AkutenshiPrince
Virgin
- Joined
- Jun 15, 2001
- Posts
- 13
He crossed well built arms as he scanned the small room, the metal table was situated under the single bright lamp, Nicholas always had a thing for the cliche spots and settings. His short hair was cropped up, and that angular face well shaven, with just a tint of dark stubble. He didn't smile, and his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, a sleeveless shirt covered a barrel chest, and held tight down to where it tucked into loose pants. At both hips hung empty pistol holsters, as it was against the rule to bring your weapons into the meeting room.
"Alright... we all here?" He removed the glasses, displaying his hazel eyes, narrowed slightly as he nodded, and turned to the video screen that flickered to life. "You all know what this is, right?" Obviously a map of Philadelphia and surrounding regions, home of their current 'Headquarters,' and site of their next mission. "Intel tells us that a small faction known as the TLS, Terrorist Liberation Society, is demanding the US government to release key members of their organization that were taken into custody just last month during a raid. Our employer, who decided to remain anonymous, has decided our help would be most beneficial." The video screen zoomed onto the industrial district, to a small, fenced off section of warehouses. "They've been pinpointed to this location by Intel, and it is believed they will make their strike from here, one week from today. Our job is to halt that strike in our normal fashion."
Nicholas turned back to the troop, they weren't a SWAT team, they didn't have a code of ethics to follow, merely, make a plan, execute, and collect. It got the job done, and it got them all paid. What else did a mercenary ask for?
His eyes passed over his fellow 'warriors,' as he liked to call them, and he nodded. "I have no doubt that not only can we succeed in this mission. It's a walk in the park for us."
The map vanished, and was replaced by three pictures. The first was of a young Arabian man, looking about 26, in a business suit. The second was a grizzled old Arabian man, with a long, curling beard and gray hairs, he looked more along the lines of 75. Finally, the third picture was one of an American, about 25-30, with dark hair and eyes, it looked like a driver's liscense photo, or a mugshot. Nicholas pointed to the first picture.
"Alaheb Makash. He's the legal end, keeping the eyes of the powers that be pointed in the wrong direction. He's currently situated with a 'peace keeping mission' in the White House, working to try and come to terms with the terrorist problem. Intel tells me there's a good chance he's the trigger of the gun that will go off if the government doesn't give in."
The second picture was gestured to, "Rahem Makash. He's the main person they're searching for in this deal. If they get him out, it's all their game. He's held in an undisclosed location, and the government would like to keep it that way."
The final picture was pointed at. "David Landon. He's an insider, working what, Intel doesn't know. He's an eel, untouchable and slippery as hell. Personally, he smells like an arms dealer. I can't tell though."
Nicholas flicked off the video screen, and leaned against the table, his arms flexing for a moment. "Any questions?" Nicholas took another sweep of his assembled persons, not all men so he couldn't call them 'his men,' but his persons.
"Alright... we all here?" He removed the glasses, displaying his hazel eyes, narrowed slightly as he nodded, and turned to the video screen that flickered to life. "You all know what this is, right?" Obviously a map of Philadelphia and surrounding regions, home of their current 'Headquarters,' and site of their next mission. "Intel tells us that a small faction known as the TLS, Terrorist Liberation Society, is demanding the US government to release key members of their organization that were taken into custody just last month during a raid. Our employer, who decided to remain anonymous, has decided our help would be most beneficial." The video screen zoomed onto the industrial district, to a small, fenced off section of warehouses. "They've been pinpointed to this location by Intel, and it is believed they will make their strike from here, one week from today. Our job is to halt that strike in our normal fashion."
Nicholas turned back to the troop, they weren't a SWAT team, they didn't have a code of ethics to follow, merely, make a plan, execute, and collect. It got the job done, and it got them all paid. What else did a mercenary ask for?
His eyes passed over his fellow 'warriors,' as he liked to call them, and he nodded. "I have no doubt that not only can we succeed in this mission. It's a walk in the park for us."
The map vanished, and was replaced by three pictures. The first was of a young Arabian man, looking about 26, in a business suit. The second was a grizzled old Arabian man, with a long, curling beard and gray hairs, he looked more along the lines of 75. Finally, the third picture was one of an American, about 25-30, with dark hair and eyes, it looked like a driver's liscense photo, or a mugshot. Nicholas pointed to the first picture.
"Alaheb Makash. He's the legal end, keeping the eyes of the powers that be pointed in the wrong direction. He's currently situated with a 'peace keeping mission' in the White House, working to try and come to terms with the terrorist problem. Intel tells me there's a good chance he's the trigger of the gun that will go off if the government doesn't give in."
The second picture was gestured to, "Rahem Makash. He's the main person they're searching for in this deal. If they get him out, it's all their game. He's held in an undisclosed location, and the government would like to keep it that way."
The final picture was pointed at. "David Landon. He's an insider, working what, Intel doesn't know. He's an eel, untouchable and slippery as hell. Personally, he smells like an arms dealer. I can't tell though."
Nicholas flicked off the video screen, and leaned against the table, his arms flexing for a moment. "Any questions?" Nicholas took another sweep of his assembled persons, not all men so he couldn't call them 'his men,' but his persons.
