 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Outside Capitol Hill Terrace Apartments, Seattle, UCAS
A starry, cool night. A pine forest, far removed from and yet somehow resembling the sprawls they both now called home. This was home to them; they’d grown up here, and a semi-planned bit of vacation time had drawn them again together. Both reclined away from each other in an old fashioned waxed canvas tent that he’d managed to sneak out from the supply guy, with the help of some Cubans that he’d gotten from Seattle. On her part, she’d managed to get a bottle of ’48 Syrah from the canteen; how she’d gotten it she wouldn’t say, and he didn’t want to ask. Both took pulls from the bottle, lounging hotly in the tent
‘You know, this may be the last time we see each other’ he said, after a long swig from the bottle of wine, passing it back to her. The small fire outside that she’d set up was still going, crackling away at odd times during the conversation.
‘We always say that. And we always see each other’ she said, taking a drag off the Cuban cigarillo she’d lit with a snap of her fingers, setting the bottle down after drawing a sip of her own. Each had developed their own bad habits; he’d taken up drinking, and she smoking. These things were common among them, they’d told them, after what they’ve experienced. He opened up a flap on vent the smoke. She barely tolerated wine herself, but neither one wished the other to go away.
‘Really, I’m getting promoted next week. Sam’s retiring, and he recommended me’ he said, torn between enjoying the promotion and the requirements it brought about.
‘Bastard’ she said playfully, kicking her leg out from under the blanket at him. He caught it almost as she moved, and, swiping her leg over to the side of his face, kissed the top of her foot. ‘Damn, you just got in’ she said triumphantly, relishing his touch upon her.
‘And I’ve got some news as well,’ she said, extending her leg against his face. ‘I’m about to be the Queen of Atlanta’ she finished, stretching her arms out in a pose that would do Scarlett proud, or as proud as she could be, naked in a tent in the woods of the CAS.
‘That’s what I heard,’ he said, nuzzling against the soft skin of her leg, before letting it go to look into her eyes and taking a draw of the bottle. ‘..and, we probably won’t see each other like this again, not now. Not with who we are. We’ve only to lose, remember?’ he said, remembering a motto that they both knew.
‘So…’ she said, suddenly almost recoiling from his touch while drawing on her cigarillo. ‘We’re done? I’m not willing to accept that.’
‘She’s already marked you up for talking to me’ he said, pulling heavily again on the bottle. ‘I’ll have to be a pariah to you, you know that,’
‘You’ll not ever be like that to me’ she said, tossing the lit cigarillo out of the tent in the same motion as meeting him, almost as he was meeting her….
Sure, there were a few times after that. At conferences, back at the office once, but always circumspect. That was three years ago. And you’ve done a lot since then…nothing to help her now. Nor did she help you here. And ain’t nothing you can do about it, except play the hand dealt to you,’ Tony thought as he thumbed open his apartment door, the hard chill wind chasing him down the hall and up the stairs after checking to make sure that he wasn’t followed. He’d re-lived things in his dreams, things he wished he would forget, and he sure didn’t need them while he was awake, with things to do trying to occupy his head.
Shaking it off and looking at the mirror in his bathroom, he only saw himself, a day’s unshaven, beat up and stained coat, hard to see scars from past fights and battles. You have other things to do, other places to see, more things to conquer. The time for reminiscing is past, the time for action is now his subconscious spoke to him, while his conscious mind tried to wake up from the mind-numbing bus ride. Driven, shaving quickly, trying to exfoliate the memory as the razor scraped his skin, changing into a better, more stylish longcoat, he loaded up his duffel bag into his car, tucking his holdout into his coat, and drove off toward Tacoma. Time to almost fight he thought as he headed toward the 5, wishing a drink were in his hand.
A starry, cool night. A pine forest, far removed from and yet somehow resembling the sprawls they both now called home. This was home to them; they’d grown up here, and a semi-planned bit of vacation time had drawn them again together. Both reclined away from each other in an old fashioned waxed canvas tent that he’d managed to sneak out from the supply guy, with the help of some Cubans that he’d gotten from Seattle. On her part, she’d managed to get a bottle of ’48 Syrah from the canteen; how she’d gotten it she wouldn’t say, and he didn’t want to ask. Both took pulls from the bottle, lounging hotly in the tent
‘You know, this may be the last time we see each other’ he said, after a long swig from the bottle of wine, passing it back to her. The small fire outside that she’d set up was still going, crackling away at odd times during the conversation.
‘We always say that. And we always see each other’ she said, taking a drag off the Cuban cigarillo she’d lit with a snap of her fingers, setting the bottle down after drawing a sip of her own. Each had developed their own bad habits; he’d taken up drinking, and she smoking. These things were common among them, they’d told them, after what they’ve experienced. He opened up a flap on vent the smoke. She barely tolerated wine herself, but neither one wished the other to go away.
‘Really, I’m getting promoted next week. Sam’s retiring, and he recommended me’ he said, torn between enjoying the promotion and the requirements it brought about.
‘Bastard’ she said playfully, kicking her leg out from under the blanket at him. He caught it almost as she moved, and, swiping her leg over to the side of his face, kissed the top of her foot. ‘Damn, you just got in’ she said triumphantly, relishing his touch upon her.
‘And I’ve got some news as well,’ she said, extending her leg against his face. ‘I’m about to be the Queen of Atlanta’ she finished, stretching her arms out in a pose that would do Scarlett proud, or as proud as she could be, naked in a tent in the woods of the CAS.
‘That’s what I heard,’ he said, nuzzling against the soft skin of her leg, before letting it go to look into her eyes and taking a draw of the bottle. ‘..and, we probably won’t see each other like this again, not now. Not with who we are. We’ve only to lose, remember?’ he said, remembering a motto that they both knew.
‘So…’ she said, suddenly almost recoiling from his touch while drawing on her cigarillo. ‘We’re done? I’m not willing to accept that.’
‘She’s already marked you up for talking to me’ he said, pulling heavily again on the bottle. ‘I’ll have to be a pariah to you, you know that,’
‘You’ll not ever be like that to me’ she said, tossing the lit cigarillo out of the tent in the same motion as meeting him, almost as he was meeting her….
Sure, there were a few times after that. At conferences, back at the office once, but always circumspect. That was three years ago. And you’ve done a lot since then…nothing to help her now. Nor did she help you here. And ain’t nothing you can do about it, except play the hand dealt to you,’ Tony thought as he thumbed open his apartment door, the hard chill wind chasing him down the hall and up the stairs after checking to make sure that he wasn’t followed. He’d re-lived things in his dreams, things he wished he would forget, and he sure didn’t need them while he was awake, with things to do trying to occupy his head.
Shaking it off and looking at the mirror in his bathroom, he only saw himself, a day’s unshaven, beat up and stained coat, hard to see scars from past fights and battles. You have other things to do, other places to see, more things to conquer. The time for reminiscing is past, the time for action is now his subconscious spoke to him, while his conscious mind tried to wake up from the mind-numbing bus ride. Driven, shaving quickly, trying to exfoliate the memory as the razor scraped his skin, changing into a better, more stylish longcoat, he loaded up his duffel bag into his car, tucking his holdout into his coat, and drove off toward Tacoma. Time to almost fight he thought as he headed toward the 5, wishing a drink were in his hand.
21:37:50 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Fall Inn, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Marquis quickly follows. Even though she would be the one protecting him, it is always a nice gesture for a gentleman to walk a lady out.
Marquis quickly follows. Even though she would be the one protecting him, it is always a nice gesture for a gentleman to walk a lady out.
21:35:04 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Parking lot, Stuffer Shack #5674, Bellevue
After a few rings, Fragger #2 picks up the phone. “Yeah?” he asks.
After a few rings, Fragger #2 picks up the phone. “Yeah?” he asks.
21:35:13 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - En Route to Zerikolopoli
"It's John. From this morning? Any news on our mutual friend?"
"It's John. From this morning? Any news on our mutual friend?"
13:09:26 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Smiling gracefully, Angela accepts the arm offered to her, and Eyes does his best impersonation of a gentleman, escorting her out the door. “Where are we going kind sir?” Angela giggles flirtatiously. Whether she was simply keeping the act up or letting him know that her earlier performance wasn’t entirely for show he wasn’t sure, but at least he did have a destination in mind.
He’d figured the Seattle Aquarium was close by, and should offer enough privacy for them to discuss matters undetected while remaining public enough to ensure nothing got out of hand. Of course, he had to admit to himself that if things were going to get out of hand with Angela, he wasn’t going to fight to the death to stop her.
Arm in arm, they walked through the lightly falling snow, their footsteps muffled by the snow crunching underneath their feet, a thin layer of white and gray between them and the cold, hard concrete that lay just beneath the white surface of a rapidly building winter wonderland.
They covered several blocks in silence, and Eyes used that time to gather his thoughts, to think of how he was going to work with this beautifully dangerous woman with her arm hooked lightly around his own. He caught himself sneaking a glance at her, and for an ever so brief moment, caught a glimpse of sadness and contentment warring with one another in her eyes. Or at least, that’s what he thought he saw in there.
However, there was no mistaking what he saw when he looked ahead again. Staring at him, perhaps no more than fifteen meters in front of him, was a thin, waif-like child, wearing clothing far too light for the cold around his/her skeletal frame, and those unmistakably white, empty eyes, drilling a hole into him with their piercing gaze.
Smiling gracefully, Angela accepts the arm offered to her, and Eyes does his best impersonation of a gentleman, escorting her out the door. “Where are we going kind sir?” Angela giggles flirtatiously. Whether she was simply keeping the act up or letting him know that her earlier performance wasn’t entirely for show he wasn’t sure, but at least he did have a destination in mind.
He’d figured the Seattle Aquarium was close by, and should offer enough privacy for them to discuss matters undetected while remaining public enough to ensure nothing got out of hand. Of course, he had to admit to himself that if things were going to get out of hand with Angela, he wasn’t going to fight to the death to stop her.
Arm in arm, they walked through the lightly falling snow, their footsteps muffled by the snow crunching underneath their feet, a thin layer of white and gray between them and the cold, hard concrete that lay just beneath the white surface of a rapidly building winter wonderland.
They covered several blocks in silence, and Eyes used that time to gather his thoughts, to think of how he was going to work with this beautifully dangerous woman with her arm hooked lightly around his own. He caught himself sneaking a glance at her, and for an ever so brief moment, caught a glimpse of sadness and contentment warring with one another in her eyes. Or at least, that’s what he thought he saw in there.
However, there was no mistaking what he saw when he looked ahead again. Staring at him, perhaps no more than fifteen meters in front of him, was a thin, waif-like child, wearing clothing far too light for the cold around his/her skeletal frame, and those unmistakably white, empty eyes, drilling a hole into him with their piercing gaze.
21:35:13 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - En Route to Zerikolopoli
Fragger #2 shakes his head. “I won’t lie to you chummer. It’s not looking good. The docs say it’s 50/50 right now if she’ll make it. Anything else I can do for you?”
Fragger #2 shakes his head. “I won’t lie to you chummer. It’s not looking good. The docs say it’s 50/50 right now if she’ll make it. Anything else I can do for you?”
16:06:17 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Sascha smiled somewhat unpleasantly, though to Ludmilla everything about the man was unpleasant. He slowly spread his hands in mock apology and spoke, not even bothering to remove the cigarette from between his thick lips. "Alas, 1750 is all I have to offer."
Ludi's temper flared, but before she could tell the Vory captain to shove the lowball offer up his disease-ridden hoop he continued. "Actually, I'm a little surprised that you are even considering my offer. It is no secret where your... loyalties lie. Perhaps you have come to realize the truth of your previous comments? That we are indeed one 'big, happy family.' The Vory V Zakone takes care of its own; watches over them. We watch over you and provide you with work so that you in turn can take care of your own family."
Ludmilla gritted her teeth and spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "You're about to enter dangerous ground, Sascha. Watch your step." She could hear one of the men stir behind her and tensed.
Sascha made a placating gesture, Ludi couldn't tell if it was directed at her or his men, and took on an expression of pained indignation. "What have I said? I only mention your family, your spirited aunt and beautiful daughter, to make a point. We watch out for them as much as we do you. We ensure their safety as much as we do yours."
Dropping the act, he took a final drag from his smoke before grinding it out on the desk. "It doesn't stop there either. Your little sister? The brother in prison? We watch for them too. How do you think that your brother has survived so long? Have you not heard of the conditions in Kamyshinskaya? And your sister? Pretty young girls without family do not survive long in Moscow... not unless they have friends. And she has powerful friends, even if she doesn't realize they are there."
Reaching inside his suit jacket, Sascha removed two credsticks and sat them on the desk. "They have these friends because of you, my dear. They have these friends because you have friends." He crossed his arms and looked Ludi in the eye. How she burned to smash his smug face! "You are now asked to be a good friend and help me out in this. The money may not be the best, and for that I am sorry, but do this and do it well, keep your pretty mouth shut, and there will be more work."
Sascha smiled somewhat unpleasantly, though to Ludmilla everything about the man was unpleasant. He slowly spread his hands in mock apology and spoke, not even bothering to remove the cigarette from between his thick lips. "Alas, 1750
is all I have to offer."Ludi's temper flared, but before she could tell the Vory captain to shove the lowball offer up his disease-ridden hoop he continued. "Actually, I'm a little surprised that you are even considering my offer. It is no secret where your... loyalties lie. Perhaps you have come to realize the truth of your previous comments? That we are indeed one 'big, happy family.' The Vory V Zakone takes care of its own; watches over them. We watch over you and provide you with work so that you in turn can take care of your own family."
Ludmilla gritted her teeth and spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "You're about to enter dangerous ground, Sascha. Watch your step." She could hear one of the men stir behind her and tensed.
Sascha made a placating gesture, Ludi couldn't tell if it was directed at her or his men, and took on an expression of pained indignation. "What have I said? I only mention your family, your spirited aunt and beautiful daughter, to make a point. We watch out for them as much as we do you. We ensure their safety as much as we do yours."
Dropping the act, he took a final drag from his smoke before grinding it out on the desk. "It doesn't stop there either. Your little sister? The brother in prison? We watch for them too. How do you think that your brother has survived so long? Have you not heard of the conditions in Kamyshinskaya? And your sister? Pretty young girls without family do not survive long in Moscow... not unless they have friends. And she has powerful friends, even if she doesn't realize they are there."
Reaching inside his suit jacket, Sascha removed two credsticks and sat them on the desk. "They have these friends because of you, my dear. They have these friends because you have friends." He crossed his arms and looked Ludi in the eye. How she burned to smash his smug face! "You are now asked to be a good friend and help me out in this. The money may not be the best, and for that I am sorry, but do this and do it well, keep your pretty mouth shut, and there will be more work."
21:35:29 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - En Route to Zerikolopoli
"Nah. Just seein' if there was any news. Call if you hear somethin'."
Placing the phone back into his jacket, the old samurai removed his tattered Detroit Tigers hat and ran a hand over his short-cropped hair, then down his face. It had been a long day...
21:49:17 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Zerikolopoli
John stood in a doorway across from the restaurant, finishing a cigarette and killing time before the meet. He'd exchanged his baseball hat for the knit cap from his satchel and had his collar turned up against the cold. The place across the street was quiet, with few patrons entering or leaving at this hour. The building itself seemed well-kept and was decorated in a pseudo-mediterranean fashion. A patio for outdoor seating was closed for the winter.
Taking one final drag, John removed the cigarette from his mouth and flicked the smoking butt into the night. Shuddering against the cold, he completed a final sweep of the area, putting his cybereye's zoom and thermographic features to good use. Satisfied, he quickly crossed the street and entered the restaurant.
The inside was decorated much like the exterior, complete with shutters framing faux windows, their painted landscapes showing lush, rolling hills. Other surfaces were decorated with painted grape-vines or framed pictures of various ruined buildings or statues. A bar area was set off to one side, with small tables for waiting patrons. The dining area could be seen further back. As John watched, a waiter approached a table of five carrying several small trays. With a flourish and a cry of "Opa!" the waiter held a lighter to the trays.
As the dishes burst into flame, John flinched, but managed to stop himself before reaching for one of his concealed Colts. As the flames died down, and the daring waiter began to deposit the dishes onto the table, the old runner heard the bartender ask, "Hoi, chummer. Need some help?"
Turning towards the man with a final glance towards the dining area, John approached the bar. Carefully making his way through the small tables, he said, "Yeah. Got reservations for 22:00. Under Ranger."
"Nah. Just seein' if there was any news. Call if you hear somethin'."
Placing the phone back into his jacket, the old samurai removed his tattered Detroit Tigers hat and ran a hand over his short-cropped hair, then down his face. It had been a long day...
21:49:17 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Zerikolopoli
John stood in a doorway across from the restaurant, finishing a cigarette and killing time before the meet. He'd exchanged his baseball hat for the knit cap from his satchel and had his collar turned up against the cold. The place across the street was quiet, with few patrons entering or leaving at this hour. The building itself seemed well-kept and was decorated in a pseudo-mediterranean fashion. A patio for outdoor seating was closed for the winter.
Taking one final drag, John removed the cigarette from his mouth and flicked the smoking butt into the night. Shuddering against the cold, he completed a final sweep of the area, putting his cybereye's zoom and thermographic features to good use. Satisfied, he quickly crossed the street and entered the restaurant.
The inside was decorated much like the exterior, complete with shutters framing faux windows, their painted landscapes showing lush, rolling hills. Other surfaces were decorated with painted grape-vines or framed pictures of various ruined buildings or statues. A bar area was set off to one side, with small tables for waiting patrons. The dining area could be seen further back. As John watched, a waiter approached a table of five carrying several small trays. With a flourish and a cry of "Opa!" the waiter held a lighter to the trays.
As the dishes burst into flame, John flinched, but managed to stop himself before reaching for one of his concealed Colts. As the flames died down, and the daring waiter began to deposit the dishes onto the table, the old runner heard the bartender ask, "Hoi, chummer. Need some help?"
Turning towards the man with a final glance towards the dining area, John approached the bar. Carefully making his way through the small tables, he said, "Yeah. Got reservations for 22:00. Under Ranger."
16:07:41 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Ludmilla's right hand, now turned into a fist, had the whitest of knuckles. She clenched with such force that it began to tremble in a subtle manner. Sascha knew very well that she simply didn't have a choice... refusing would have simply put her into a very uneasy position. Even before she had accepted the job, Ludi knew too much about it... and she would have become a liability for the Vory captain. There was, quite simply, no way out of it.
Her face was blank, showing only a mix of calm and coldness; only slightly disturbed by her clentched jaw. But the woman's eyes told a different story than that of composure. They burned with anger. They reflected a wrath and desire to cause pain.
The woman took a few slow steps toward Sascha, quite aware of the three other men tensing up around her. But the man she despised so much didn't even flinch. He was safe within this Vory haven, and he knew that no matter what anger flooded Ludi's thoughts, she wouldn't harm him. Not here... not now.
Ludmilla gritted her teeth and spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "You're about to enter dangerous ground, Sascha. Watch your step." She could hear one of the men stir behind her and tensed.
As he spoke again, Ludmilla took a few more slow steps toward him, until she was close enough to touch him. A few years ago, she would have pounded the man into pulp... She needed to keep her temper on a close leash. She started to motion toward the desk as if to pick up the credsticks Sascha had just produced out of his pocket.
Looking sideways, her eyes came upon Sascha's grin.
Lana's face flashed in her mind.
Ludi snapped.
The hands she had been extending toward the desk jerked toward Sascha's neck, grabbing a hold of his collar. As she violently pulled on the man's shirt, the distinct sound of fabric slightly tearing could be heard.
In a split second, the Vory man was out of his chair, and within an inch of Ludi's face. She could here weapons being drawn around her, but she didn't care. Both her arms were shaking, as she spoke in the same low and threatening tone.
"Don't you dare get all high and mighty on me Sascha. You see this? See where I have you? Don't frag with me Sascha. My loyalties are my own, and they lie where they should... Don't make the mistake of thinking that they actually extend to you."
She brought him even closer to her face, until her nose almost touched his cheek.
"You thread on very dangerous grounds... Don't ever mention my family again. If I ever see you or any of your lackeys within a mile of my daughter, you will be in such a world of pain that Hell will seem like a liberation of torments I will bring down upon you."
Her eyes stayed locked on his for a few seconds, as silence filled the room.
Slowly, blood starting rushing back to her knuckles as she let go his collar.
Ludmilla's right hand, now turned into a fist, had the whitest of knuckles. She clenched with such force that it began to tremble in a subtle manner. Sascha knew very well that she simply didn't have a choice... refusing would have simply put her into a very uneasy position. Even before she had accepted the job, Ludi knew too much about it... and she would have become a liability for the Vory captain. There was, quite simply, no way out of it.
Her face was blank, showing only a mix of calm and coldness; only slightly disturbed by her clentched jaw. But the woman's eyes told a different story than that of composure. They burned with anger. They reflected a wrath and desire to cause pain.
The woman took a few slow steps toward Sascha, quite aware of the three other men tensing up around her. But the man she despised so much didn't even flinch. He was safe within this Vory haven, and he knew that no matter what anger flooded Ludi's thoughts, she wouldn't harm him. Not here... not now.
Ludmilla gritted her teeth and spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "You're about to enter dangerous ground, Sascha. Watch your step." She could hear one of the men stir behind her and tensed.
As he spoke again, Ludmilla took a few more slow steps toward him, until she was close enough to touch him. A few years ago, she would have pounded the man into pulp... She needed to keep her temper on a close leash. She started to motion toward the desk as if to pick up the credsticks Sascha had just produced out of his pocket.
Looking sideways, her eyes came upon Sascha's grin.
Lana's face flashed in her mind.
Ludi snapped.
The hands she had been extending toward the desk jerked toward Sascha's neck, grabbing a hold of his collar. As she violently pulled on the man's shirt, the distinct sound of fabric slightly tearing could be heard.
In a split second, the Vory man was out of his chair, and within an inch of Ludi's face. She could here weapons being drawn around her, but she didn't care. Both her arms were shaking, as she spoke in the same low and threatening tone.
"Don't you dare get all high and mighty on me Sascha. You see this? See where I have you? Don't frag with me Sascha. My loyalties are my own, and they lie where they should... Don't make the mistake of thinking that they actually extend to you."
She brought him even closer to her face, until her nose almost touched his cheek.
"You thread on very dangerous grounds... Don't ever mention my family again. If I ever see you or any of your lackeys within a mile of my daughter, you will be in such a world of pain that Hell will seem like a liberation of torments I will bring down upon you."
Her eyes stayed locked on his for a few seconds, as silence filled the room.
Slowly, blood starting rushing back to her knuckles as she let go his collar.
22:03:12 Friday, 12 January 2063 - outside 905 West Park Avenue, Tacoma
The outside of the building is rough and worn, covered by gang tags and graffiti. It's address is stenciled in white reflective tape just above the doorway. No lights appear in the window, and no vehicles are parked in the lot next door. Tony does notice a set of concealed security cameras that still appear to be functional, though, one on each corner of the building.
The outside of the building is rough and worn, covered by gang tags and graffiti. It's address is stenciled in white reflective tape just above the doorway. No lights appear in the window, and no vehicles are parked in the lot next door. Tony does notice a set of concealed security cameras that still appear to be functional, though, one on each corner of the building.
13:15:31 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Waterfront, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Eyes sighed audibly. He kept moving forward, stopping a few meters away from the white-eyed kid. He muttered in an undertone to Angela, " I assume he's not looking for you?" He managed a watery grin, "Yeah, thought not." He knew the child was here for him, and had a very good idea of who sent him and probably even why.
No. More. Running. And suddenly, rather than getting spooked, Eyes found himself getting annoyed. The kid was obviously there to deliver a warning, to tell him to stop doing something, or that he was being "watched", or maybe just to stare at him to weird him out. Someone was trying to play with him again, and he wanted nothing to do with it.
Focusing his face into as close a duplicate of the child's face as he could, Eyes glared back. "You are following me," he said in an impassive, but clipped voice. "Why?" Despite the glare, Eyes wasn't really paying much attention to the child himself, but on the surrounding area. It was likely the kid hadn't come alone.
Eyes sighed audibly. He kept moving forward, stopping a few meters away from the white-eyed kid. He muttered in an undertone to Angela, " I assume he's not looking for you?" He managed a watery grin, "Yeah, thought not." He knew the child was here for him, and had a very good idea of who sent him and probably even why.
No. More. Running. And suddenly, rather than getting spooked, Eyes found himself getting annoyed. The kid was obviously there to deliver a warning, to tell him to stop doing something, or that he was being "watched", or maybe just to stare at him to weird him out. Someone was trying to play with him again, and he wanted nothing to do with it.
Focusing his face into as close a duplicate of the child's face as he could, Eyes glared back. "You are following me," he said in an impassive, but clipped voice. "Why?" Despite the glare, Eyes wasn't really paying much attention to the child himself, but on the surrounding area. It was likely the kid hadn't come alone.
16:09:11 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Sascha's eyes widened in surprise as Ludmilla pulled him from his seat and up onto his toes, the smug look vanishing in an instant. However, as she levelled her threats his surprise was slowly replaced by anger. Though his face darkened, the Vory captain never struggled or reacted. He may be larger than the slim woman grasping his collar, but Sascha was well aware that he was no match for her physically.
Apparently, the same couldn't be said of the other men in the room. At almost the same instant that Ludi's scarred hands released their grip on Sascha's tailored collar, she felt the touch of cold steel as one of the bodyguards pressed the business-end of his pistol behind her ear. Thanks to her enhanced hearing, Ludi had heard weapons being drawn as she made her move, but the speed displayed by the bodyguard in closing the distance so quickly was somewhat startling. So he's quicker than me. Big deal. They need me, so no way he shoots. If I can just get a hand on the gun... twist and duck...
"Enough! Leave her be!" For just an instant, as he barked his orders, Ludi got a glimpse of the hardened, savage street punk that Sascha used to be before rising through the Vory ranks. It was said that this was the reason that Mikhail kept the man close even though though they didn't necessarily get along: he knew, no matter how ruthless or unsavory the orders he issued may be, Sascha would see them carried out.
A glimpse was all she got though. Sascha relaxed and straightened, smoothed his suit as much as possible, reached up to pat his hair back into place. He then regarded her out of the corner of his eye as he attempted to rearrange his tie and torn collar. "Tsk. Such a shame. This was a good shirt, and new. Lev, I said enough. Stand down."
As soon as she felt the pistol removed from her neck, Ludi glared over her shoulder as the big man backed away. Though his bearded face betrayed no emotions, she noticed that he didn't holster the weapon. He'd obviously heard of her. With a small, feral grin she turned back in time to see that Sascha had moved over to where the credsticks still sat on the desk. He pointed to first one, then the other. "This one contains your first payment. This one also contains 1000. Use it as a deposit to secure whatever devices you will need. Once you have a working estimate I will secure the remainder of the funds." That said, he backed off a few steps and waved her towards the 'sticks.
Before Ludmilla could move however, Sascha snapped his fingers and smacked his forehead with an open palm. "Wait a second! In all of the excitement and activity it must have slipped my mind, but there is one more thing. You would think that all of the talk of friendship would have jogged my memory, but no." Stepping back over to the idle telecom, he tapped a button and triggered the video feed. Ludi watched the screen as the image of various scantily-clad girls was replaced by a view of a spartan room. An empty chair sat close enough to the telecom on the opposite end of the line that only the back could be seen.
Speaking towards the telecom Sascha said, "Bring him out." He then turned back towards Ludmilla, leaned against the desk, and folded his arms. He seemed relaxed, at ease, though the image was somewhat lessened by his torn shirt. "You'll be happy to know that I ran into an old friend of yours. He'd gotten into some trouble a while back, deep trouble, and had to stay low and out of sight. Don't worry though, he's staying with some friends of mine for now. He's quite safe."
Ludi watched the screen as a small man was bodily shoved into the chair by two goons wearing shoulder-holstered pistols. The small man was hunched forward, his scraggly hair obscuring his face. After a short pause, one of the others grasped him by the hair, roughly pulling his head back. Ludi could feel herself go cold as realization dawned. Sascha smiled cruelly.
"Ah! I see you still recognize your old friend Yuri..."
Sascha's eyes widened in surprise as Ludmilla pulled him from his seat and up onto his toes, the smug look vanishing in an instant. However, as she levelled her threats his surprise was slowly replaced by anger. Though his face darkened, the Vory captain never struggled or reacted. He may be larger than the slim woman grasping his collar, but Sascha was well aware that he was no match for her physically.
Apparently, the same couldn't be said of the other men in the room. At almost the same instant that Ludi's scarred hands released their grip on Sascha's tailored collar, she felt the touch of cold steel as one of the bodyguards pressed the business-end of his pistol behind her ear. Thanks to her enhanced hearing, Ludi had heard weapons being drawn as she made her move, but the speed displayed by the bodyguard in closing the distance so quickly was somewhat startling. So he's quicker than me. Big deal. They need me, so no way he shoots. If I can just get a hand on the gun... twist and duck...
"Enough! Leave her be!" For just an instant, as he barked his orders, Ludi got a glimpse of the hardened, savage street punk that Sascha used to be before rising through the Vory ranks. It was said that this was the reason that Mikhail kept the man close even though though they didn't necessarily get along: he knew, no matter how ruthless or unsavory the orders he issued may be, Sascha would see them carried out.
A glimpse was all she got though. Sascha relaxed and straightened, smoothed his suit as much as possible, reached up to pat his hair back into place. He then regarded her out of the corner of his eye as he attempted to rearrange his tie and torn collar. "Tsk. Such a shame. This was a good shirt, and new. Lev, I said enough. Stand down."
As soon as she felt the pistol removed from her neck, Ludi glared over her shoulder as the big man backed away. Though his bearded face betrayed no emotions, she noticed that he didn't holster the weapon. He'd obviously heard of her. With a small, feral grin she turned back in time to see that Sascha had moved over to where the credsticks still sat on the desk. He pointed to first one, then the other. "This one contains your first payment. This one also contains 1000
. Use it as a deposit to secure whatever devices you will need. Once you have a working estimate I will secure the remainder of the funds." That said, he backed off a few steps and waved her towards the 'sticks.Before Ludmilla could move however, Sascha snapped his fingers and smacked his forehead with an open palm. "Wait a second! In all of the excitement and activity it must have slipped my mind, but there is one more thing. You would think that all of the talk of friendship would have jogged my memory, but no." Stepping back over to the idle telecom, he tapped a button and triggered the video feed. Ludi watched the screen as the image of various scantily-clad girls was replaced by a view of a spartan room. An empty chair sat close enough to the telecom on the opposite end of the line that only the back could be seen.
Speaking towards the telecom Sascha said, "Bring him out." He then turned back towards Ludmilla, leaned against the desk, and folded his arms. He seemed relaxed, at ease, though the image was somewhat lessened by his torn shirt. "You'll be happy to know that I ran into an old friend of yours. He'd gotten into some trouble a while back, deep trouble, and had to stay low and out of sight. Don't worry though, he's staying with some friends of mine for now. He's quite safe."
Ludi watched the screen as a small man was bodily shoved into the chair by two goons wearing shoulder-holstered pistols. The small man was hunched forward, his scraggly hair obscuring his face. After a short pause, one of the others grasped him by the hair, roughly pulling his head back. Ludi could feel herself go cold as realization dawned. Sascha smiled cruelly.
"Ah! I see you still recognize your old friend Yuri..."
16:10:33 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Recognize him? I killed to protect him... I killed four men...
It took a few seconds for her to realize that she had leaned forward toward the screen... as if to convince herself that her eyes weren't betraying her. Straigthening back up, she tried to sound indifferent and detached.
"He was your friend before he was mine. What the frag took you so long to find him?"
She pocketed both credsticks, turning her face away from the screen.
"Why the frag are you showing me this... I've already told the bosses everything I knew about that fragged up exchange."
Recognize him? I killed to protect him... I killed four men...
It took a few seconds for her to realize that she had leaned forward toward the screen... as if to convince herself that her eyes weren't betraying her. Straigthening back up, she tried to sound indifferent and detached.
"He was your friend before he was mine. What the frag took you so long to find him?"
She pocketed both credsticks, turning her face away from the screen.
"Why the frag are you showing me this... I've already told the bosses everything I knew about that fragged up exchange."
16:11:08 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
"That is true. I have heard the story myself. An unexpected double-cross by the buyer and the resulting firefight. Brutal from all accounts. You did admirably, of course, managing to save both the product and your team leader. In the process, two of our men and four members of the treacherous Dezzert Dogz go-gang were killed. You were even wounded.
"However, according to Yuri here," Sascha waves his hand at the telecom, "there is more to the situation. At first he was just happy to get out alive, but a story on a trid newscast a few days later changed his mind."
As he spoke, Sascha reached over to remove a bottle of vodka and a small glass from beside the telecom. He unscrewed the top and poured himself a stiff drink as he continued.
"You're a smart girl. If an idiot like Yuri managed to make the connection it should have been no problem for you. In that case the question is: did you intentionally leave information out of your report, or did you yourself not know the entire truth at the time?
"Not that it matters. Either way you are left in a very, very difficult position, my dear. You either do as I say, when I say, all while keeping your nose down and your mouth shut, or I turn Yuri over to our superiors and send an anonymous tip into Lone Star... All of which leaves me in a very good position, wouldn't you agree?"
Saluting Ludi with the glass, the Vory captain gulped-down the drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"That is true. I have heard the story myself. An unexpected double-cross by the buyer and the resulting firefight. Brutal from all accounts. You did admirably, of course, managing to save both the product and your team leader. In the process, two of our men and four members of the treacherous Dezzert Dogz go-gang were killed. You were even wounded.
"However, according to Yuri here," Sascha waves his hand at the telecom, "there is more to the situation. At first he was just happy to get out alive, but a story on a trid newscast a few days later changed his mind."
As he spoke, Sascha reached over to remove a bottle of vodka and a small glass from beside the telecom. He unscrewed the top and poured himself a stiff drink as he continued.
"You're a smart girl. If an idiot like Yuri managed to make the connection it should have been no problem for you. In that case the question is: did you intentionally leave information out of your report, or did you yourself not know the entire truth at the time?
"Not that it matters. Either way you are left in a very, very difficult position, my dear. You either do as I say, when I say, all while keeping your nose down and your mouth shut, or I turn Yuri over to our superiors and send an anonymous tip into Lone Star... All of which leaves me in a very good position, wouldn't you agree?"
Saluting Ludi with the glass, the Vory captain gulped-down the drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
21:37:50 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Fall Inn, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
"You really didn't have to walk me out," Karma tells Marquis, again.
"It's no problem, really."
"I can take care of myself, you know."
"I didnt mean to imply otherwise, Im just being a gentleman," Marq replies somewhat on the defense.
"Dont be too nice, it can get you hurt. Some might see it as a sign of weakness," she kindly warns.
"Do you?" He inquires.
"No, no, no, not me...just, you say you may have a few new enemies..."
A short silence falls between the two walking through the parking lot. Then she continues, "Actually, I think its sweet...nice. Old-fashioned! Thats it. I havent been 'walked' anywhere since I was in school."
"Fair enough."
"Well here I am," she says as she moves away from Marquis and towards her sleek sports car. A smile comes across Marq's face as he admires the waxed black body of the Westwind.
"Too cold for you bike?"
"Just a bit," She says with a smile. "So I will be waiting at the Last Drop at 1130, watching for a big bald guy, like Mr. Clean."
"Yeah, exactly."
Karma climbs in her car and it shortly roars to life. Marquis finds his way to the Cadillac and shortly follows the Westwind out of the parking lot.
"You really didn't have to walk me out," Karma tells Marquis, again.
"It's no problem, really."
"I can take care of myself, you know."
"I didnt mean to imply otherwise, Im just being a gentleman," Marq replies somewhat on the defense.
"Dont be too nice, it can get you hurt. Some might see it as a sign of weakness," she kindly warns.
"Do you?" He inquires.
"No, no, no, not me...just, you say you may have a few new enemies..."
A short silence falls between the two walking through the parking lot. Then she continues, "Actually, I think its sweet...nice. Old-fashioned! Thats it. I havent been 'walked' anywhere since I was in school."
"Fair enough."
"Well here I am," she says as she moves away from Marquis and towards her sleek sports car. A smile comes across Marq's face as he admires the waxed black body of the Westwind.
"Too cold for you bike?"
"Just a bit," She says with a smile. "So I will be waiting at the Last Drop at 1130, watching for a big bald guy, like Mr. Clean."
"Yeah, exactly."
Karma climbs in her car and it shortly roars to life. Marquis finds his way to the Cadillac and shortly follows the Westwind out of the parking lot.
13:10:44 Thursday 11 January 2063- Intercity Five, North bound lane, Seattle, UCAS
The rest of Ivan’s trip back to his doss passes uneventfully, if slowly. He didn’t see anyone try to follow him, and the frequent knots and tangles in the traffic gave him plenty of opportunity to view the cars. What the ride was though, was cold. Father Winter’s grip on the Sprawl didn’t seem to have loosened any, and the mostly overcast day promised at least an additional flurry, if not another outright blizzard. He’d seen clouds like this before, and they’d done both.
Ivan himself didn’t mind the wind gusting in off the Sound and chill that seeped around his tightly wrapped duster, though. Who saw any of the buckaroos in the films ever show that they were cold? He hadn’t, that was for sure. So he took the ride stoically, though he did promise himself a hot meal when he got home out of the traffic. Assuming that these rubberneckers would ever move from the guy changing his tire? ‘Yobtovau mat!’ he thought, as he actually pulls up to this particular holdup.
13:22:57 Thursday 11 January 2063- One Block north of Ivan’s Apartment, South Seattle, UCAS
As Ivan came up to the light a block from the basement apartment, he saw them. Two of them, actually; an ork and a human, lounging against a car a few meters from the still unlocked door to his apartment. Neither one appeared to be looking in his direction yet, as he’d idled down the last block to keep from sliding to a stop at this light.
The rest of Ivan’s trip back to his doss passes uneventfully, if slowly. He didn’t see anyone try to follow him, and the frequent knots and tangles in the traffic gave him plenty of opportunity to view the cars. What the ride was though, was cold. Father Winter’s grip on the Sprawl didn’t seem to have loosened any, and the mostly overcast day promised at least an additional flurry, if not another outright blizzard. He’d seen clouds like this before, and they’d done both.
Ivan himself didn’t mind the wind gusting in off the Sound and chill that seeped around his tightly wrapped duster, though. Who saw any of the buckaroos in the films ever show that they were cold? He hadn’t, that was for sure. So he took the ride stoically, though he did promise himself a hot meal when he got home out of the traffic. Assuming that these rubberneckers would ever move from the guy changing his tire? ‘Yobtovau mat!’ he thought, as he actually pulls up to this particular holdup.
13:22:57 Thursday 11 January 2063- One Block north of Ivan’s Apartment, South Seattle, UCAS
As Ivan came up to the light a block from the basement apartment, he saw them. Two of them, actually; an ork and a human, lounging against a car a few meters from the still unlocked door to his apartment. Neither one appeared to be looking in his direction yet, as he’d idled down the last block to keep from sliding to a stop at this light.
16:11:57 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Listening to Sascha’s retelling of the events made Ludmilla shiver. Her left hand absent-mindedly went over her right side, as if she was trying to protect some imaginary wound. As she spoke, she turned her head away from the man, as if scanning the room.
“Well, you seem to have you facts straight enough…” she let out, punctuating her statement with a heavy sigh. Sascha was going round and round, which was starting to seriously annoy the woman. It was when he mention the “trid newscast” that Ludmilla’s growing boredom was rapidly replaced by anger.
Her jaw clenched, her brow frowned and her fists closed. Ludmilla’s head snapped back around, her full attention focusing back to Sascha.
“Go frag yourself Sascha! It’s not like it was written on his fragging forehead! I was just defending myself from some ganger. The trid reporters turned the fact all around… you think the Star was about to reveal they had an undercover amongst the gang? It was a fragging inside job and you know it!”
She crossed her arms across her chest.
Hearing Sascha’s threat, the second of the day, only fuelled her anger even more. Now, he wasn’t just threatening her… he was blackmailing her. He was leaving her no choice…
Death only brings more death.
“That's the second time you threaten me… don’t push your luck too far. And I don’t think you’d be stupid enough to turn me in.”
She uncrossed her arms, trying to calm down.
“You got where you are because you’re rather clever… and I know that. Putting the Star on my trail takes them a step closer to you and the whole Vory. Somehow, I think you’re clever enough not to make such a foolish mistakes.”
Opening her palms back up, she could feel her knuckles starting to hurt.
“No matter how much you don’t like me, you need me. If something does happen to me, you know others will get very curious. Not just the cops, Sascha. Loyalty goes both ways, you know? If I was you, I’d rather start to look at who was aware of the meet. They knew everything about it, down to who was there… they knew everything… except about me. There’s a rat amongst us. Your time would be better spent looking for him, rather than wasting in on trying to intimidate me.”
Picking her shapka back up, Ludmilla spat on the floor, just close enough to Sascha, and then turned her back on him. Her hands went back into her pockets, wrapping around the taser. Her left one nonchalantly swung back and forth as she walked toward the room’s only door.
“I’ll call you.”
As the door got closer and closer, things around her started to slow down. Time slowed down. Her left hand twitched slightly as the wired reflexes kicked in.
Please God, protect me from harm. Let me walk out of this room without bloodshed. Please.
In silence, Ludmilla prayed that Sascha didn’t make her draw. Once she'd be out of the room, she'd be safe enough for some time. She'd have to find Yuri, and fast. Maybe she'd have to kill him... Maybe she'd have to kill Sascha...
I just want to go home…
Listening to Sascha’s retelling of the events made Ludmilla shiver. Her left hand absent-mindedly went over her right side, as if she was trying to protect some imaginary wound. As she spoke, she turned her head away from the man, as if scanning the room.
“Well, you seem to have you facts straight enough…” she let out, punctuating her statement with a heavy sigh. Sascha was going round and round, which was starting to seriously annoy the woman. It was when he mention the “trid newscast” that Ludmilla’s growing boredom was rapidly replaced by anger.
Her jaw clenched, her brow frowned and her fists closed. Ludmilla’s head snapped back around, her full attention focusing back to Sascha.
“Go frag yourself Sascha! It’s not like it was written on his fragging forehead! I was just defending myself from some ganger. The trid reporters turned the fact all around… you think the Star was about to reveal they had an undercover amongst the gang? It was a fragging inside job and you know it!”
She crossed her arms across her chest.
Hearing Sascha’s threat, the second of the day, only fuelled her anger even more. Now, he wasn’t just threatening her… he was blackmailing her. He was leaving her no choice…
Death only brings more death.
“That's the second time you threaten me… don’t push your luck too far. And I don’t think you’d be stupid enough to turn me in.”
She uncrossed her arms, trying to calm down.
“You got where you are because you’re rather clever… and I know that. Putting the Star on my trail takes them a step closer to you and the whole Vory. Somehow, I think you’re clever enough not to make such a foolish mistakes.”
Opening her palms back up, she could feel her knuckles starting to hurt.
“No matter how much you don’t like me, you need me. If something does happen to me, you know others will get very curious. Not just the cops, Sascha. Loyalty goes both ways, you know? If I was you, I’d rather start to look at who was aware of the meet. They knew everything about it, down to who was there… they knew everything… except about me. There’s a rat amongst us. Your time would be better spent looking for him, rather than wasting in on trying to intimidate me.”
Picking her shapka back up, Ludmilla spat on the floor, just close enough to Sascha, and then turned her back on him. Her hands went back into her pockets, wrapping around the taser. Her left one nonchalantly swung back and forth as she walked toward the room’s only door.
“I’ll call you.”
As the door got closer and closer, things around her started to slow down. Time slowed down. Her left hand twitched slightly as the wired reflexes kicked in.
Please God, protect me from harm. Let me walk out of this room without bloodshed. Please.
In silence, Ludmilla prayed that Sascha didn’t make her draw. Once she'd be out of the room, she'd be safe enough for some time. She'd have to find Yuri, and fast. Maybe she'd have to kill him... Maybe she'd have to kill Sascha...
I just want to go home…
13:30:57 Thursday 11 January 2063- Ivan’s Apartment, South Seattle, UCAS
Boize- freeking-moi. Does it ever be ending? Ivan let his bike coast down to the turn off. It was to late now to just drive by. The front tire slid a little as he negotiated the turn up into his parking lot behind the main building, out of the way from the rest of the complex.
He braked at the last minute enjoying the sliding of the bike as it came to rest in the spot he he called home. He was off his bike in a instant, not wanting to be caught off guard.
Boize- freeking-moi. Does it ever be ending? Ivan let his bike coast down to the turn off. It was to late now to just drive by. The front tire slid a little as he negotiated the turn up into his parking lot behind the main building, out of the way from the rest of the complex.
He braked at the last minute enjoying the sliding of the bike as it came to rest in the spot he he called home. He was off his bike in a instant, not wanting to be caught off guard.
21:59:21 Thursday 11 January 2063 - The I-5, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
The Cadillac rolls through the slush of melting snow on the interstate. The radio is off this time, so Marquis can reflect. Dammit, forgot to ask her about the Red Queen Mufasa. Marq lets out a long sigh, then flicks on the radio, scanning the channel for something fast, loud and rude. He stops on something that sounds like a troll death metal band.
The car speeds up a bit, inspired by the thumping bass, pounding drums, wailing guitar and growling vocals. Almost to its destination the STS slows as it exits the freeway. A couple blocks away, the car rests in a familiar alleyway parking spot, next to Cooper's Firearms. There, protected by its security system, the Cadillac will lay dormant until needed again.
The Cadillac rolls through the slush of melting snow on the interstate. The radio is off this time, so Marquis can reflect. Dammit, forgot to ask her about the Red Queen Mufasa. Marq lets out a long sigh, then flicks on the radio, scanning the channel for something fast, loud and rude. He stops on something that sounds like a troll death metal band.
The car speeds up a bit, inspired by the thumping bass, pounding drums, wailing guitar and growling vocals. Almost to its destination the STS slows as it exits the freeway. A couple blocks away, the car rests in a familiar alleyway parking spot, next to Cooper's Firearms. There, protected by its security system, the Cadillac will lay dormant until needed again.
13:31:30 Thursday 11 January 2063- Ivan’s Apartment, South Seattle, UCAS
Both the ork and the human stood upright as Ivan's bike skidded and crunched to a halt. As he tensed and loosened for a fight, both held their arms out, showing empty hands.
"Cross said you might be edgy. Don't worry, we're not here to hurt you," the ork bringing up the rear said, stopping about 10 meters from where the bike was parked. The human was one meter in front of him.
Both the ork and the human stood upright as Ivan's bike skidded and crunched to a halt. As he tensed and loosened for a fight, both held their arms out, showing empty hands.
"Cross said you might be edgy. Don't worry, we're not here to hurt you," the ork bringing up the rear said, stopping about 10 meters from where the bike was parked. The human was one meter in front of him.
2235.36 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Cooper's Firearms, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Marquis slides the the full clip back into the gold Savalette. The two matching Guardians needed the cleaning after the afternoon action. There is such thing as too clean, but he wanted to at least rid the gun of any carbon that would slow down its mechanics. On top of that, disassembling and reassembling the handguns helped ease some of his anxiety, and helped him focus on the meet.
Picking up a clean cloth, Marquis methodically wiped down the pistol. Every nook and cranny were subject to a thorough cleaning, oil, dirt and carbon smudges completely erased.
Maybe he was thinking too much about this meet. It was abnormal for someone to contact him at home, but it is more likely to be a big job, than a big set up. Looking down at the pistol, he sees its luster and realize hes been cleaning for quite a while. He picks up the second pistol and gives it a quick, but thorough cleaning as well.
Not quick enough, he drifts back into thought. He convinces himself that having Karma there as back up is not overreacting, that much. Especially with his knack for jumping into things with tunnel vision. Even if it costs him a bit, its good to have someone on your side.
Marquis slides the the full clip back into the gold Savalette. The two matching Guardians needed the cleaning after the afternoon action. There is such thing as too clean, but he wanted to at least rid the gun of any carbon that would slow down its mechanics. On top of that, disassembling and reassembling the handguns helped ease some of his anxiety, and helped him focus on the meet.
Picking up a clean cloth, Marquis methodically wiped down the pistol. Every nook and cranny were subject to a thorough cleaning, oil, dirt and carbon smudges completely erased.
Maybe he was thinking too much about this meet. It was abnormal for someone to contact him at home, but it is more likely to be a big job, than a big set up. Looking down at the pistol, he sees its luster and realize hes been cleaning for quite a while. He picks up the second pistol and gives it a quick, but thorough cleaning as well.
Not quick enough, he drifts back into thought. He convinces himself that having Karma there as back up is not overreacting, that much. Especially with his knack for jumping into things with tunnel vision. Even if it costs him a bit, its good to have someone on your side.
22:05:12 Friday, 12 January 2063 - outside 905 West Park Avenue, Tacoma
“And it almost looks like an abandoned building too, perfect for the out of sight bodyshop,” Tony said to under his breath in a realtor’s cadence, surprising himself by talking aloud. The graffiti was well done; artistic, flowing, and completely alien to him other than indicating the presence of at least one gang in the area. The security cams were a dead giveaway to an active operation though. Full perimeter scan. Probably a decent grade security system. Let’s see who shows up in the daylight… he thought to himself, pulling off from his parking spot and turning down the heat; the Auctioneer coat he’d put on at his doss got warm quick.
The drive over had given him time to shift into some sort of game face, to put things he really couldn't affect out of his mind for the moment. Setting the autonav for Bluefish, he let his mind start planning a few things with the building. The act was comforting, and he felt up to another evening with Reign by the time he'd hit the main road out to the club.
“And it almost looks like an abandoned building too, perfect for the out of sight bodyshop,” Tony said to under his breath in a realtor’s cadence, surprising himself by talking aloud. The graffiti was well done; artistic, flowing, and completely alien to him other than indicating the presence of at least one gang in the area. The security cams were a dead giveaway to an active operation though. Full perimeter scan. Probably a decent grade security system. Let’s see who shows up in the daylight… he thought to himself, pulling off from his parking spot and turning down the heat; the Auctioneer coat he’d put on at his doss got warm quick.
The drive over had given him time to shift into some sort of game face, to put things he really couldn't affect out of his mind for the moment. Setting the autonav for Bluefish, he let his mind start planning a few things with the building. The act was comforting, and he felt up to another evening with Reign by the time he'd hit the main road out to the club.
22:02:21 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower
Having gathered the required talisma and links and mentally gone over the ritual in his head Max figured it was a good time to check for any messages. He was still waiting on the Wongs and any information they were able to gather.
Having gathered the required talisma and links and mentally gone over the ritual in his head Max figured it was a good time to check for any messages. He was still waiting on the Wongs and any information they were able to gather.
16:11:57 Thursday 11, January 2063 – The Big Room, "The Bakery", Renton
Though she couldn't see with her back to him, Sascha smiled at Ludi's latest outburst. "Just so you know, we did look into the meet. We found no evidence that the gangers knew anything special in advance. Perhaps they just decided that the price for the chips was more than they were willing to pay? The way that it went down could have been accomplished simply by watching the meet site and sending in their goons when you and your team was in place. Who knows?
"However their little scheme came together one thing is for certain; they obviously underestimated you. I won't make the same mistake, which is why I've left you with little choice but to do as I ask. Don't go and overestimate your own influence or position... or underestimate mine. I assure you that to do so would be unwise."
As she neared the door and triggered her wires, Ludmilla could hear the clink of bottle meeting glass from behind her. When no reply was forthcoming, she said, "I'll call you."
"You do that. Lev, get the door for the lady."
Still not willing to holster the Predator in his left hand, the bearded Lev opened the door with his right. His eyes never left Ludi. She flashed a nasty grin at the man as she passed, though it had little feeling behind it, and stepped out into the hall. As the heavy door thudded closed behind her, she began to tremble with suppressed rage.
Though she couldn't see with her back to him, Sascha smiled at Ludi's latest outburst. "Just so you know, we did look into the meet. We found no evidence that the gangers knew anything special in advance. Perhaps they just decided that the price for the chips was more than they were willing to pay? The way that it went down could have been accomplished simply by watching the meet site and sending in their goons when you and your team was in place. Who knows?
"However their little scheme came together one thing is for certain; they obviously underestimated you. I won't make the same mistake, which is why I've left you with little choice but to do as I ask. Don't go and overestimate your own influence or position... or underestimate mine. I assure you that to do so would be unwise."
As she neared the door and triggered her wires, Ludmilla could hear the clink of bottle meeting glass from behind her. When no reply was forthcoming, she said, "I'll call you."
"You do that. Lev, get the door for the lady."
Still not willing to holster the Predator in his left hand, the bearded Lev opened the door with his right. His eyes never left Ludi. She flashed a nasty grin at the man as she passed, though it had little feeling behind it, and stepped out into the hall. As the heavy door thudded closed behind her, she began to tremble with suppressed rage.
22:19:33 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Bluefish, Tacoma
The crowd waiting to enter the club shivers beneath the wind cutting down from the Sound, huddled together by the string of propane heaters lining the walkway. The Lone Star officers present for crowd control bunker in their squad cars, hands warming themselves on coffee cups. It was unlikely that tempers would flare hot in this weather.
Inside, though, the temperature is a comfortable warm thanks to the heat generated by the overhead lights and lasers as well as the frenetic energy from the dancefloor. With his coat unbuttoned but still draped over his shoulders, Tony leans against the bar and sips from his drink. The alcohol will chase the chill of the night from him eventually. Nodding his thanks to the bartender, he turns and scans across the crowd assembled on the second floor of Bluefish.
The weekend has brought all the freaks out to play, the railing overlooking the dancefloor lined with bodies dressed in leather and latex. There's no sign of Reign, though, and Tony confronts the possibility that despite his earlier warning she may have already left. A stir at the top of the stairs proves his suspicions unfounded, and his breath catches as the crowd parts to reveal her.
Once again, Reign's costume is an exotic blend of ancient and modern, a vision no sheik or sultan could have dreamed of. Instead of a belt of coins chained together, her skirt of diaphanous black and crimson silk panels hangs from a woven band of clear fiber optic wire. The wire lacing began at the outside curve of her hips and continued up to her narrow waist, drawn tight enough that the individual threads dimpled the skin when she swayed outward against them. Her skirt swirled around her, the black silk almost transparent to the deeper red beneath. Neither fabric did a significant job of blocking the view of her muscular legs, or the sandals that laced calf high. Her choli was constructed in a similar fashion, although this time the wire lacing ran around her torso, up across her shoulders, to form a complex woven collar around her throat. Although drawn tight to the lacing, the silk panels of her top fluttered loosely at their edges, offering teasing glimpses of naked flesh. Bowing to tradition, the edges of her belt and choli are adorned with silver coins. Her hair, pulled back from her face by a simple silver band, hangs free down her shoulders.
She poses demurely for a moment to allow Tony to appreciate the care with which she's dressed for him tonight, her hands clasped at the small of her back, her left foot slightly forward. Then, with a wicked smile on her face, her body catches the rhythm of the music. Her hips swirl, counterpointed by her shoulders a beat behind, her arms snake around her body before spinning loose. Once again Tony marvels at the fluid agility of her body, and how she is perfectly in control even though her dance is breathlessly wanton. Laserlight flicks across her from the overheads, and for an instant all of the fiber optic wire in her costume illuminates, turning her into a blazing sapphire ghost. The effect is gone so quickly only the stunning visual purple afterimages testify to its reality.
She dances within arms reach now, and it's all Tony can do to restrain himself from reaching out and crushing her to him. Faces hover at the periphery of his vision, though, radiant hunger and jealousy painted on them. Reign smiles, aware of the effect she's having on the crowd, but focused on just a single individual. As the music crescendoes and the beat dies to a slower pulse, she winds herself into Tony's arms, laying her claim with a kiss of hungry intensity. She smiles, cheeks flush and eyes alight.
"Hiya, stranger."
The crowd waiting to enter the club shivers beneath the wind cutting down from the Sound, huddled together by the string of propane heaters lining the walkway. The Lone Star officers present for crowd control bunker in their squad cars, hands warming themselves on coffee cups. It was unlikely that tempers would flare hot in this weather.
Inside, though, the temperature is a comfortable warm thanks to the heat generated by the overhead lights and lasers as well as the frenetic energy from the dancefloor. With his coat unbuttoned but still draped over his shoulders, Tony leans against the bar and sips from his drink. The alcohol will chase the chill of the night from him eventually. Nodding his thanks to the bartender, he turns and scans across the crowd assembled on the second floor of Bluefish.
The weekend has brought all the freaks out to play, the railing overlooking the dancefloor lined with bodies dressed in leather and latex. There's no sign of Reign, though, and Tony confronts the possibility that despite his earlier warning she may have already left. A stir at the top of the stairs proves his suspicions unfounded, and his breath catches as the crowd parts to reveal her.
Once again, Reign's costume is an exotic blend of ancient and modern, a vision no sheik or sultan could have dreamed of. Instead of a belt of coins chained together, her skirt of diaphanous black and crimson silk panels hangs from a woven band of clear fiber optic wire. The wire lacing began at the outside curve of her hips and continued up to her narrow waist, drawn tight enough that the individual threads dimpled the skin when she swayed outward against them. Her skirt swirled around her, the black silk almost transparent to the deeper red beneath. Neither fabric did a significant job of blocking the view of her muscular legs, or the sandals that laced calf high. Her choli was constructed in a similar fashion, although this time the wire lacing ran around her torso, up across her shoulders, to form a complex woven collar around her throat. Although drawn tight to the lacing, the silk panels of her top fluttered loosely at their edges, offering teasing glimpses of naked flesh. Bowing to tradition, the edges of her belt and choli are adorned with silver coins. Her hair, pulled back from her face by a simple silver band, hangs free down her shoulders.
She poses demurely for a moment to allow Tony to appreciate the care with which she's dressed for him tonight, her hands clasped at the small of her back, her left foot slightly forward. Then, with a wicked smile on her face, her body catches the rhythm of the music. Her hips swirl, counterpointed by her shoulders a beat behind, her arms snake around her body before spinning loose. Once again Tony marvels at the fluid agility of her body, and how she is perfectly in control even though her dance is breathlessly wanton. Laserlight flicks across her from the overheads, and for an instant all of the fiber optic wire in her costume illuminates, turning her into a blazing sapphire ghost. The effect is gone so quickly only the stunning visual purple afterimages testify to its reality.
She dances within arms reach now, and it's all Tony can do to restrain himself from reaching out and crushing her to him. Faces hover at the periphery of his vision, though, radiant hunger and jealousy painted on them. Reign smiles, aware of the effect she's having on the crowd, but focused on just a single individual. As the music crescendoes and the beat dies to a slower pulse, she winds herself into Tony's arms, laying her claim with a kiss of hungry intensity. She smiles, cheeks flush and eyes alight.
"Hiya, stranger."
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