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Snippet #2485788

located in Digital Shorts, a part of Digital Shorts, one of the many universes on RPG.

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Character Portrait: Mr. Eckhard Character Portrait: Ryia Hawkins
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Iazu

Monsoon Cuisine


Merek chewed a piece of chicken tiki masala, an Indian inspired dish from back on Earth. The place was rather tasty altogether. It was midafternoon and they had the buffet running. Everything had a ton of spice in it, giving a kickstart to his system.

You're never going to believe this Merek.

What's up? He scooped up plain white rice with the masala sauce, putting it in his mouth. One of the far overlooked benefits of an internal aug was that eating and talking came from different places. It made multitasking convenient.

An easy payday just got easier. Merek had been chilling in Iazu, laying low for Ry to get a bead on their target. Benny Z was to be delivered to Miss Chow. It sounded simple enough.

How's that?

He has quite a little entourage. Apparently one of his girls wanted exclusive rights to him and he threw her out on the street. She is giving up his location for 10% of the take.

Fuck that, get the location and we'll stiff her. He knew Ry could find a crack somewhere and locate Ben, it was a matter of time.

Merek. She already gave the location up to Dynamo and they took the deal, funds transferred up front. I tried cracking the comm but it was rather well protected, one of their pros must be signing up for this one. Take the deal or lose it. Now that was a complication, Merek thought. He couldn't let Dynamo get the jump.

Alright . . . send the damn money from the slush fund, I imagine Interceptor will be on the run for it soon as well, then this little bitch makes out with what is really 30% for no work.

Smart girl if you ask me.

Merek smirked. She was greedy, that's for damn sure.
------------
Benny was running the table. Texas Hold'em poker was the game, 10,000 credit buy in was the stake for each man. Winner takes 40k; loser doubles their money with 20k. It started with six of them, he'd taken two out already an hour and a half in. His chip stack dwarfed the competition. Taking into account his internal augs that helped with variables and probability, and you could give the 40k to him already. It was a nice, lower-stakes friendly game of poker among fellow scumbags.

The game was taking place in the Kennison family basement. It was a high class neighborhood, the Kennison's were money launderers and accountants. Gambling without a license was illegal, as well as the drugs at the table.

"Come here girl!" Benny called out to one of his two female companions on the side. Natasha came swaying over, wide hips bouncing side to side. When she reached him he threw her torso on top the table lightly, spanking her on the ass. She yelped in delight and he squeezed hard.

"Before the next hand, who wants to do a line of Vizz off Nat here?" None of the guys seemed to mine. He lined up the Vizz, one hell of a stimulant, on her lower back and ass. They all took turns snorting and turned back to the game. Benny sent Nat back with a kiss and thumbed her nose.

Gretchen had been his favorite, despite her horrible name. She was the youngest of them all, barely legal if he recalled right. The girl had fallen for him and gave an ultimatum before they came in the Kennison house. If she couldn't have him to herself, she was out.

Well, the bitch was out. Benny laughed, wondering what she was doing after getting thrown out on the street. Other than the players and their ladies, the rest of the players' entrouages were waiting out in the first room. Hell, there was something like a total of 14 bodyguards chilling. The two losers sat at the bar off to the side, chatting with Donald Kennison, heir to the family throne if his ancient father ever died. Rumor was Ted Kennison had a state of the art longevity aug that helped keep the body running.

The dealer dealt the next hand. Benny got pocket aces, the odds went through the roof. Time to take someone else out.
------------------
Merek pulled up in a taxi, money transferring to the cabbie as he got out, down the street from the Kennison household. As he started strolling toward the family home, another taxi pulled up. Out of it stepped a long-legged, graceful redhead.
The same one that had watched him pull a bounty a few months back, leaving the threat of a future meeting. She saw him as she got out of the vehicle, smiling. Luckily she did not have her gigantic disruptor with her. After the disaster that happened at his last mission, the last thing he wanted was a nerve-rattling blast to his augs.

"Fancy meeting you here." Her hand was at her hip, caressing the holster of her weapon.

Merek smiled at her. "You know I'm quicker than you."

Her eyes twinkled back at him, "Quicker maybe, but more accurate? Maybe we should find out?" Neither of them brought an arsenal to this job. Both had small caliber handguns, different versions of grenades and flashbangs, as well as some melee weapons. She had a damn mace hanging from her belt. He had brought a collapsable metal rod with him.

A third vehicle showed up, dropping another figure off. He was a thinner man, hair graying at the temples. He only half stepped out of the vehicle, waiting.

The woman from Dynamo turned to him, "Who the hell are you with?"

"Interceptor Solutions. Name is Wyatt."

"Well fuck me." Merek said.

He and the woman prepared to draw on each other and fire, until Wyatt raised a hand, meter still running on the taxi. "I have a proposal."

They turned to him.

"We all have the same tip. Who the hell knows if some smaller collection agency may head here too. There's 60k of unlicensed gambling money in their right now, if Gretchen is to be believed. The payday from Ms. Chow is what, 25k? We all help each other, one of us gets to take the perp in, the other two get money from the table. All three parties win."

"You think this wildcat is going to take that deal?" Merek interjected. A long pause followed.

"I think I can take that deal. I get the Chow delivery though." She frowned, "And I get 3k or so from the poker take. Just to be fair." Astute, the Dynamo girl didn't want to be shorted on any end.

"And how the hell don't we know you're going to just shoot us in the back? You work for Dynamo after all." Merek shot at her.

Wyatt brows went taught, waiting for her response.

"Boys, I march to the beat of my own drum. Dynamo is damn lucky to have me, and if they want to keep it that way, I can do what I want."

What is going on here Merek? Pretty risky if you ask me.

Ry, I don't think I'll be needing much more from you on this. Keep my head empty unless it is an emergency.
-------------------------------------
Carl sat on the plush sofa, sipping at his Long Island. Martian Soccer was on TV. The bodyguards had placed bets on the game, no lack of gambling anywhere on the premises. He was here as a guard for Mr. Martin Kasdale, a B movie actor in Martian cinema. He had once been A-List until his drug abuse sent him down to B-level, now he enjoyed having a guard to crush the paparazzi.

Then he saw the object come flying through the air down into the middle of the room.

Most of the hooligans stared at it in curiosity. Carl had served in the Martian Militia, graduating with high honors. It was a fucking stun bomb, one that assaulted the ears and eyes with a bright flash and one hell of a concussion blast. He dove over the back of the sofa, covering his ears as it went off. Even with his ears protected his ears were ringing.

He rose, seeing half of the guys collapsed to the ground, others dazed. One of the serving girls was caught in the middle of the blast, unconscious on the ground. A small man turned to him and smiled from the stairway, obviously having an aug that helped him resist the blast. Then his smile dropped as three figures descended down the stairs.

If only one of them had come down the room, they would have gotten swarmed, even with the flash bang. A lot of the guards had risen, though weakened, but the figures mowed through them. A female had a large mace in her hands, clubbing men unconcious or liquidating their knees. The thin guy of the group, who looked like anyone's grandpa, shot tranq darts into as many guards as he could in rapid succession. The third figure hopped down the stairs with a mask that had a skull painted on it, catching the small man in the face with a rod, splitting his nose and sending him into the carpet.

The Kennison's had taken all their firearms and locked them up. Carl, he had other plans. He pressed a button on the outside of his left calf, as a crater sized hole opened up on his thigh. The pistol inside was something of his own creation, holding a toxin inside that would seize the heart up.

Halfway through the crowd of men, with bones shattering and skin shredding, the last half were less affected by the blast. All the men could do was earn their money and hopefully give their employers enough time to flee out the back door. The guy who had been sitting next to him, Orson, landed a solid hook to the thin man's face, knocking him over a chair. The skull faced figure brought the rod up between Orson's legs, likley bursting a testicle from the horrendous roar that came out.

Carl raised the pistol and fired, hitting the red-headed woman in the chest. He saw the skull turn to him, and in what he swore was less than a second he was staring right into the man's gray, lifeless eyes. A blade had pierced him through the chest. Carl looked down and saw the enemy's elbow digging deep into his chest. The man drew the blade out and Carl fell to the ground, bleeding out.
----------------------------------
After stabbing the bearded man through the heart, Merek turned to see a man bringing his foot down toward the female's face in a stomp. He drew his pistol and blew the man's foot off, a spray of blood showering her face and the ground below as the target fell to the ground, clutching his leg. They had been going non-lethal through this mission, the bearded man broke that pact. The remaining men surrendered, falling to their knees and placing their hands on their head.

Wyatt looked to the door, "The target!"

"You go." Merek walked over to the woman, seeing her face contort in pain as her chest spasmed.

"What are you doing man? Dynamo isn't beyond killing us for one cred. She knew the risks."

"Get the fucking target Wyatt, what the hell are you waiting for." The cycle of violence had to stop somewhere. He saw Wyatt run into the next room, his tranq gun going off. Merek grabbed the woman by the back of the head, rising it off the ground and putting his face in front of hers.

"If your internal aug is giving you any information, now would be the time to let me know if I can help you."

"Ov . . . . ose."

"What?"

"Over . . . dose." He grabbed the gun from the dead man's hand, checking the rounds out. It looked like they were laced with drugs inside. An overdose. He smiled down at her. "This isn't 100% to work, but I might be able to save you." He reached into his utility belt for one of his adrenaline refills, stabbing the needle down into her heart, releasing the rush.
She seized up again and he held her down. One of the men who had surrendered ran for the door, Merek let him go. The rest of the guys who weren't too beaten to get up on their own kept running.

The guy on the floor, bleeding out of his footless leg, called out. "You going to help me too man?"

"Go fuck yourself." The Dynamo agent seemed to be recovering.

Merek rose, joining Wyatt in the next room. A face he recognized as the owner of the home, Donald Kennison, sat at the table, tranquilized along with a few others.

"A few of them made it out the back exit, Benny Z nowhere to be found. Chalk it up as a loss, we'll get another shot at him." Wyatt reloaded his weapon. "The girl dead?"

"I think she'll be okay." Through the backdoor was a long hallway, leading to a staircase that went up into the backyard. There were a few doors to rooms before the stairs.

"Wyatt, come here." The older man joined him in the hall.

"Benny Z is a gambler by heart, and he knows the odds. But, he still gets into deep shit betting when he wouldn't. That means he likes to go against the odds."

"And?"

"Odds are we would come running out here and chasing whatever fucks ran out the back door. A gambling man might be in one of these bedrooms." Footsteps sounded behind them, as the Dynamo agent was back on her feet, though visibly worn.

"Kick these doors down then." She said.

Benny Z was in the third room they checked, clenching a woman's mouth so hard to keep her quiet it appeared as if he suffocated her.

Merek turned to the woman, "All yours."

"Please guys, I've got 60k in winnings out there, it is yours if you let me go."

Wyatt chuckled. "It is already ours son." He shot the man with the tranquilizer, nodding to the woman. He went and retrieved his take, leaving.

Merek watched her try to lift the man over her shoulder, but she was too exhausted. "Need some help with that?" She glared back.

He helped her by carrying the guy to the transport her tech had waiting for her outside. Similarly, Ry had one waiting for him.

"Don't expect me to say thanks."

"Damn, that's fucked up." He laughed at her stubborness, "At least a name?"

"Claire." She threw the body into the back of the vehicle. "But, at least I won't kill you in the future. Plus, Red Sands is okay in my book." She stared off in the direction that Wyatt's transport had gone. "I would have let you die, you know."
He let it sink in for her. "I'm a killer, have been all my life. I'd say I know damn well better than you how to kill." Claire offered no argument. "But giving life, now that is a real thrill. Killing deadens me, ironically enough." He walked over to his transport, hearing her rush up behind him.

Merek turned quickly, anticipating an attack. She laughed. "Take this." It was the brown bag that held her 5k from the gambling fund. She found a nonverbal way to say thanks.

Claire left in her transport as Merek got into his, motioning the pilot to fly him back to Cangwu.

What was that? Got a little romance brewing?

I'm not the romantic type Ry. If I ever do have a serious relationship, it would have to be with someone from the same lifestyle. I can't see myself dating a businesswoman or a single mom. He thought about it a moment. She reminds me of what a grown up Eron would look like.

Eron was one of the first children who died in the Godiva experients, also a red-head.

You and that redhead weakness. That woman is dangerous.

Look at my dossier and tell me that Interceptor and Dynamo don't think the same thing of me.