The Package - Open RP (Pace: 1 post / person / day)

He was done smiling, as she placed the mug at the feet of his hands. The harsh looking man took it, gesturing to her in a sharp way that pointed toward a military history. Probably less, she thought, than he pretended; but she swallowed the thought, rubbing a rag over her hands.

The door kept opening and closing, and its chime had sunk into background noise. She checked the laces of her shoes, and brushed a bit of hair from her eyes, and pulled at her sleeve, and listened to stray bits of everyone.

"Just give me something strong that'll wake me up,” a voice protruded, its source catching eyes with the girl’s hat. “Was a long night.” Bills landed on the counter like moths, and she repeated the last drink, dripping cold water into the heat of a metal basin. Its hiss quieted the room, and pointed its attention vaguely in one direction. The stereo went silent, and then it didn’t.

And the wrestler hit his mark.

He was a leader: equal parts intimidating and genuine. Like a carnival-prize stuffed bear, or a taxi driver, or a friend’s dad, probably. The drink landed, money slipping into the register, and she watched him go quiet and squeeze out a tear. She wondered, trying to ignore the parts of the story that could pull an emotional string of her own, what he was like on pay-per-view.

“…By now she would be about twenty years old…” drowned out the door, but she had been looking that way. A tall, thin woman with a bandage on her nose stood, filling it, then stepped inside, letting the glass chuckle and whine shut. One of her arms was tuck into a brown bag, and her oval-frames slipped down her nose as she rifled through something within, and found a seat. She was probably close to forty, but maybe it was just the pale blonde of her hair, and the pockmarked grey of her skin that aged her.

Fara went visibly rigid, and left her eyes stuck at the empty doorframe.

Delinquent looked at the man that had walked through the door and thought back to the glint of light. Someone watching them…

Stepping forward aggressively Del ripped his Act .44 from the holster with an inhuman speed and clutched the man’s cheeks, placing pressure on them until his mouth popped open. The pistol was into the unexpected visitors mouth with a slight upward angle to ensure that if fired the shot would be a guaranteed kill. Gun oil and metal mixed flavors in the mans mouth and caused him to gag slightly as he fought to spit the weapon out as well as breath. Delinquent groped for the door handle with his free hand a moment and, once located, yanked the door open and “escorted” the man outside.

Shoving with the hand that held the pistol Delinquent pushed the man into the street where he spilled onto the ground like a fallen bag of groceries.

“Were closed.”

Delinquent shut the door to the shop and slammed the bolt shut. Holstering the pistol Delinquent turned to face the others, "Now, back to business."

Myra takes her coffee and change and sits down towards the back of the group. She takes a sip, then sets the cup down quickly and makes a show of having burned her tongue.
When Del starts talking though, she cuts the act and gives him her full attention.
Myra had never heard about his past before (or anyone else in the Dogs, for that matter). She never cared to ask, mostly because she thought that the less she knew, the better. That he had a twenty year-old daughter though... well, that was something Myra never would've guessed, and had Del's emotions been any less genuine, she wouldn't have believed it. She didn't have any comforting words for him, nor did she offer any assurances that they'd get her back. This was bad.

"You're right, we don't have much time... so let's get planning. Stop me if you've got a better idea, but here's how I see this playing out in my head. First things first, we need to find out who the enforcers are that took her and where they're holding her. Enforcers are cocky, they like to give themselves identifying features. Make a name for themselves. If we can get a description of them from Simeone, maybe we can get a name from another one of those pricks with a badge. Yes, that means somebody gets to go huntin' for an enforcer.

"Next, we find out where they're holding her. Once we know who these guys are, that shouldn't be too hard. It'll just take some recon, and maybe a little... bait. If we let them arrest one of us, the rest can follow them back to wherever they're keeping their prisoners." She grimaces, then sighs. "I've been taken by enforcers before and I've served time in prison back in 'Mother Russia...' I'll do it. I don't amount to much when the big guns come out anyway, so I'll be more useful on the inside." The contempt for her homeland shows through in her voice - whatever her story before she came to San Paro, Myra obviously thinks less of it than her life now.

"After that...?" she presses her lips together and motions with one hand around the room at the armament everyone's packing. "We do what we've got to do to get your daughter out of there. I've got a batch of forged badges I was working on for Jeung that we might be able to use to get closer than usual to the enforcers. He'll probably be pissed that we used them, but if we pick up his bosses' millions of dollars in confiscated goods on the way out I think he'll be more understanding.

"We could save time by splitting up. Those of you itching for some violence could go get the details from Simeone and use your skills of... persuasion... on another enforcer to find out who these people are. Meanwhile, some of you could come with me to help stage a crime that will draw their attention - and if they went after Simeone, you know it's going to have to be something big to get them to come out and play.

"Oh, and if anyone else has other ideas that don't involve me taking an NL9 to the gut, feel free to speak up. But this is the best way I can think of to get Erin out alive."

The room fell to silence after Myra had laid out her suggestions. Delinquent though on what she had said and looked around at the others to see if there were other thoughts on the matter. With a nod he looked back to Myra, “Good ideas, Je… Myra. Any thoughts on the crime we can pull off to bring the enforcers out into the open?”

Myra looks around to see the others' reactions.
"Really? Nobody has a better idea? Well... alright then." She thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "Well, we know these guys like to take the big jobs. They did a raid, so we know they're aggressive, not the donut-munching type who sit in their city-supplied patrol car all day and just report crimes in progress everytime somebody knocks over the gas station across the street. They're also probably feeling pretty damn good about themselves right now for pulling off that last bust.

"So... based on that... I'd say we'd need something that would draw their interest without getting us the attention of every enforcer in the city. Once we find out where they are, maybe we could drop some "anonymous tips" around the area about something big that's being moved. Something that would scare off other enforcers, but might get these guys to come after us while they're feeling all big 'n tough."

I leaned against a table, letting the Ntec hang against my shoulder in its sling.

"Let's make one of us seem more important, then. Enforcers love the idea of taking some big dog down a few pegs. Say there's some new hotshot moving in. If not that, tell them we're driving vans full of gun-toting psychopaths. Now, I'm not sure if anyone will want to put themselves out in the open to act like one of those people, but I'll volunteer."

I flashed a grin, despite the fact I wasn't too keen on putting myself in the middle of some Enforcer's sights. But hey, it kept the others safe. Well, safer. With a plan like this, everyone was willing to throw themselves in harm's way. Maybe that's why I was so eager to help. They'd do the same. Plus, I was invincible.

Or at least I hoped so.

If not that, tell them we're driving vans full of gun-toting psychopaths.

"Speaking of vans full of gun-toting psychopaths." Dice spouted staring at the door. "I've been running guns for Simeone for awhile, we use those big armored vans." He looked toward Del. "You know the big blue ones always entering and exiting the compound?"

Not waiting for Del's response he continued. "I've got two of them sitting at the warehouse down in financial. Simeone won't mind us using them under the circumstances."

Dice gave a glance around the room.

"Not to mention the firepower down in the warehouse itself. Everything from .38 Specials to OSMAWS. We go out for some target practice and the rest falls into place."

Petra listened, sipping her coffee, left hand tracing along the butt of her FBW. She smiled a little, imagining the end results, but the smile breaking into the hint of a grin at Carlyle and Dice's additions. Some of the details of Del's situation were completely foreign to her; hell his daughter was older than she was. But the far more important thing was to work to fix it.

"Welp," she commented, setting the empty cup down on the counter. "I'm with you guys, if you want another," she said with a nod to Dice.

"Right then, I suppose it all comes down to how Del wants to proceed."

He looked towards Del with a straight faced look. "Well? We're on a timer here."

Myra carefully takes the razor blade from Dolly, a grateful smile on her face. "Thanks, it might come in handy if they use zip-ties to cuff me. I've got enough escape artist experience that I can get myself out of handcuffs without much difficulty, assuming they're in a rush to get me out of there and aren't very thorough with how they slap 'em on. I'd offer to show you how later so that in the future you don't have to, ah, bleed yourself to make room to slip out, but I'm really good at manipulation with my fingers and it still took me years of practice in prison to nail it down right.
"Hopefully they won't get a chance to do anything to me, but I can handle it. Just hold back the urge to go in guns blazing on them before you get a chance to follow them back to their hideout, or we'll never find Del's daughter. Once they take me inside I'll work on getting Erin out safely and hopefully preventing a hostage situation while you all storm the place."

She nods at Dice's suggestion. "That could work nicely. I'm a bit concerned about how much attention it will draw from all enforcers in general, but we can try and it and see how it goes. Just be prepared to aim those OSMAWS elsewhere if the wrong groups of fuzz start showing up."

From somewhere, a wind of courage or command swept through the redhead. “So that’s it, yeah?” she kept her eyes on the blonde, who moved her eyes across a book. “That’s it? We strut along th’midway flipping coins ‘til someone tries to cut off our head?” Her voice was like a buzzsaw, or novice jazz played on chiptune synthesizers. Without any movement, she let her eyes scan the rest of the filled-up room, her face giving nothing away.

And they landed back on the sore-thumb woman. “And, look, I jus…I just don’t think it’s the way to do this.” And then toward the giant, “and why are you s’ready to trust thi-Simeone guy? And back to the blonde, “and I don’ think that pinning a show-huff force from eh-ver-rhee one here’s good for anything but publicly pinning all-huff us together.”

The girl, that being the most she could be called, blinked hard, and took a few steps around the corner, toward Delinquent. “I’m sor-reh,” she placed a hand awkwardly on his arm, and her throat kind of went dry, “I’m sor-reh. But this isn’t th’way.”

Back behind the counter, she fished through a grayish backpack with Sharpie graffiti growing like moss along one side. “I know you want to fight for this…or jus…just want to fight. I get that.” She found a phone, and turned back toward the group, dialing with her hand at her side. “We need t’kill this at th’root, rather than hackin’ at branches.” One last glance toward the blonde woman, and she hit send, bringing the phone to her ear, stepping toward the kitchen.

“Ed? Alice’s back,” ushered the door closed.

He listened intently to Myra's comments.

"You make a point." He contemplated for a moment. "We could nix one of the trucks to make less of a scene. Keep it on standby for when we figure out where the hell you are. Be ready to storm the place as you put it."

His head tilted towards the floor. Eyes concealed by goggles. His right arm gave a sudden sharp twitch and the veins began to show.

"Blitzkrieg. Lightning Attack. Efficient. Merciless." His tone was different, a cold edge that sent shivers down ones very soul. Jekyll was here.

“and why are you s’ready to trust thi-Simeone guy?

"Simeone is my concern. Not yours." Snapping his head in the direction of the comment.

"I don't think it's really a pressing question in regards to getting her back, but since we need to talk to Simeone anyway to get any information about these enforcers that we can, I don't see any reason why we can't ask sooner rather than later."

((Yeah yeah, this is breaking the 1 post/24 hours thing, I know...))

Thunder roared outside, reminding everyone of the storm that continued to plague San Paro. Delinquent looked about the room quietly, taking in the comments and questions that poured out of those in the room. He looked down a moment, his eyes taking in the tattoo's that littered his skin, then Delinquent raised his eyes once more to respond to the many comments.

"Dolly, hun, you are right in questioning Simone, but I trust the man as he has yet to do me wrong. It is the logic that has banned us together, and it is the logic that will guide me in my dealings with Simone," Delinquents tone was stern as though it was challenging any in the room to question him.

Delinquent turned his attention to Eleutherophobia who was in the midst of her phone call, "It is not the way, you are right... But what choice do we have?"

Finally he turned to face Myra with a smile besieged with sadness, "You do not know me well, but it is to you that I turn and request that you lead the operation to draw the attention of the enforcers... There is a good chance that you won't return in one piece from this request..."

Outside the coffee shop Tony was clawing his way out of the trash, a soggy biscotti in his mouth. The trash didn't yield as much to eat as he had hoped, but he would have to make due with what he was able to salvage in the short time before the rain started pouring. Focused on the biscotti, Tony tore off a few moldy patches before trying to bite off a tooth resistant piece.

It was then he realized, while still locked in combat with the biscotti, all the expensive looking cars that were parked around the dirty coffee shop. Tony found this strange, as most of these cars were above the paygrade of your average Barista. With a silent curse, Tony threw his meal into the pooling water by his feet. For all he knew this coffee shop was a front for an opium den or something.

Tony began a hurried march away from the parking lot as he was assaulted by rain. It was only as he neared the sidewalk did he notice the low figure silently weaving in and out between the cars. It's face was obscured by a baseball cap, it's hands busy with planting a little foreign objects on each of the cars. As the figure was nearing the end of it's labor, it noticed Tony while in mid-stride.

Tony knew it saw him even though he still couldn't see the Figure's face, but he was sure they had locked eyes for a moment. The figure pressed a finger to it's ear before reporting to god knows who about the ragged old homeless man that had spotted it. After it's brief report, the figure finished it's task and calmly walked away from the parking lot onto the sidewalk. By this time Tony had resumed walking away, shaking the droplets of rain from obscuring his vision.

Tony had no idea what the hell was going on, but his gut was telling him to get the hell out of dodge.

Myra folds her arms and shrugs. "I volunteered, Del. I wouldn't do this if I didn't think it'd work - we'll get your daughter back."

Azrakel wrote:Myra folds her arms and shrugs. "I volunteered, Del. I wouldn't do this if I didn't think it'd work - we'll get your daughter back."

Confidence was a strong attribute in a person. Delinquent appreciated this strength in people and felt a sense of the same when those he selected showed the attribute. The sadness leaked out of the smile and Delinquent looked into Myra's eyes a moment before speaking, "Very well, then. You are in charge of the operation in all aspects. Pick your team and the mission, I will deal with Simeone myself."

"I think Dice and I can handle it. Petra, maybe you could help out too. Dolly and Carlyle, you two go with Del to talk to Simeone and pick up an enforcer or two to interrogate. When you're done, you three meet up with Dice and Petra and follow us back to where they're keeping your daughter for our big finale... how does that sound?"

((I don't know who else is still in this, just put yourself in somewhere if you are...))

He nodded to Myra. "Do call me Jekyll." He turned to Ele, who was still on the phone, he made a writing motion in the air. "Pen and paper." Jekyll turned back to Myra and motioned towards a table. "We're going to need to plan this down to the letter. Shit will be by the skin of our teeth as is. We can not afford any fuck ups."

((Sidenote: Az get on Msn. xP))

Delinquent motioned for Dolly and Carlyle to follow him as he stepped toward the door and unlatched the bolt. Stepping out into the rain he paused a moment as he looked to the sidewalk, a pistol laid on the ground, abandoned by the owner. Delinquent walked over to the weapon, his sneakers sloshing in the rain with each step. Setting a knee on the cold, wet cement that made up the unforgiving sidewalk the wrestler lifted the weapon and gazed at the custom etching in the side of the muzzlel; "Ricky's Toy!"

"Well, aint that some shit... Boy must have pissed himself and went straight," Delinquent smiled as he looked back to the two lovers huddled in the doorway that protected them from the rain.

Delinquent tossed the weapon into a dumpster, only one half the lid was open indicating that someone had been in the dumpster earlier. He stepped to the drivers door of his Charge Cisco, the splashing mud and rain combining on the sides of the car to darken the bright white paint job. Looking up a moment he met the eyes of DevilDolly and Carlyle and he sighed a moment, "Hope you have a ride and a led foot."

With a resonding thunk the door opened and moved out of the way to allow the vehicles master into the compartment where the leather seats wrapped around his muscular figure. With a push of the ignition button the vehicle roared to life, expressing its anger at being wet and dirty.

I couldn't help but flash a grin, nodding. "I brought the Bish. Always preferred driving anyways." I led Dolly to my girl, the shiny Red masterpiece awaited as I pet her along the roof before getting in. "Miss me?"

I started the car, waiting for Del to give us the go ahead.

Back in the coffee shop, Myra retrieved a pen from her pocket and grabbed a napkin off the table to jot down notes on, then set them both between her and... Jekyll.
"Honestly? I'm not sure how much of this we can map out ahead of time. It's hardly a sane plan, and I think we're just going to have to roll with the punches. Besides, we can't do too much until Del and the others get the information we need. We can pick up the trucks and the gear, but that's about it I think."

"Yes it is hardly sane. But we don't have much of a choice. You are correct." He began to scribble down some things on the napkin. "We're going to have to move fast, and be ready to hit them hard. I'm not sure how you plan to execute your part, but thats why we're sitting here. We have to use all the time we have. We can't let this go Fubar."