FourtyTwo

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Jan clambered, the climb long and ardous. Leg up, lock, arms up, lock. It was easy for a couple of meters, then it became hellish. Three and a bit storeys of this was horrifying, and with full combat gear, he knew that he'd be out of breath when he hit the top. It was a tricky way in, but as they clambered, Jan could hear the very faint noise of talking on the other side of the second floor lift door, sounding like it was Arabic of some kind. They were definitely here, if the set downstairs didn't confirm that. Carrying on, his Oakley gloves snatching the steel cable again, he pulled up, aware that his arms were going to be fairly dead. That didn't matter. Pain wasn't a quantity, and time was. So that latter factor was why Jan wasn't exactly slowing down at this moment in time.

Reaching the top, he swung off into the side, by the mechanism's inspection, dropping off and moving through the open door, to see where Neil, Wendy, Zhenya and Scott had set up. Jan took the 416 off his plate carrier, and did a last mental check over the weapon, as he put his thermal bandit up a little higher, and adjusting his beanie, looked out on Copenhagen. He held the German-made rifle in one hand, and his harness in the other, checking the buckles and straps.
"Okay. Scott, Zhenya, continue getting the ropes down. Neil, get some security for Wendy set up, then join us. Wendy, I need you to keep your position there. We get any runners, you eliminate them, and put a bullet through them- it's a good enough vantage point to see down most of the main roads, but if they hit an alley, you tell us." He simply said, as the Pole had a quick look around, the scene that they were in one that seemed preposterous.
"Going to rig a Claymore on the roof access door." Neil said over the comms to Wendy, as he got to work, Jan himself moving to the side of the building, the wind howling and the slightly slushy snow that sat on the roof a reminder that it was Christmas here. Darkness had decided to drop in fast, and the sun had almost completely set now, with the noise of the small fair going on a faint blur. Moving to the side of the roof, he joined Scott and Zhenya, Neil following behind, as he got his own rope ready. The nylon went through his gloves, as he found a attaching point, in the form of a metal bar that sat on the side of a generator, feeling it hold his weight as he tied in. Moving over, he looked down at the street, knowing there were civies there. They still had to go.
"Okay, on my go. Follow me down. We're going to breach the second floor, the third is empty, as far as I know. We'll be better off concentrating our fire on the second, and then sweeping upstairs if needs be. Either way, we're going to have charges ready. Two points of entry, gents, and we drop anyone that comes in our path." Jan said, as he threaded the rope through his harness, taking the rope in both hands as he stood on the edge, with his back to the void, before letting the rope have some slack.

He kicked off the concrete, moving slow and steady, waiting on Zhenya and Scott to keep up, as he let some more slack into the system, moving down, bit by bit. Putting some pressure on, he came in close, keeping the rope down, as he took the plastic explosive in his left hand. It was sticky, as a Breaching Charge could be expected to be. The plywood was a good attempt to cover up the glass, and what was going on inside, but Jan knew that a charge like this would blast it all to pieces. It would be inward, being a fierce and hard detonation of a small quantity of PE4, that would blow it inside into any unsuspecting hostile. Wedging the line shut, he folded it out, looking to his right, to Scott, who was at his side of the plywood cover. Jan stuck the last of the adhesive charge on, pushing off a little to the left as he got a nice standing position on the side of the building, being able to get his 416 ready.
"Charge is set. I pull this, we got five seconds." Jan said, as he looked over to Zhenya and Neil- the latter of whom was following the Russian, sticking close as he had his AS VAL ready, hanging in position as he let the Russian work the charge onto the plywood.
"Not bad, really." He said over the comms to Scott, as he chuckled, a magazine loaded in the 416, the EOTech 552 engaged and the VFG that sat on the weapon comfortable in his gloved hands. Waiting on Zhenya's word that his charge was ready on his breaching position, he exhaled, the heat difference saying it all really. It was below zero, and here, windy. Jan moved a little to the side, pulling the key out slow, as he gave the word.
"Medved, Lima is about to knock on their door. Be ready for runners. Okay, Zhenya, prepare to set the charge. On my go, you set it. Pull the key..now, charge is armed, in five." Jan said, moving back, aware that Zhenya's was now going too, Jan nodding to Scott, as he was ready in position, offset from the charge, aware that they were going to have to do something that only Special Forces could call their forte. This was better on an Embassy, but this would do just fucking fine.
"Four, three, two," Jan said, as the charge began to burn, the cable heading to the charge burning intensely, as Jan simply breathed. He was offset to the left of their breaching point, giving Scott a better route in on the right, something a little more direct. He'd let him go first, as Jan pushed back with a hard leap, aware that there was a little slack he had left in the system. He protruded out, losing a little height, but enough to give him the momentum to get him where he wanted.
"One." Jan retorted, as it began.

Jan followed Scott, as he came back in, the loud crack of the explosive shaking the whole front of plywood cover, and smashing the window it covered, imploding inside as time began to dilate a little. Jan saw the panel in front become simply removed, as he swung back in, letting the slack to fully go, as he swung straight inside. Three men were blown down by the charge, and Jan was fast enough to already begin firing, the 5.56 rounds entering them in various places, as he held two hands on his rifle, still strapped in as time felt slower and slower. A few men were in disarray, as Jan saw the other two man team breach, Neil following Zhenya's lead, as he unloaded on a man by the lift shaft, this being one of the few rooms on this floor that they were based out of. Jan took out another man to the left, as he took one more out by what looked like a stash of weapons on a table, the place as messy and horrid as the Pole expected. Looking around, Jan kept an eye out, his rifle still raised, half a magazine left. There were at least eight dead men in this room, minimum. Possibly even twelve, though in this moment, this adrenaline fuelled anarchic moment where they had breached the side of an office building, Jan was more focussed on getting through this quick.
"Move, move, move!" He simply added, unclipping the karabiner-attached mechanism with one hand as soon as he had finished covering Scott. A couple of men, armed with R870s moved through the door, and found themselves getting picked apart by Jan's aim, one getting a shot in the head whilst the other took one to the leg, forcing him behind a plasterboard wall in cover, howling in pain. Jan finished the man, with a few shots through the plasterboard, as he moved forward, through the room.

"Inspect the area, look for the device. Get new mags in now, they're going to mobilize. Medved, we're inside now, we've got a fuckton of them moving back in!" Jan added, as he moved quickly, kicking over a table as the sight of a couple more moving through the door found themselves on the recieving end of the team's fire. Moving behind, he looked around the area, just seeing guns, and nothing but. AK74s, AKMs, even a handful of G3s and MG3s. Fuck, they were bringing a war to this place, and Jan could safely say that if this was their armory, that they'd still be able to orchestrate a horrifying terrorist attack regardless of whatever they had.

"It's not here, we must keep pushing! Neil, Zhenya, push up on the door to the left, use the spare breaching charge and blow through into the corridor! Scott, you're on point, we're going to continue into the conference room linked to this room and continue our sweep! Eyes open, watch for anything and everything! Wendy, you got any runners?" Jan simply retorted over the comms, giving Scott and opportunity to reload as he stepped over a body, sliding across table and moving quickly, to a piece of solid cover, near a concrete pillar. Nodding to Scott, he followed on his back, moving through into the next room. There was a fucking lot of them, and somehow, Jan knew that they were going to be either running now, or bogging down to fight off the raiding team. Jan didn't care. They were getting it.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Yee-ha. We're on. I'm going to give people a little more material to post on, a little more in terms of order.

Vigil!

Lucas grabbed his car keys, as he smirked.
"I'll be round soon." He simply said, Austin's voice rather than an assistant's a relief, as he got out of his chair, the call disconnected. He tidied his folders, and headed to the far side of the room, opening up a grate on the far side. Inside here, wasn't his whole stash of gear. But there was some simple stuff. The MP7A1, his Kimber M1911, and a handful of knives. They were packed into a duffel bag, with what looked like at least $2,000 of hard, cold cash. Bringing it out from the far side of the vent, he shut the grate, the blue and white sports duffel's strap around his right shoulder. There was much he had to discuss, and since Edgar wouldn't be over immediately, there was some planning and post-operation work to be done.

Heading out, he found his car, the Audi RS7 that he had used yesterday sitting in the lot, in it's usual prestige. It was perhaps too nice of a car for a private investigator, but was built on drug money, and had been customized well, to be a little more toughened than a normal RS7. It was faster, and felt fire-breathing, definitely a vehicle for someone like him. It fitted well for buisness, but for his other activities, that too. A false numberplate sat on the rear, technically registering it for another RS7, in another name somewhere out in Kansas. Always useful if speeding was a problem. Stepping in, Lucas switched the radio on, a bit of Gaslamp Killer coming on. He did have weird music tastes, he thought to himself. Classic rock on the one hand, but on the other, this. The engine on, he pulled away, onto the road, coming up to a set of lights. Red. He just waited, tapping the wheel, looking out on the sun and mixed clouds that sat in the sky today.

The V8 on the RS7 revved hard, as Lucas pulled away from the lights, shifting the paddle up nicely as the car surged forwards, Lucas aware he was breaking the limit. The mid-day had little to no traffic, and the cops were usually on their donut break by about now, with Lucas even knowing their usual patrol routes. This was thanks to general observation, having taken this route every time he headed to the rougher part of town, to conduct deals. Knowing the fastest way out with a cop-free area was always good homework, and when you had to beat criminals, thinking like one was a good practice, though Lucas wasn't of course up to date with it. Turning left, he was back on the gas, the Audi roaring as within minutes, Lucas was over at Martin's General Repairs.

Pulling around the back, he looked in his rear view, and then in front, seeing the all clear. Pulling into a small gap, he got out, the long-sleeved navy shirt and grey trousers he wore made him seem like a casual client. Taking the duffel, walking in through the door. Austin was as innocent as he could be, as Lucas looked around, walking in.
"Many a thing, friend. Backroom." He said, pointing, just walking that way anyway. He knew precsiely what needed to be done, and he had little time.

Walking through into Austin's backroom, Lucas tossed the duffel onto the desk, pulling the Kimber out and the knives, leaving the cash and the MP7A1.
"Those are yours, I believe. No fingerprints left, and that cash is untraced. $2,000 exact, as you asked." Lucas said, a little cold and detached, though he knew that Austin did warm his personality a little.
"Thanks for this. I appreciate it." The man with the shaved hair said, as he checked the Kimber, looking through the mechanism as he pulled the hammer back, inspecting the weapon a little, before chambering a round again, and placing it back in his hidden holster.

Vigil!

Hmm, in which case, I may do that soon.

Vigil!

It's not a competition, but this is Casual+ I would say now- Casual, but minus the word limit, and with snippets of Advanced level stuff going on. Still a Casual RP though, as a GM myself I'm not too mindful whether someone writes only a good paragraph or a wall.

Now all of you get back to work on building my death ray. Make sure it's built strictly to code and won't fucking explode at the touch of a button. We're doing this right. Ground all electrical components, shield all weaknesses properly, don't leak the bloody blueprints.

@Vilhelm

And it's all a shame that I'm a very, very leaky bastard....

EDIT: Also, can I post in response with BigPapa, if this okay? We won't take the piss and go too fast, as to outstrip your conversation in the office.

Vigil!

She's gagging for gash. :D

I do find their sibling rivalry interesting, seems cool.

Vigil!

In Soviet Union, you fight bear!

Because let's be frank, the boss is one of these people who probably could, perhaps.

I will have Lucas get into some scrapes with your characters, that is for sure at some point. Meeting Mark, well, that would be an experience :D

Vigil!

Your vigilante made a short post. After the essay that was the first one, I felt like going easy. :D

Vigil!

Leaning back in his chair, Lucas picked up the phone, making the call.
"Hello. Mr Bolton, it's your investigator. I have found what you were looking for." Lucas simply said, looking over at the file on the wooden desk, looking out the window as the man in his mid-40s responded. Edgar Bolton was a man that was another typical customer- a little paranoid, but with justification for that paranoia, in a way.
"Shit, Lucas. My wife, she's doing it?" He said, a little tense, as Lucas knew they all were.
"I have a comprehensive report of your spouse's activities. See for yourself. It's not my concern to judge or do anything about it, I gather facts after all. Swing by my office, and we'll square up our business." Lucas said, calmly, a little tired even, but convincing over the phone.
"Thanks man. Can I come this evening?"
"Sure. Come in at around six to my office, I don't want this to take up too much time. Thank you very much, Mr Bolton." He simply said, as the man on the other end breathed a sigh of slightly angered relief, probably at his wife.
"Thanks, Mr Green. Goodbye." The man added, as Lucas put the phone down, looking out the window a little more. Sirens. Godknows what now. Maybe police going to the lab. Or the fire department clearing up the rubble. Either way, it was a mess.

Sitting up a little, he switched on his MP3 player, hooked up to a DAB radio of sorts. Flicking it on, some simple Mumford and Sons was the next track on the playlist, something simple to ease his ears. Sitting back, he sorted out Edgar Bolton's files, everything in order for collection. To Trident, this was a bore. This was a sure fire fucking way to live a life, but not a way to just pay the bills. Lucas knew that of course, not all his income was legitimate. Against the Mafiya, he had made one or two cutbacks. Money that had so much so vanished from the system was in his hands. Stealing from thieves was brilliant, just awesome. Because they couldn't go to the cops about it, and that was a nice feeling. This wasn't regularity. And nor was it something he enjoyed. He took what he needed. To buy his car and bike, equipment, and anything specialized through Austin. The rest, this business payed, legitimately.

Lucas finished with the brown folder, all photos, paperwork and invoices in order, before switching the MP3 player off. Walking back to the phone, the thought of Austin was one that he needed to just get to work on. Finding his number, he dialed it in, knowing that it went to his business mobile. Lucas was a good client of Austin's. A very good client. They worked mutually, but Lucas knew it was a need to know basis. Some favors there, for a little assistance there. Austin was good as a shooter, but on other fronts, he had many, many weaknesses. A family, that was one. Taking the phone again, he dialed. No specifics on a landline or mobile, but on a payphone or an encrypted device, such as through an online channel with an encryption would usually do the trick for better remote specifics. Some were permissible, but ones that would tell a would be assassin how to shoot dead Lucas would be too much.

The phone buzzed, till Lucas heard the other end catch.
"Hello, my friend. Meet me round your place of work, wait somewhere discreet near; I'll find you. We need to talk." Lucas simply said, waiting for a simple confirming response. They had things indeed, to talk about. Austin wasn't a shop, but if returns were anything to go by, he owed the fixer something.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Fuck, that sounds shit dude.

But on the plus side, you get more guuuuns. More SAR-21 time. :D