|
|
Post by Angelica Dubrinsky on Sept 22, 2008 20:18:06 GMT -5
She was in route to meet her next client. A gun smuggler. He was wanting to get his goods in, without the Sword of Damocles or the Red Mafia knowing about it. Angel leaped at the chance to slit the throat of her father's group. She still blamed him for her getting shot at back in Moscow and the revenged was sweeter when served without money. She was meeting him down in the subway area, at a small cafè there. She walked down the stairs, her stiletto heels clicking all the way down. She was dressed like a supermodel. It was how Angelica liked to look.
She walked out of the stairs area, walking towards the cafè down there. Her body moved and sway with her walk. The bell on the door jingled as she walked in. She smiled to the waitress and took a seat at a back booth. Now, it was a waiting game. She had arrived early. Somethings about a Mafia Princess would never change.
[/size]
|
|
|
|
Post by Opie Damocles on Sept 23, 2008 9:41:25 GMT -5
Opie didn't have to be in New York long to catch wind of the underhanded happenings there. Macimo had called him with problems in Harlem they needed to take care of, and apparently it had been a small gun and drugs smuggling operation coming up from Canada and merely using Harlem as a New York medium. That was always the problem with the smaller gangs: while they weren't powerful enough to launch a war, they were ignorant of the power of larger organizations and the consequences of their actions. Fortunately Macimo had taken some of his boys down to Harlem and found out what these amateurs were going to do next. Without alarming the gang themselves, Opie's eldest brother discovered that there was going to be a trade off near the subway. However, the petty gun smugglers and drug dealers would have a premature end to their business meeting. Approaching the small garage that was supposedly the gang's little warehouse, Opie was followed by twenty or so heavily armed men. The gang members inside were caught off guard, and if it wasn't for Opie's plan they would've all been dropped. "No one move, anyone so much as reach for a gun and their dead."Opie said as he made his way over to one of the crates in the garage. Prying the lid open with a crowbar, Opie saw a large array of M4's and Glocks. Shaking his head, he turned and nodded to a large man carrying a street sweeper. "Get them all on their knees, hands tied behind their backs so they don't try anything. I'm going to have a talk with them. You know, man to man."
The gargantuan bodyguard did as he was told, forcing the men to their knees and binding their hands with fishing wire. Once all seven were bound, Opie pulled out a silenced Lightweight Colt Commander and stepped to each one of them. It only took one bullet in the head to kill one, but he used three for good measure. Interrogating each one slightly to get the specifics of the meeting, Opie rid them of their pathetic lives for crossing the Sword of Damocles. After a few short and silent seconds, the men were dead. "If this smuggler bitch knows my face, then she'll know she's caught. If not, then she won't know she's caught. Call Mikhail and tell him whats going on. Gun operations are his business too, so he should have a say so in how this person dies." ========One hour later. The Cafe.======= The appropriate plans had been made already, in a relatively short amount of time. Men were stationed around the subway like they were attempting a prison break. According to Macimo, these small time thugs weren't the only ones who had been sneaking merchandise through. Therefore, in Opie's mind at least, someone was helping them and he knew that there wouldn't be too many people to do that. So if they were supposed to meet the person who was going to help them smuggle merchandise through New York, he was sure this was the person who had been doing it in the past. Armed with a Heckler and Koch MP5-K and two silenced Lightweight Colt Commanders, (all the weapons expertly concealed), Opie made his way into the cafe. He had a briefcase in one hand and the other was empty, and was merely waiting for Mikhail to arrive from Little Odessa, which wouldn't take long at all. The Cafe was virtually empty, with a few people sitting at the counter, and one lone female in a black booth without any beverage or food in front of her. Slightly odd, seeing as how she was in a cafe. Shutting off the security cameras, Opie made his way over to her booth and sat opposite her so that they were facing eachother. "You weren't followed were you?" Opie asked simply. Apparently the gang and the girl hadn't met in person yet, and seeing as how Opie was usually in Nevada or L.A (his brother running New York), it was highly unlikely this girl would recognize him. |
|
|
|
Post by Angelica Dubrinsky on Sept 23, 2008 11:22:45 GMT -5
Angelica looked up to see a man sitting there. Her eyes looked deep into his, as she tried to read from them what he was like. There was not much there to begin with. She looked back down at the newspaper she had been reading.
"Depends on your definition of followed, actually. I am always followed." She said, not looking up from the paper. Her voice held the hint of a former Russian accent, but she had long been trying to get rid of it. She closed the paper and looked up at him.
"So, what's the package? And what is the bargin?" She said. When she has spoke with the man, his voice had bee different, she was feeling. She had told him how she talked in public, different from anyone of the other gangs. Angelica slowed time a bit, to look about the Cafè and out in the subway area. Men posted, shit. Something had gotten compromised. She would have to ride this one out. She let go of her hold on time, her eyes seeming as if they never left his.
[/size]
|
|
|
|
Post by Opie Damocles on Sept 23, 2008 11:49:49 GMT -5
Opie raised an eyebrow when she said that she was always followed. It didn't make a difference to him as there weren't any police in this city who would start trouble with a Sword, and if she was followed by other gang members it was the same story. The last time anyone engaged the Sword in a war was still fresh on the minds of any who were going to attempt fighting them, and the still freshly deceased bodies of the boys from Harlem would get around within a few days.
"We have some cargo that we need to get rid of without trouble from the RM or Sword. A few M4's, Glock 9's, and HK's. Obviously I couldn't bring all of it with me, unless I wanted to hit ATF's radar the second I left the garage. I'll take you there and you can inspect the merchandise."
Opie hadn't noticed she was a mutant at all. Fortunately for her, Opie's gaze was diverted when she manipulated time, otherwise (due to contrast of the motion of things around her) she would've appeared to be moving faster than humanely possible.
|
|
|
|
Post by Angelica Dubrinsky on Sept 23, 2008 12:48:50 GMT -5
She knew something was wrong. She told the guy over the phone to not mention any types of weapons in their run. She didn't look scared at all, instead she looked calmly at him, and in her native tongue of Russian she said a simple phrase.
"Compromised Situation." She stood up, with her bag in hand. She went to walk out. She knew that she was in danger. She gathered what energy she could and got ready to stop time all together. She wanted out of here. Something was wrong. How had the Sword or the RM found out about all this. They could not have identified her that easily. The small time runners. They had been caught. She made her way quickly to the door.
[/size]
|
|
|
|
Post by Opie Damocles on Sept 23, 2008 13:46:52 GMT -5
Opie stood up as soon as she had. Without any sign of him doing so, the electric locks clicked into place and the doors weren't able to be opened, from inside or out. The men outside were ready for her to either start running or start shooting. The main entry/exit was blocked by both the locks and the men, leaving the fire escape stairwell the only way out of the small coffee shop. The fire alarm started blaring and the sprinklers activated. People ran out of the cafe through the fire escape, which while it wasn't blocked from the outside, there were men outside ready for an escape.
Mikhail was on his way, but how close Opie did not know. Pulling out his silenced sub-machine gun, he spoke over the roar of the alarm and ignored the water pouring down over him.
"Don't move. You can run and I'll still find you. The doors are locked, and the only other exit is safeguarded. Rest assured, I can and will find you if you run. There's no escaping that."
|
|
|
|
Post by Angelica Dubrinsky on Sept 24, 2008 13:23:54 GMT -5
Angelica stopped, looking back over her shoulder. He had a gun on her. Her eyes held fear this time. She was dealing with the very dangerous end of her father's world, now. And without her father's permission. Angelica turned fully around, the water making her hair stick to her and her clothes form fit. She looked at him, her eyes half fear, half determination.
"You don't want to do that, sir. Trust me, that is the last move you will make." She looked him dead in the eyes, a seriousness sweeping across her eyes. She was not playing. Not now, not when her life was on the line. She stared him down, like he was some great opponent. She could feel the power ready, and she would let it loose the moment he pulled that trigger.
"Trust me when I say letting me walk away now is in your best interest." It was the last thing she wanted to say to this bastard. A man that held her at gun point. She just hoped she would not have to do what she felt was coming.
[/size]
|
|
|
|
Post by Opie Damocles on Sept 24, 2008 14:17:58 GMT -5
Opie stared her back dead in the eyes, the water from the sprinklers raining down on the two of them. The fear in her eyes wasn't hard to detect, he had seen it many times in his life. Hell, he had seen it an hour earlier in a storage garage on the faces of the now deceased gunrunners. However, there was something different about this apparent bluff. There was some form of tenacity in her words and that was odd for someone trying to plea for their lives. Without any indicator, the security cameras clicked back on and rotated to where they were fixated on Angel. If she did manage to make it out of there alive, he would need a video image of her face to disperse amongst his men. "You're really in no position to bargain, you know that? And I doubt letting you walk away is in my best interests. There is no one that will seek to avenge you against the Sword, and if there is someone they will die. Sit down. We can both be civilized." ====Outside==== "Mr. Embi, things have taken a turn. We're armed and ready to fire. Mr. Damocles is inside with a gun on the girl." "Whats the address?" Mikhail's voice replied quickly. The grunt on the other end of the phone replied hastily and Mikhail nodded. "Stay on the line. I'll be a second." Mikhail closed his eyes, and his body fell limply to the floor. Now invisible to all, and in a non physical state, the Russian mob boss soared through the limo and into the cool air. While astrally projecting, everything was viewed in a negative light as if the sun had reversed to a blacklight. Flying at an abstract speed. Soaring through the roof of the cafe and into the lobby, Mikhail's eyes grew wide as he saw Angelica. Turning and rushing back as quickly as he could to his body, Mikhail sat back up and grabbed the phone, shouting back into it. "Don't shoot her! Just stall! I'm on my way, I'll be there soon." With a click, he threw the phone back into his pocket. |
|
|
|
Post by Angelica Dubrinsky on Sept 24, 2008 15:35:39 GMT -5
She watched this guy. He couldn't be, perhaps, the leader of the Sword himself. She had been a fool to think that little operation could hold their own against the Sword. By now, they were all dead and she had walked into a trap. She looked at him, her eyes intense, as he told her to sit, they could be civilized. She was betting on her death if she cooperated, death still, if she didn't. The only way out as to stop all time, and get out quickly. She could only hold if for a short period of time. She looked at the clock. If she ran, she could get out of the subway area, before her power wore off. But, that would still leave her vulnerable. Once her power drained her down with the time stop, she would have to rest to recharge. It would be difficult. She moved towards the nearest booth, watching him.
"What is to say you won't kill me, even if I cooperate. I don't you gave the same choice to my clients, Mr. Damocles is it?" She was taking a chance. If it was not him, then it was someone within the organization. Someone he would have trusted to get the job done. She sat her bag down on the table. Thank god for waterproof materials. Her eyes stayed locked to his. If he made any move, she would see it before it happened. Hopefully.
[/size]
|
|
|
|
Post by Opie Damocles on Sept 24, 2008 16:02:21 GMT -5
Opie kept his gun aimed at her though he did visibly relax. Going closer to the booth, he made sure not to make any sudden move that would startle her into action. What she had up her sleeve he did not know, but he wasn't going to risk it. The sprinklers shut off, as did the fire alarm.
"Well the chances of me killing you if you don't cooperate are much higher." Opie grinned some at Angel, "Congratulations, you know my name. And there is a difference between your dearly departed clients."
Opie lowered the aim of his gun as a sign that he wasn't about to shoot her. Whether or not this would go well for him he did not know.
"Basically, those men had caused trouble solely on my territory. Their deaths were my decision. However, you've caused and equal amount of trouble for some very good friends of mine. So, your death isn't exactly up to me, if you cooperate. Now," He sat down at the booth, MP5K still in hand and eyes still on Angelica, "let's talk. It won't be long, I'm sure."
====Minutes Away from the Cafe====
Mikhail spoke in rapid Russian over the encrypted line. The tone of his voice and expression on his face was making his mood very obvious. On the other line, men serving under the crime lord were quickly doing as they were told. After cursing loudly on the line, Mikhail slammed the phone shut and hopped out of the limo as soon as it stopped at a red light. Reaching to make sure his .22 silenced pistol was in place, he bolted as fast as he could down the street to the cafe. Seeing it in sight, Mikhail prayed he wasn't too late.
|
|
