[u]Fred Macroshelys[/u] The street was quiet and the snow laid soft and undisturbed on the sidewalks as three vehicles, two police cars and a van, pulled into a narrow street of Chinatown and blocked off both exits. While the police cars were your average Black Fall Police Department standard-issue vehicles, the van was not. It was a large SWAT-style van, pitch black with tinted windows and the NEST insignia on both sides near the back. The van contained no sirens, but you could almost feel people moving away from it when it came into proximity. As the convoy of police approached a narrow stone-walled alley, the van stopped and its back doors opened. From out of the van stepped two armored NEST agents clad fully in black and, behind them, Special Agent Fred Macroshelys, a mountain of a meta with a thick black armored shell like that of a snapping turtle. Not only was the man quite large, but he looked as though he were an ancient creature formed in the primordial ooze of the triassic period, a dinosaur, in effect. He wore an upscaled version of the NEST uniform, with a thick kevlar vest covering the front of his shell, a pair of black combat pants to which his comically large pistol was strapped, and armbands with the NEST insignia on his wide biceps. An XXXL combat helmet was strapped to his reptilian head almost comically. The armor was ridiculous and hilarious to behold, and Fred hated it. He would much rather charge into battle with nothing but a pair of shorts on to cover his nether regions and a bulletproof vest, but NEST said that they didn’t want their agents running around under-clothed. The criminal of the day was a man being called “The Magician”, a six-foot-tall African-American male with known ties to the Corvo crime family and several bank robberies around the country. He was a tricky one; back in Nebraska he apparently stabbed a cop to death, and he killed two border police officers with the same knife at the Mexican border. He was a drug runner, they figured out at this point, a low-ranking member of the gang with an appetite for destruction. He most likely had little information on the Corvos to give NEST, but stopping him would wall off the family’s growth into other cities. Unfortunately for him, however, Fred ate knives for breakfast. He stood at the edge of the van as the other four NEST agents moved out to survey the street. The police cars blocked either end of the road and the officers stood at attention, assuring passersby that everything was alright and that it would be a *great* idea for them to move along. Soon after, four more squad cars approached and blocked off alleys at either side. He was holed up inside of the building according to an anonymous tip. Another van of NEST agents approached on an adjacent street; this was the escape team, snipers who would take position on an adjacent building and fire if The Magician tried to make his getaway. “Have you heard much about this guy?” one of the other agents asked Fred. “No, but from what I’ve heard he’s fairly unstable.” Fred replied “We should be alright.” --- (Skip a few minutes because I don’t feel like writing a combat scene right now) The unconscious Magician was practically thrown into the back of an armored transport car and the doors shut behind him with two heavy crashes. Fred cracked his neck loudly as he exited the antique shop with a trash bag over his shoulder. He walked over to a NEST police car and dumped the bag on the front hood, getting the officer’s attention. “What’s that there?” the officer said, exiting the car. “About sixty pounds of individually-packaged lines of cocaine” Fred said “found inside of that building. There’s about two hundred more pounds of it in there.” “Jesus, that’s a lot of dust.” he replied. “Our friend over there was in the process of hiding the packages in the bottom of identical antique vases in order to smuggle them into the hands of street dealers in the Aisle and Dead End.” “Have any been sold thus far?” the officer said, motioning for two other men to help him move the bag into the back of the car. “We don’t know. The boys back at base are going to swing by and take a look at the shop’s records.” Another officer approached and the two together lifted the bag and shoved it into the back of the squad car. “Well I’ll take this back to Headquarters and have it properly documented and locked up.” the officer replied, walking to the front of his black, unmarked Crown Victoria “we don’t want the mob getting their hands on it again.” “Good.” Fred replied “I’m going to stick around here and make sure everything gets taken care of. The Magician is going to be taken into maximum security back at Headquarters. He’s a teleporter.” “Roger that.” the officer said, getting into his car “I’ll take this right over. See you around.” As the car drove off, Fred took his phone from a pocket in his belt and dialed a familiar number. “Good evening, Agent Dragonfly.” Fred said “I’ve found something that you might find interesting down in Chinatown. You might want to see this.” --- [u]Jack Corvo[/u] [hider= Pink Floyd: Money] [youtube]cpbbuaIA3Ds/youtube] [/hider] In another part of town there drove a second black unmarked vehicle. The black luxurious Cadillac drove through the grid-like streets of Westgate, the driver beeping the horn as the rush hour traffic crawled its way through the city. The car made a quick right onto a side street and towards both Arcadia heights and the canals, where Jack Corvo’s new yacht awaited him. It was a ridiculously large water vehicle, 70 meters long with enough room to comfortably fit about 150 overnight guests -there was no point in not spending the night at a Jack Corvo party, afterall; that’s when all the fun happened. As Jack sat in the back bench seat, sprawled across the seats like they were a chaise with his bowler hat over his eyes, his phone began to ring. He was awakened abruptly and looked around groggily to find the phone, which was in the inside pocket of his black cardigan. “Corvo residents.” Jack answered deadpanly. “You don’t own the Corvo residents, boy!” the slightly Italian voice on the other side of the phone barked “I own the Corvo residents!” Jack cracked a wide toothy grin. “Ah, hello father.” Jack replied “How are things?” “Better than usual.” John Corvo Senior replied “I’m just on my way back from having lunch with Wilson Goretti, Damien’s son.” “Oh really? How are they holding up?” “Good, good. I hear Victoria Goretti has moved up around your area for high school. You should swing by her place and say hello sometime.” “Oh good. She’s pretty cute.” “She’s also sixteen you dirty sunnovabitch.” Jack laughed so hard he nearly dropped his glass of scotch. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Good lord, I’m not that perverted!” Jack laughed in response. “Oh please, kid; you and I both know that if I hadn’t called you on it you’d be in that poor girls bed before I could say ‘use protection’.” This encited another laugh from Jack, and John joined in. “So how are things up there, boy?” John said. “Not bad if you mean personally. I’m heading now t-” “Of course I don’t mean personally, boy. I mean where the hell is my money?” Jack could almost hear a growl in his father’s voice, and he sighed just quietly enough for his father to not hear. Jack sat the scotch glass down in a custom-made cupholder and sat up straight, getting down to business. “I’m taking care of it, father.” Jack said “I’ve been running into some trouble with NEST. Something tells me that trying to open up shop in the city containing their headquarters was a bad idea.” “It was also your idea.” John half-growled back. Jack could tell his father was really trying hard not to throttle him through the iPhone screen “Haven’t you been able to strike up any deals?” “Of course I have! The problem is getting it to them. The cops are tight in this town. I hatched a brilliant plan though involving an old antique shop. I’m-” Jack’s voice cut off as he caught sight of what was walking down the street towards the Mean Bean Machine. “Father, I’m going to have to call you back. I forgot about a meeting I had planned.” Jack said. “Alright. We still have a lot to talk about, young man. I want to know that my money is going towards something more useful than a yacht you could land a plane on.” “Alright father. Goodbye.” He hung up and tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Care for some coffee, Alfonso?” “Certainly, sir.” the Italian driver drove a few more feet until he was in front of the Mean bean Machine and pulled into a convenient parallel parking spot on the side of the road. He exited the car and opened the back door for Jack, who, donning his hat and black smoking jacket, stepped out into the cold and walked into the Mean Bean Machine, holding the door open for a certain miss Eva Chilver. [u]Eva Chilver and Jack Corvo[/u] Sometimes Eva hated being pretty. Sure, it got handsome strangers wearing silly hats to open doors for her and made dating a cinch, but the feeling of the eyes watching her like circling hawks as she walked down the street was unsettling, especially for a girl who more than anything would rather be left alone. Even as she whispered a kind “thank you” to the gentleman opening the door for her, she could almost feel his eyes scanning her legs and breasts and his mind mentally undressing her. Maybe it was the shoes. They were gold-colored close-toed heels that made her calves look more toned and h- no, the shoes were too cute to get rid of, and Eva loved the way they clicked across the ground when she walked. It made her feel more confident and professional. As Eva entered the Mean Bean Machine, she stepped to the side next to a small decorative shrub in a terracotta pot to pull out her phone and bask in the warmth of the heating vent above. Immediately, the small shrub perked up and small flower buds began to appear close to Eva. She looked over at it and smiled; seeing that never got old. She pulled her phone out of her purse, a stylish white Vera Bradley which she got as a Christmas present last year and began to type a text, irritated that the person she had come to meet was not present. This, of course, was her twin sister Selena, child of Artemis and perpetually-late motorcycle jerk. [i] “@ coffee shop. Where r u?” [/i] Their plans for the evening were to stop for coffee and a snack and then head for the Christmas Fair, where she was sure Selena would cause some kind of mayhem and she’d have to make everything right. No matter, knowing Selena she wouldn’t show up for another few minutes, so she hit send and decided to get in line. Jack Corvo was two steps ahead of her, already in the process of ordering. He ordered himself what he always got around the holidays, a large peppermint mocha made upside down with a shot of espresso. He paid for the drink and then handed the barista a fifty dollar bill. “For the beautiful blonde two spaces behind me in line.” he said “And keep the change to buy yourself something pretty.” He winked and then went to the other end of the counter to get his drink and, once it was prepared, sat at a round table for two by the window. Eva ordered her own drink, a chai latte, and was quite surprised when the cashier said that a handsome gentleman offered to pay for her beverage until she looked at where the cashier was pointing and saw the same gentleman who had opened the door for her sitting at a table for two. He looked a little too old for her, but it was a kind gesture and he seemed somewhat suave. He nodded at her and she smiled back as she waited for the coffee and the cashier counted the money left over from the fifty dollar bill, stowing it in her pocket while no one was looking. As Eva sat by the counter to get her drink, she noticed a cute younger girl with a Santa hat on. Normally she wasn’t one to start conversations, but she was in a particularly good mood. “That’s a cute hat.” she said kindly but nonchalantly.