Byrd Man

Ultimate One Universe - Year-One Style DC And Marvel Shared Universe

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The Crew – "The Long Good Friday" (A British Noir RP)

City of London
2:40 PM

James Zinkman’s puffy eyes expanded slightly at the sight of his father standing at his doorway.

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet me?” Isaac Zinkman asked. “A month. I haven’t seen you for a month, and your first words are those?”

James sighed and stepped back to let his father into the flat. He was only wearing his skivvies. Isaac took in the flat with disdain. The place was a sty and there were very obvious signs of a party recently being held here. Empty champagne and liquor bottles littered the hardwood floor. Isaac wrinkled his nose at the sight of a used condom strewn across a lampshade.

“Having fun?”

“Living life,” said James, shuffling across the floor towards the kitchen area. “You should try it sometime. All those diamonds aren’t worth a damn thing if they sit behind glass.”

“They’ll always be worth something,” said Isaac. “And they’re not sitting behind glass. Not anymore.”

James look confused as he pulled a can of beer from the fridge and popped its top

“What do you mean?”

“We were robbed last night.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Indeed.”

Isaac stepped into the kitchen and looked at his son. He looked so much like his mother, more so than Adam ever did. It was appropriate, really. Adam was the embodiment of Isaac, hardworking and dedicated. A family man. James was frivolous and coveted flashy things. Very much like Isaac’s now deceased wife. And like his mother, James was dependent upon booze and pills to make it through the day.

“Did you have anything to do with it?”

James looked up from his drink.

“What?! No. Why would you ever think that?”

“Because there are only two people left who know about the store’s security. You and your brother.”

James scowled and stepped forward. He seemed to tower over his father. “Why the fuck are you looking at me? I’m just a bloody salesman. Adam’s the general manager.”

Isaac didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped back towards the door and made his way there. He opened it, letting into the apartment a man who frightened James. It wasn’t that he was big or physically imposing. He was quite average in both height and build, average enough that you could pass him on the street and not think twice. His dark hair was done in a brushcut, short on the sides but longer on the top. A regular bloke. Until you got to the eyes. There was nothing approaching warmth, or humanity there. They seemed to stare right through you, only giving you a cursory glance. As if the man already knew you were a temporary distraction, one that he could easily handle and then move on to the next task.

“James, this is my friend Etan. Etan, James wants to know why you think he helped the people who stole from me.”

“The people who stole from you had access to the security schematics,” Etan said with just the hint of an accent in his speech. Where it was from, James couldn’t tell. It was Eastern European for sure. "Your brother and the security guards are the only ones who can opened the locked file cabinet where those plans are held.”

“See? Then how--”

“The file cabinet keys are missing from Adam’s keyring,” said Isaac. “We discovered that this morning after Etan made his inquiries with the security guards and found they were cleared.”

Etan began to slowly walk towards James. He backed up across the kitchenette until he felt the cold, smooth metal of the fridge against his bare back.

“Those keys were discovered in your desk at work, taped and hidden underneath the drawer."

“Bollocks,” James yelled. “It’s horseshit, it’s a frame up, it’s--”

Etan’s firm hand struck James across the face. It was an open-palmed slap, but the force of the unexpected blow sent his head back against the fridge. He looked shock and held a hand to his now bloody lip. He started to protest, and was met with another slap from Etan.

“Why did you do it?” asked Isaac.

James started to speak, but stopped when he felt his throat tighten. Tears began to sting the corners of his eyes.

“I needed the money,” he finally got out. “I owe some bad people a lot of money and I--”

“Why did you not ask for it?” said Isaac. “You are my son, I would do anything for you.”

“Oh, piss off,” he snarled. “I’m your son? No, Adam’s your bloody son. I’m just the fuckup, the one you have to tolerate. You wouldn’t given me the money. And if you had, you’d have hung it over my head the rest of my life how you had to bail me out.”

“So instead you steal from your own family?” Etan asked. “To this man who you owe everything you have, you help rob him? If you were not a disgrace before, you certainly are now.”

“Fuck you, you bastard.”

Another open-palmed slap flew at James’ head. But this time he was ready. He raised his left forearm to block it, but was taken off guard as the hand went low and chopped him in the throat. He gasped and grabbed his neck, sputtering as he sunk to the floor.

“Who do you owe money to?” Isaac said before taking a deep breath. “Who is it that you helped rob me? If you give me a name Etan will not break your legs.”

---

Mitcham
2:40 PM

“I think we got one.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow at Charlie. Bobby was behind the wheel of the car, smoking and waiting for Charlie to return from the pawnshop. Bobby had been skeptical from the moment he pulled up. The sign that announced the place as Hunter’s Lodge Pawn & Jewels was battered and the once gold letters had faded, threatening to peel if they weren’t touched up soon. The three golden balls below the sign were tarnished and as worn as the sign.

“What happened?” Bobby asked as Charlie closed the passenger side door.

“It’s more what didn’t happen. As soon as I start talking diamonds he shut me down.”

The pawnshop was the third stop of their search. The previous two attempts to fake fence the diamonds had produced expected results. Both men had been interested and were offering a pretty fair rate to fence the jewels. The man they were looking for would have no need for their offers.

“He said he wasn’t interested in diamonds, kept saying it.”

“Maybe Sid was wrong?” Bobby asked.

“Sid’s never wrong,” said Charlie. “He finally said he’d take them off my hands for five pence on the pound. Chicken feed. Like he was trying to insult me with a low offer. What kind of jewelry fence doesn’t want jewels?”

Bobby took a long drag on his cigarette and expelled the smoke before speaking. “Maybe one that is expecting a large shipment of new merchandise? One that can afford to tell you to piss off.”

“See,” Charlie said with a grin, tapping his temple. “Now you’re on to something, Bob. I think this guy is gonna led us to Reams if we watch his shop.”

“We have to meet Coach soon.”

“Shit. You’re right. Let’s split up. I’ll stay here, you go get Coach and see what he found out about the car. If I’m not here when you get back, then I’ll ring the flat in Croydon where Red’s resting sometime tonight.”

“Okay,” Bobby said as he climbed out the car.

Charlie moved over and got behind the wheel, rolling the window down so he could keep speaking to Bobby.

“Just be careful.”

“Always am, Bob,” Charlie said with a wink.

First Contact in the Situation Room

"If we have to bring in China and Russia, why not bring the EU into the fold?" Bill asked. "Or at least the EU countries that matter."

Bill glanced towards the Secretary of Defense and flashed a wry smile.

"I think my ambivalence towards the UN has been well documented and is well known to everyone here in the room. The UN and the Security Council can wait until it's all a fait accompli, what matters is what we do before even bringing it to them. This summit, because that's what it's going to be, is going to be about more than just defense. We'll need a gameplan for studying whatever the hell is out there. That is going to involve science along research and development. Western and Central Europe are fantastic at stuff like that."

With a shrug, Bill leaned back in his chair.

"Plus, having the EU at the table gives us allies for the meeting. We'll have almost all the NATO countries represented without none of the NATO stigma. The old cold warrior in me doesn't like the idea of being too reliant on China and Russia for anything. Especially with something as monumental as this."

First Contact in the Situation Room

mmmm...Interested, but don't know. Actually with school ending in just over a week, I should have time for something of this size. I don't know what role to take. If you want to give me a role, HS, I can do whichever role you need me for; VP or SecState. CJCofS is probably right up my alley, but I'm a politics guy too.

@Gunther

Yes. Yes, thank you.

First Contact in the Situation Room

"I think this is too important for a simple press conference," Bill said from his spot halfway down the table. He clicked the black ballpoint pen in his hand a few times before resting it on the legal pad scribbled with unintelligible words written in his own private shorthand.

"If we go public, which I am not 100% in favor of at this juncture, we do it with a live message to the world from the Oval Office. A historic message that marks the start of a new era in humanity. Just the president and the camera, telling everyone that we are not alone."

He motioned towards Gerard with one of his long, thin hands.

"No reporters who can steal the spotlight by asking questions and getting AJ to say something he's not prepared to say, or something he doesn't want to say. Instead of busting the dam wide open, the president lets a little trickle out and tells the world that he plans to address the UN, the summit with Russia and China, etc. All that good stuff. But you do it later. For now, we get in front of this thing by announcing they have made contact with us. Make the EU and all the rest look like they're following in our footsteps and there's no doubt in the mind's of the world that we're walking point on this."

The Crew – "The Long Good Friday" (A British Noir RP)

Hatton Garden
2:20 PM

Charlie glanced around the jewelry store while they waited for the manager. Five minutes earlier he and Bobby had walked in and told the pleasant salesgirl that they were in search of lovely pearl necklaces for their wives.

“I can help you out with that,” she said with a smile.

“We’re looking for sapphire pearls,” Bobby said softly.

The salesgirl’s smile dampened a bit. Her flirty charm disappeared. She still seemed to be as gregarious and sociable as before, but now there was an edge to it. Whatever these two men wanted, she was out a sale.

“Let me get the manager,” she had said before disappearing behind the counter.

“What do you think, Bob?” Charlie asked once she was gone. He was inspecting a diamond pendant necklace and matching earrings. “Something your bird would like?”

“Too flashy,” he said. “Too expensive. And she’s not a bird, Charlie.”

Charlie chuckled and kept looking over more of the jewels. They’d been on his mind lately thanks to the job. In reality, they were nothing but little rocks and trinkets that someone said was valuable a long time ago. An entire industry had been built to sell these shiny rocks. Hell, entire wars had been fought over them. And now Charlie and Bobby were both on the shortlist to be the next two people to over the glittery stones.

“What do you do with it, Bobby?” asked Charlie. “Your share of the scores? Don’t say you spend it all on yourself, because judging by your shoes we both know that’s a damn lie.”

“It goes… to a good cause,” said Bobby. “Something more important than myself.”

“More important than yourself?” Charlie laughed. “No such thing, lad. Donating to a good cause is a money pit, Bob. The more you give them, the more they want. There’s alway someone in need of this or that or the other. And always a few quid here or there will make it right. Until they need more. And nothing ever gets fixed. Except you. They fix your excess money problem real quick.”

“It’s a cold way of looking at things.”

“World’s a cold place,” Charlie shrugged. “Always has been. You know that better than some.”

“It’s true,” said Bobby. “But that’s why we must help where we can. It makes all the difference.”

Charlie made the a wanking motion with his right hand, breaking Bobby out into a fit of laughter.

“Gentlemen,” a balding man in a three-piece-suit announced as he entered from the back. There was a confused smile on his face. “I understand you wish to talk business?”

“Indeed we do,” said Charlie.

“Then follow me please.”

“Say nothing,” Charlie whispered into Bobby’s ear. “But look as mean as hell.”

---

Putney
2:30 PM

Freddy fed coins into the payphone and dialed the number. He cradled it against his ear and waited as it rang. He was down the corner from Debbie’s flat, lying to her that he was getting more smokes from the corner store. Well, he thought as he found is almost empty pack in his pocket, maybe more of a half-truth than a lie.

“Yes, I’d like to book a flight to Rome for tonight.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the travel agent said in a voice that had no hint of remorse in it. “All flights for tonight to Rome are completely booked. Best I can do you is a flight at eleven tonight to Paris where after a layover for a few hours, you’d be in Rome by tomorrow morning at six.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Freddy. “Let’s do that.”

“How many tickets?”

“One,” he said with an instinctive look back towards Deb’s flat. “Just one. First class if possible.”

"Return trip or one-way?"

"One way, please."

“Sure thing. You’ll need a passport.”

“I got one.”

“Name on the reservation?”

“Edward Robinson.”

“Okay, Mr. Robinson. Will you put it on a charge card now, or pay at the desk.”

“Pay at the desk.”

“Very well,” the travel agent reeled off the airfare. It was pricey, but by this time tonight it would be a drop in the bucket for Freddy. “Make sure you arrive at the Air-France desk no later than thirty minutes before boarding.”

“Will do. Thank you for your help.”

Freddy ended the call and stepped out of the booth. He started towards the corner store, unaware that his phone conversation had been witnessed. From her second floor window of her flat, Debbie had witnessed Freddy on the phone. It was curious. She had a telephone here. Why had he used the one outside? Suspicion began to gnaw at her. She stepped away from the window and started to look through the small bedroom for Freddy’s things.

First Contact in the Situation Room

Character Sheet

---

Name: William "Bill" Birch

Position: National Security Advisor

Age: 60

Sex: Male

Physical Description:

Bill is 6'2 and thin. His salt and pepper is hair always combed in a left-handed part. He wears metal-rimmed glasses that are so thick they distort his hazel eyes.

Brief Bio:

Born in the early 60's, Bill was the youngest son of a conservative upper middle class New England family. He attended Yale and studied political science and international relations. He joined the State Department in the latter days of the Reagan Administration, serving as a junior staffer in the South and Central Asian Affairs at Foggy Bottom. There, he witnessed the diplomacy involved in the Soviet-Afghan War and was among those that thought US involvement should not end after the Soviet retreat. As an Assistant Secretary of State during the Bush Years, Bill helped the White House build its multi-national coalition for the Gulf War. After the '92 election, he took a job with a prominent Washington think-tank, the Committee on Global Affairs, and gained a reputation as an expert on US national security in foreign relations in the post-Cold War world of the late 90's.

In 2000, Bill served as a foreign policy advisor for John McCain's ill-fated presidential run. The backing of the wrong horse led to Bill being left out in the cold as George W. Bush won election in a contested race and filled appointments at State with other people. Bill took a job as a professor at Columbia University. That would be a short lived job, however. After 9/11, Bill was brought back into the cold and joined the Department of Defense as a special advisor to Secretary Rumsfeld on international relations as the US prepared to invade Afghanistan.

As the talk inside the administration shifted from Afghanistan to Iraq, Bill was asked by the White House to be among the figures leading the charge. He famously went on Face the Nation one Sunday and told the American people that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction. His work in the region during the First Gulf War mixed credibility among the diplomatic community helped the Bush White House gain support for the eventual invasion. That interview on national TV would end up being used against him when it was discovered that Iraq did not have any chemical or nuclear weapons. He quickly became one of the faces of American folly in Iraq, one journalist entitled their book on the run-up to war "Without a Doubt", taken from a quote Bill gave in the nationally televised interview. Bill resigned his position just before Bush was sworn-in to a second term.

Going back to the think tank-world, Bill was a senior fellow for The Institute on American Affairs. With his reputation still marred, he served sub rosa as foreign affairs advisors to Republican presidential candidates McCain and Mitt Romney in their unsuccessful runs against Barack Obama. When a third Bush ran for president in '16, Bill was not asked to contribute to his campaign.

Seemingly out of the blue in 2020, Bill was offered the position of National Security Advisor by the president-elect. The move drew a lot of chatter from Washington insiders and people who still remembered how Bill's last job in government had gone. While puzzled at the offer, he still accepted. Shortly there after he was let in one of the biggest secrets of all times: Man was not alone in the universe.

Issues/Agenda:

Work style, Bill believes that issues should be approached from all sides and discussed. After the fiasco that was 2003, he has taken the position that he will question major policy decision many times to see if it holds up and will stand his ground if he does not believe in an idea.

On the topic of foreign affairs, Bill is very much of the belief that American hegemony over the world is key to global security. He sees the US as the world police and believes that the US should be the only contact for the new alien people who have come to Earth. He is strongly for keeping the rest of the world, friend and foe alike, in the dark about what is going on. He also subscribes to the concept of Realpolitik in regards to dealing with less than ideal people and situations. To Bill, pragmatism is always the number one rule when it comes to furthering the nation's goals.

Politically, he is a conservative in fiscal policy and advocates free trade and lower taxes/less social programs. As a secular New Englander, Bill does not agree with the evangelical right and their ultra-conservative outlooks on abortion/religion/gay marriage/whateverelsetheyhate

First Contact in the Situation Room

Character Sheet

---

Name: William "Bill" Birch

Position: National Security Advisor

Age: 60

Sex: Male

Physical Description:

Bill is 6'2 and thin. His salt and pepper is hair always combed in a left-handed part. He wears metal-rimmed glasses that are so thick they distort his hazel eyes.

Brief Bio:

Born in the early 60's, Bill was the youngest son of a conservative upper middle class New England family. He attended Yale and studied political science and international relations. He joined the State Department in the latter days of the Reagan Administration, serving as a junior staffer in the South and Central Asian Affairs at Foggy Bottom. There, he witnessed the diplomacy involved in the Soviet-Afghan War and was among those that thought US involvement should not end after the Soviet retreat. As an Assistant Secretary of State during the Bush Years, Bill helped the White House build its multi-national coalition for the Gulf War. After the '92 election, he took a job with a prominent Washington think-tank, the Committee on Global Affairs, and gained a reputation as an expert on US national security in foreign relations in the post-Cold War world of the late 90's.

In 2000, Bill served as a foreign policy advisor for John McCain's ill-fated presidential run. The backing of the wrong horse led to Bill being left out in the cold as George W. Bush won election in a contested race and filled appointments at State with other people. Bill took a job as a professor at Columbia University. That would be a short lived job, however. After 9/11, Bill was brought back into the cold and joined the Department of Defense as a special advisor to Secretary Rumsfeld on international relations as the US prepared to invade Afghanistan.

As the talk inside the administration shifted from Afghanistan to Iraq, Bill was asked by the White House to be among the figures leading the charge. He famously went on Face the Nation one Sunday and told the American people that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction. His work in the region during the First Gulf War mixed credibility among the diplomatic community helped the Bush White House gain support for the eventual invasion. That interview on national TV would end up being used against him when it was discovered that Iraq did not have any chemical or nuclear weapons. He quickly became one of the faces of American folly in Iraq, one journalist entitled their book on the run-up to war "Without a Doubt", taken from a quote Bill gave in the nationally televised interview. Bill resigned his position just before Bush was sworn-in to a second term.

Going back to the think tank-world, Bill was a senior fellow for The Institute on American Affairs. With his reputation still marred, he served sub rosa as foreign affairs advisors to Republican presidential candidates McCain and Mitt Romney in their unsuccessful runs against Barack Obama. When a third Bush ran for president in '16, Bill was not asked to contribute to his campaign.

Seemingly out of the blue in 2020, Bill was offered the position of National Security Advisor by the president-elect. The move drew a lot of chatter from Washington insiders and people who still remembered how Bill's last job in government had gone. While puzzled at the offer, he still accepted. Shortly there after he was let in one of the biggest secrets of all times: Man was not alone in the universe.

Issues/Agenda:

Work style, Bill believes that issues should be approached from all sides and discussed. After the fiasco that was 2003, he has taken the position that he will question major policy decision many times to see if it holds up and will stand his ground if he does not believe in an idea.

On the topic of foreign affairs, Bill is very much of the belief that American hegemony over the world is key to global security. He sees the US as the world police and believes that the US should be the only contact for the new alien people who have come to Earth. He is strongly for keeping the rest of the world, friend and foe alike, in the dark about what is going on. He also subscribes to the concept of Realpolitik in regards to dealing with less than ideal people and situations. To Bill, pragmatism is always the number one rule when it comes to furthering the nation's goals.

Politically, he is a conservative in fiscal policy and advocates free trade and lower taxes/less social programs. As a secular New Englander, Bill does not agree with the evangelical right and their ultra-conservative outlooks on abortion/religion/gay marriage/whateverelsetheyhate

The Crew – "The Long Good Friday" (A British Noir RP)

Peckham
12:53 PM

Charlie and Bobby sat in the foyer of the Happy Time Massage. Half-naked girls wearing silky shifts and robes came and went, taking men into the back for what promised to be an all inclusive massage. Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at Bobby, staring at his feet and his face as red as a beet.

“What’s the matter?” asked Charlie.

“I have a girlfriend,” Bobby muttered.

“That’s okay,” Charlie said with a chuckle. “Looking isn't cheating.”

He winked at one of the women as she walked by. She was a brunette with shoulder length hair that was held up by what looked like chopsticks to Charlie. She wore only a lavender bra and knickers with black heels.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Bobby asked.

“No,” Charlie said quickly. The matters of his lovelife was something he never liked to discuss with anyone. There was no way in hell he was going to talk about it to Bobby Bombs in the waiting room of a massage parlor. “I only date whores.”

There was a long silence between the two as they watched new men enter looking nervously, while flushed and relaxed men with wet stains on their trousers left. Bobby bummed a smoke off Charlie.

“When did that start?” Charlie asked after lighting Bobby’s fag.

“Right after Wembley,” said Bobby, expelling smoke. “I just… needed something to take the edge off.”

Charlie grunted and ignited his own cigarette. Another long silence enveloped the two men while they smoked.

“I never meant to kill her,” Charlie finally said. “She just wouldn’t stop looking at me, Bob. She was trying to remember my face so she could tell the coppers. I had to stop her from looking away.”

Bobby nodded. “With what happened to Red last night, I think I can now understand how it doesn’t take much to scramble someone’s brains.”

“Good,” said Charlie. “But Coach still hates me and Red has been looking at me sideways since we started this whole bloody thing. They think I’m some psycho killer.”

“Well, you’ve been talking nonstop about killing Freddy.”

“That’s different,” he said dismissively. “He’s ripped us off, and now we’re behind the bloody eight ball. If it’s down to him or us, then it’s no choice.”

“That’s how it starts,” said Bobby. “Convincing yourself that it’s either you or them will take you a long way when it comes to murder.”

“He’ll see you now,” the redhead in the kimono said from the doorway.

Charlie’s rebuttal to Bobby never came. He rose and walked towards her with Bobby close behind.Charlie watched the redhead’s hips sway as she led them to a back office.

“What time you get off?” Charlie asked with a smirk.

“My shift ends at eight.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Leave my girls alone, you American bastard.”

Sidney Greenstein aka Sid the Yid, was seated behind the cheap desk in the cheap little backroom. Charlie gave her a playful swat on the bottom as he and Bobby went into the office. If this were someone’s first impression of Sid, then they would be shocked to know the little man was one of the gambling kingpins of South London.

“Have a seat, Charlie,” Sid said as he lit up a fat cigar. “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Bobby.”

“Just Bobby?” Sid asked. “Not Bobby the Polack? I can hear the accent, son.”

“I don’t like that word,” Bobby said tightly.

“We call him Bobby Bombs,” Charlie said as he sat. “The best damn explosives man in London.”

“Well," said Sid. "To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting his acquaintance?”

“We need your help, Sid," said Charlie. "You have a reputation for being plugged in.”

“When it comes to the underworld, just call me Western Union, my son.”

“We need to get rid of some diamonds,” Bobby said. “Lots of them. And quick.”

Sid raised an eyebrow and leaned forward in his chair, his eyes glinting behind the thick frames of his glasses. He shifted his cigar to one side of his mouth and spoke out of the other.

“What have you boys been up to? I been hearing rumors about you, Charlie. That you’re running with a very efficient mob. Professionals, independent operators. I rode them off since I know your past with Irish Jim. But... maybe those rumors weren’t just bollocks.”

“I’ll give you the details after, Sid. Just.. who would we go to?”

“Off the top of my head? Isaac Zinkman.”

Sid’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline when he saw the looks on Charlie and Bobby’s faces. Charlie could feel the color in his face quickly draining.

“What did I say?... Wait…,” Sid trailed off before his jaw loosened, the cigar spilling out on to the desk. “No. No fucking way. You didn’t.”

“Zinkman’s just a jeweler,” said Charlie.

Sid picked the cigar from the desk and pointed the stub at Charlie as he spoke. “He is now. I used to work for Zinkman’s boss, boys. Meyer Landsman. You think the Binney Firm are tough geezers, they couldn’t shine the shoes of Landman’s mob. The Jew Crew they called them. Think of the American Mafia, but with more power and less foreskin. Isaac cut his teeth by breaking legs and doing hits. All the capital he used to start the diamond exchange came from Landsman.”

Sid looked down at the now extinguished cigar in his hand and tut-tutted at Charlie and Bobby.

“You’ve really stepped in it, lads.”

“Scale of 1-10 in how bad have we fucked up,” Charlie said softly.

Sid leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Scale of 1-10? You’re Hitler invading Russia, lad.”

“Fuck,” Bobby yelled. The sharp outburst, combined with the curse word, actually took Charlie by surprise. “What the fuck do we do, Charlie?”

“Give us those names, Sid,” said Charlie. “Anybody else who could move high-quality rocks. With any luck, we’ll be done with the whole bloody affair before they even get on to our scent.”

First Contact in the Situation Room - Political/Sci-Fi

I'm here.