BigBubblehead
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Feb 11, 2014
- Posts
- 287
Saturday 22 March 2014
Washington DC
Outside "The Wrong Place":
The black sedan pulled down the alley slowly, its headlights extinguished. It stopped short of the sidewalk, leaving it hidden while giving the two men inside it an unobstructed view of the building across the road. The passenger checked his watch, then pressed the send button on his cell phone, dispatching the pre-written text message.
A moment later, a shrill sound indicated that the fire alarm had been pulled inside the dance club. Two club workers were the first outside, shooing away the queue and removing the felt ropes. A moment later -- as the sedan's passenger exited and started slowly across the road -- the club's occupants flooded the street, followed quickly by a cloud of smoke that wafted up the old building's façade.
As the man waited in the middle of the street, he pulled a small device from his pocket. It would have appeared to be a large smart phone to anyone hurrying past him, but on its screen was a red dot that was moving toward the bottom -- moving toward him -- and a distance measurement that was growing smaller with each passing second.
When the number reached 15 feet -- the distance between the man and the sidewalk before the club -- he looked up and scanned the crowd. Ten seconds later, he found her. Her face was filled with panic and she was coughing, as were many of the others. The man in the street couldn't help but let his gaze drop from her familiar face to her less familiar body: she wore tight fitting clothes that showed her womanly curves, making him think thoughts he really shouldn't have been contemplating at this crucial moment.
He moved several steps to his right to put him in the path of the young woman and just as she passed, grasped her tightly at the elbow and stuck the needle he'd been hiding into her neck. She reacted with shock, but before she could even consider a second action, her body began to weaken.
He slipped his arm around her body and supported her as he headed for the car. They didn't look conspicuous, but even if they had, the other couple of hundred people scattering all about had their own concerns...
When she regained consciousness, she was in a deep, soft chair in a non-descript hotel room, a thick blanket covering her body to keep her warm against the chill of pre-dawn. The man who'd helped her away from the club was alerted, and he walked over to stand before her. As her eyes cleared, the semi-automatic pistol hanging from a shoulder holster on his left side was only too obvious.
"Good morning, Miss," he said politely. He gestured to the man behind him and spoke in a language she wouldn't understand -- Eastern European maybe, Ukrainian possibly -- then turned back to her and asked, "Coffee...? Tea maybe?"
The confusion in her eyes was obvious and, as it was, justified. The second man stepped over with an already poured mug of coffee and handed it to his partner.
"My name is Gregory," the man before her said, offering out the mug. "I am here to protect you. You are safe with us."
If she looked about her, she would find the coffee-serving man -- also armed with a large semi-automatic under his arm pit -- and a third man, his attention on a laptop next to which were both a riot-style shotgun and an urban-style automatic rifle. The thick shades were closed over the windows, and beyond the closed bathroom door, the sound of the shower running was evident.
Nothing else about the room made it appear to be anything but a $59 a night motel room. Outside, the sound of the freeway could be heard in the distance, but other than that, there was nothing to tell her where she was, nor how long she'd been unconscious.
(OOC: If you interested in an espionage adventure that will include sexual situations -- that will likely be as uncomfortable for your character as they are exciting -- PM me.)
Washington DC
Outside "The Wrong Place":
The black sedan pulled down the alley slowly, its headlights extinguished. It stopped short of the sidewalk, leaving it hidden while giving the two men inside it an unobstructed view of the building across the road. The passenger checked his watch, then pressed the send button on his cell phone, dispatching the pre-written text message.
A moment later, a shrill sound indicated that the fire alarm had been pulled inside the dance club. Two club workers were the first outside, shooing away the queue and removing the felt ropes. A moment later -- as the sedan's passenger exited and started slowly across the road -- the club's occupants flooded the street, followed quickly by a cloud of smoke that wafted up the old building's façade.
As the man waited in the middle of the street, he pulled a small device from his pocket. It would have appeared to be a large smart phone to anyone hurrying past him, but on its screen was a red dot that was moving toward the bottom -- moving toward him -- and a distance measurement that was growing smaller with each passing second.
When the number reached 15 feet -- the distance between the man and the sidewalk before the club -- he looked up and scanned the crowd. Ten seconds later, he found her. Her face was filled with panic and she was coughing, as were many of the others. The man in the street couldn't help but let his gaze drop from her familiar face to her less familiar body: she wore tight fitting clothes that showed her womanly curves, making him think thoughts he really shouldn't have been contemplating at this crucial moment.
He moved several steps to his right to put him in the path of the young woman and just as she passed, grasped her tightly at the elbow and stuck the needle he'd been hiding into her neck. She reacted with shock, but before she could even consider a second action, her body began to weaken.
He slipped his arm around her body and supported her as he headed for the car. They didn't look conspicuous, but even if they had, the other couple of hundred people scattering all about had their own concerns...
When she regained consciousness, she was in a deep, soft chair in a non-descript hotel room, a thick blanket covering her body to keep her warm against the chill of pre-dawn. The man who'd helped her away from the club was alerted, and he walked over to stand before her. As her eyes cleared, the semi-automatic pistol hanging from a shoulder holster on his left side was only too obvious.
"Good morning, Miss," he said politely. He gestured to the man behind him and spoke in a language she wouldn't understand -- Eastern European maybe, Ukrainian possibly -- then turned back to her and asked, "Coffee...? Tea maybe?"
The confusion in her eyes was obvious and, as it was, justified. The second man stepped over with an already poured mug of coffee and handed it to his partner.
"My name is Gregory," the man before her said, offering out the mug. "I am here to protect you. You are safe with us."
If she looked about her, she would find the coffee-serving man -- also armed with a large semi-automatic under his arm pit -- and a third man, his attention on a laptop next to which were both a riot-style shotgun and an urban-style automatic rifle. The thick shades were closed over the windows, and beyond the closed bathroom door, the sound of the shower running was evident.
Nothing else about the room made it appear to be anything but a $59 a night motel room. Outside, the sound of the freeway could be heard in the distance, but other than that, there was nothing to tell her where she was, nor how long she'd been unconscious.
(OOC: If you interested in an espionage adventure that will include sexual situations -- that will likely be as uncomfortable for your character as they are exciting -- PM me.)
