The Damned of Tranquil (IC)

The one known as Soki walked into the office of the Magistrate of his city. The man knows as Tohitsu stood there and saluted Soki, who just waved two fingers from his skull and sighed. "I was summoned and for what..?" A file was laid in front of the male and without waiting for any words to be said to him, he picked it up. "Your to retrieve a sample, or both if the case maybe from the Tranquility disaster.." Soki looked up with calculating eyes, and then shrugged. "If that's it I'll be leaving then.." He said beginning to walk out of the office. When he was grabbed forcefully by someone much bigger then him and then he Scoffed. "Let me guess not that simple..?" he asked and Tohitsu shook his head. "No your to be vaccinated just in case, and you'll also not to set off any alarms..This is covert something your suppose to be good at remember this.." Soki only pulled away and rolled his eyes.

"I understand and I'll be going to New york right? cool, I always wondered what It'd be like to kick the shit out of a bunch of Americans.." he said with a smirk. He walked out of the office and towards the med-bay for his vaccination. After this he grabbed his gear from his locker near the Garage and was in his car on the way to the Airport. "Soki..?" one of his new colleges called to him, Shaking him out of his daze. looking down he realized he was wearing one of the researchers coats. "Y-yes..?" he asked rubbing at his forehead. "You okay..?" Soki nodded his head, "Yes let's just go down and see if We're needed.." he said calmly, and off they went. Soki had spent three months trying to get into this place, and the best way he could, was from inside, and just a few more steps he'd be directly in front of the samples. He didn't realize there were more samples, but they were the ones he was told about. They stopped at they door a card was swiped. The door swung open, and then a sharp pain could have been felt surging through the other Researcher's body. Soki pulling back, and catching the man as he leaned him against the door. "Sorry friend just business.." He said and winked being he had used a small stun gun, and was inside the high security room both cameras and a few guards, though they didn't see the scene thankfully.

Soki walked up and handed his I.D to the man and was let through. With that he began to gather data, uploading it to his P.D.A and with the short amount of time, thanks to the little diversion he had planted on the B1 level, in the boiler room. Gripping the detonator he set the explosion off. Gathering up both the samples, but a devious smile sat on his face. "I guess alittle on contact Data wouldn't hurt.." He said as he threw one of the small vials shattering it against something, and with that He walked out. What they didn't realize was that he was covert, undercover agent for the Japanese government wanting these samples for their own use. Though Soki's feelings were effected by this. He had to eat too, and this would set him up for retirement age as well. While the guards were distracted with the explosion. He simple Walked out faster then before, and stopped at his little office, grabbing his gear and his duffel bag sliding the vial and it's case into one of the smaller pockets. He moved towards the front door, after a thorough check. (or so they thought) He was out and amongst the people, dialing a number on his cell he smiled. "I've got one of the samples, the other..well I'm wanting to collect some life Data so I shattered it in the building.." He said calmly, "Thought It might be interesting in such a large scale city.." He said calmly and then hung up, without waiting for an answer. This was the start of the disaster that would be codenamed:The Damned; and though official records never claimed it true it was started by a man, no a shadow.

Returning to his small apartment. He slipped out of the restricting garments of the researcher's and dawned his stealth suit, which to most was like a second skin, showing all the natural curves of his skinny yet toned body, the broad shoulders the strong legs. He looked more like a Track star then an assassin covert operative, But what did it matter. He brushing black hair back while sliding on his mask and then the rest of his gear taking the vial container and putting it one of the pockets on his belt, and strapping his Odatsu (name of his Nodachi Katana) onto his back. He was out of the room the rent on the bed, and was soon on the roof tops of the building and running across it waiting for the true disaster to start.

Sage looked around the oval office casually as he waited for the president to return. He watched the faces of the two younger agents that stood beside him as they sweat and fidgeted out of nervousness. He, on the other hand, was completely calm, even at peace here in front of the President's desk. After all, he had been a PSCTF agent for a few years now, and so far, standing in front of this desk had been the easiest part of his jobs. It seemed he always got the most dangerous missions in this room. When it was the small stuff, a messenger would find him, or he'd get an anonymous phone call that gave him all the details in code, but in here, in the President's own office, he was given the S class jobs... Sage chuckled a little to himself when he remembered the last mission he had received here. What was it again? Ah, that assignment in Brazil... That had hardly counted as an S class mission. He had stopped that uprising in a matter of days. All it took was a few hundred pounds of explosives and two well placed bullets. He chuckled a little more at how easy it was back then.

Then, he remembered the assignment before that. The trip to the city of Tranquility. That had been his most difficult an life threatening assignment yet. It was a true wonder that he had escaped alive, especially with as many survivors. Sage's thoughts were interrupted mid-stream when the president and two secret service agents showed up in the doorway. The President bid the agents to stay at the door for a moment so that he could be alone with the three. The agents eyed the two rookies warily, but calmed when they saw Sage in the room. The President closed the door behind him and sat at his desk with a new file in his hands. He looked down at it for a second before looking up at the three. "Men," He started to say as he crossed his hands over the file, "You have a very important mission today. You are here to be charged with transporting the Tranquility viruses out of the facilities in New York City." The old man gave the younger operatives a piercing stare as they both gulped upon hearing their assignment.

"Remember, these viruses cause terrible devastation in major cities such as New York. The first of the two creates a text book example of a zombie, grey skin, zero thought process, and a hunger for flesh. If one the those samples are released, it will spread across an area of two miles before it dies out. From there it spreads through the bites of said 'zombies'. The second mutates the human body into disgusting creatures the likes of which none of us other than Sage can imagine. The virus will die out quickly after infecting a number of people, and this one can not be spread, but it is still highly dangerous in a denselt populated city. You can not allow these samples to be released! This task may require you to put your lives on the line, it may even require you to sacrifice the lives of innocent civilians... But you will do it. You must protect and deliver these samples at all costs." Sage was the first to speak up now, seeing as the other two were too nervous to respond. "And where will we be delivering these samples to, sir?" He asked with a rather casual tone. A smile crept across the President's face as Sage spoke up. "Why, here son. To the labs here in the capitol where they can be locked away behind the thickest doors, and be guarded by the largest forces we can provide." This brought a smile to Sage's face. It would be nice to finally be rid of those damned bio-weapons.

The President continued after seeing that Sage was satisfied with his answer, "Alright, Alexis Medrano," He started, giving them their designations individually, "You will retrieve the samples from the facility on Long Island. James Carmine, you will retrieve the samples from the facility in Little Italy. Finally, Sage Akia, you will retrieve the samples in central Manhattan." All three men nodded in confirmation and the President leaned back in his chair. "Alright then, you are all dismissed." Sage saluted the President and walked out quickly, leaving the other two behind. He was going by car, so he had to leave quickly... And he really didn't want to end up sharing a ride with one of the newbies. Much to his distaste, the younger one, Carmine, was following close behind him. Sadly, he also got into the same car as him. Curse those scientists for putting the two facilities close enough together for this...

Sage had fallen asleep somewhere in New Jersey, and was only woken when the car was suddenly stopped and his younger colleague hit his head on the dashboard, giving off quite the loud bang. Sage shrugged off the grogginess of sleep and looked up to see what was going on... and almost immediately he wished he had been a heavier sleeper. They had reached NYC, but they had not arrived on the scene he had expected. It was late afternoon now, and the city was in turmoil. Buildings were burning, sirens were going off from every direction, and people were attempting to flee the city, leaving in screaming flocks somewhere behind them. The driver of their car had apparently recognized what was going on now from his briefings, either that or he wanted to become another looter, and had fled the vehicle, leaving them somewhere on what would usually be a busy street. However, right now it was a scene Sage had become quite accustomed to... One of destroyed building and dead bodies... Several of said bodies were of a greyish tone and had ripped flesh on their shoulders or upper torso.. As if they had been bitten by a wild beast. Sage gave a deep sigh and his palm immediately found its way to his face. "Not again..." He said as his other hand went instinctively to one of the 1911 colts at his waist. He pulled the gun from its holster quickly and pulled back the small lever in front of the trigger, the one that pulled back the slide, loading a bullet into the chamber.

"Carmine... Are you alive?" His question was responded to with a small groan from the seat in front of him. "You might want to try again before I shoot you..." Sage said cautiously. That seemed to wake the young agent up pretty quickly and he quickly undid his seat belt to turn around. "I'm fine, sir." The boy said, his eyes focusing more on the gun than Sage. "What do you think happened here, sir?" Sage sighed. You'd think that question would be one his eyes could answer for him. "One of the samples must have been broken.. And from the looks of it, it has had a while to spread." Sage undid his own seat belt and grabbed for his bag in the seat next to him. The bag gave a loud clanking noise like that of gun metal as he pulled it closer and shouldered the strap. "Come on, grab your bag and take out a weapon... I think we'll be walking from here." The boy nodded and Sage opened to door, stepping out once he did. The smell hit him first, the smell of burning and rotting flesh. Soon came the sound. From all around the city he could hear the groans of the walking dead... It was just like Tranquility... Carmine got out of the car a minute later, shouldering a duffle bag and holding a .44 revolver. Sage would have been rather impressed by the gun if under a different situation, but for now he had to focus on the situation at hand. He fished his phone out of his pocket, a good-sized high tech touchscreen that PSCTF agents were given, and accessed its GPS. Sage pointed down the street to his left and immediately started walking as he pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. "Come on, Carmine. This way."

Jericho ran a hand through his hair, sitting in the office of some police detective or the like. He hadn't been arrested, rather, he was requested to come in to look at something for some of the men here. They had probably run into something they wanted a third parties eye to look at, fair enough. As long as they gave him some sort of pay rather than the civil duty speech again, he would be more then glad to help out. He had his hat on the steel table in front of him, the chair equally bare in decoration. It was originally an interrogation room, but had uses as a secure room to discuss matters of a sensitive vain. Last time he had been called in here was a serial rapist, killing his victims after having his way with them. After seeing several scenes of each crime, he had managed to pull together a Modus Operandi, MO, on the criminal. That enabled them to set up a bait target and have him observed. The strangest part was the fact it had to be a male bait. The suspect who attempted to kidnap the bait was nearly arrested, but put up a fight and was shot and bled out before an ambulance could arrive. He was paid and swept under the rug, a bit extra so he would keep his mouth shut about having a hand in that case. This train of thought was cut off when an older looking gentleman walked in, hanging his coat up and sitting across from Jericho, who still had his light duster on despite the fact they were indoors. The man spoke, devoid of facial expression. "I assume no one has explained why you were asked to come here, correct?" Jericho nodded, pulling out a cigarette he had with him. "Yea, your officers failed to inform me. Bum a light?" The detective, from the look of his badge, nodded, taking out a lighter and lighting the cigarette for Jericho. A nod of thanks from Jericho, and the detective continued.

"Well, I'll keep it simple then. You read those articles about unusual disappearances as of late, right? Well, we believe an underground drug war is brewing, these kidnappings being the warning signs. Regular police detectives can't get close, the last guy that went undercover was found dead in a dumpster. Your not officially a police detective, so you can get farther. At least, I hope you can, correct?" Jericho whistled softly, taking a drag on his cancer stick. Last time he tangled with the criminal underworld was shortly before the NYPD had taken much notice of him. Some women came to him, out of options probably, saying her husband had gone missing. He had, in a way, serving some mistress in a petty two bit gang that wanted to muscle in. He, along with his mistress, were arrested thanks to his information, and he and his wife divorced. He got paid and that was that. But going after the drug rings? That was dangerous, only an idiot didn't know that. Which is why their sending you, the rational part of his mind calmly informed him. "Yea, I might be able to pull it off. How much am I getting paid?" The Detective had been expecting this and set a check on the desk. "A hundred grand up front, and another hundred when you've found out whether we need to prepare for a drug war or not." Well, Damn. Two hundred grand in total was a fine bit of change for a man like him. He took the check, standing as he pocketed it. "Right, I'm on it. I'll let you know if I find anything. G'day detective." He pulled his hat on and left, nodding to the officers who brought him in. It saved him from paying for gas, and every cent that he didn't spend went towards rent.

It had been several days since he had taken the case on the drug war, and he hadn't made too much progress just yet. He had gotten in to one of the gangs as a front man watching for trouble at meetings, and heard a fair deal because of it. There had been some scuffling between the gang he was stalking and the other major gang that ran the drug deals in underground NY. He spotted something, and immediately knew he had to do his gang job. He pushed the door open and yelled in. ”Boss! We got hostiles moving in, best clear out!” Being the doorman, the meeting quickly dispersed, the boss walking over to see who was coming. There was a small group, smelling awful and looking real threatening. He clapped the doorman on the shoulder, mentioning a job well done and being useful for when they took the fight to the enemy gang. Bingo! Now he would clear out, put his false name and identity as killed in action, and report in to the detective and get the rest of his pay. It wasn’t good news, but it was what they wanted to know. He also hit the backdoor, watching the gang disperse and he made his way to the street, spotting the small group staggering back out. Something was wrong with them, so as he walked away quickly, he got on the phone, a secured one of course, with the detective. “Jericho, have anything for us?”

“Yea, the one gang is going after the other, which will spark a war. And there is a small mob of strange men following me down the street from meet house B. May want to send a squad car.” Screaming made the call cut short, and he jerked his head as he saw the group pull some poor guy down, tearing into him like there was no tomorrow. There were sirens and the smell of fire beginning to kick off, and he immediately recognized the creatures from the cheap horror flicks he had seen. Zombies, and there was one way to deal with them. He drew his only firearm, a Mateba auto revolver, an Italian weapon that was solid enough. The phone call forgotten, he hung up and pocketed it just in case. He began a brisk walk away from the dead who were feasting right now, heading for his apartment. If he could get to his beaten up Volkswagen, he might be able to get out before the city became too chaotic. Depending on what he ran into, though, he would alter his plan and find a place to bunker down for the time being. Of course, there probably would be looters and such taking advantage of the anarchy to come, so he needed to watch for sentient trouble as well as the undead knd. Hopefully he could avoid narrow ally ways and such where ambushes were easy. With these thoughts in mind, he kept his course steady.

The Smuggler's Inn was a little dive bar that was set in a rather dingy part of town. Neon lights broadcasted in a multitude of colors, trying to grab the attention of anyone dumb enough to wander into this section of the neighborhood. Thankfully, Claudia had a large lump of inheritance to blow through before she would ever be concerned with her bottom line or the fact that she barely had enough customers drop by regularly to pay her bills. In fact, she was so unconcerned with her day to day, that currently she was sitting on one of her own barstools, head plunked down against the oaken countertop as her mess of auburn hair fell around her face. If she hadn't had that annoying little bell installed on the front door earlier in the year, she probably wouldn't have woken up to greet her first customer of the day.

The little golden bell chimed its ding-a-ling ring, causing Claudia to lift her head in annoyance and peer at the 'intruder'. Zach, who owned the gaming store down the road, strode in for his lunchbreak, a grin spread across his rather homely face as he noticed that she looked partially hung over. "Having a g'day already, precious?" The lanky man slid into his usual seat and took out a pack of cigs, placing one between his lips and lighting it up as he watched the girl barely move from her original position. A chuckle soon followed and he stood up on his chair, leaning over the bar and looking around. "Shall I get my own drink then while you sleep it off? I pretty much know where e'rything is around here now." True to his word, Zach reached behind the bar, hooked his hand around and grabbed himself a chilled glass from beneath the bar, angling it under one of the taps. Pushing the lever, he managed to fill his glass halfway full before almost tipping it fully over onto the floor. He whipped the glass around before it could fall and immediately switched the mug out with his cigarette, taking a deep chug before swapping his vices out again and tapping his cigarette against an ashtray.

Claudia finally laughed and shook her head as she kicked the barstool behind her until it flung up against the back wall. "You keep doing that, Zach, and I'm going to have to pay you wages or something." She smiled, rolling her neck to rid herself of the headache that she had experienced since the morning. The bell chimed again and a few more regulars began to filter in for their lunches. "HEY Charley!" she yelled, letting the cook know that it was time for him to get off of his ass and get to work while she roamed from table to table, grabbing orders and slinging drinks. She could have any life she chose, at the moment, and this was it. Regular patrons that knew her and that she knew as well. Patrons that she always watched and knew which ones would be walking home and which would need a cab if they became too intoxicated. It didn't seem like much of a life, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

The following week, Claudia's day played out much like every other day had played out thus far. Her lunchtime regulars had come and gone and she was stuck cleaning tables and chatting with Charley until she heard her bell jingle, but only slightly. It hadn't performed the full-out rattle that usually sounded when someone swung open the doors, which is exactly why Claudia looked up from her work. Her eyes widenened as she saw the huge blood smear across her front door. Someone had apparently been thrown into her front door hard enough for the bell to be tapped, but not hard enough for it to actually swing open? Confused, and scared by the blood, Claudia backed up and yelled for Charley. "Hey Charley. You might wanna call the cops, I think someone just got bea...." before she could finish, a figure lumbered up to her left window, hand slamming against the glass as if trying to break in. Peering out at the maniac, Claudia saw that the male had blood on his face.

"Oh shit..." she mumbled, making a foolish attempt to keep him outside, she lunged forward and switched the lock on the front door, yelling once more for Charley. "HEY CHARLEY WE HAVE A BIT OF A PROBLEM!" she screamed so that he would hear her over the radio that he usually had playing in the kitchen. Some serious shit was going on outside and she thanked the Maker that she had bulletproof glass installed for all of the windows. Perhaps it would keep the insanity out long enough for the cops to come.

Alex stood beside a couple of other agents, in the president's office awaiting his arrival. This was his first time ever receiving orders directly from him since he became an agent. As a newbie he was still a bit nervous, in spite of his outstanding skills and records, he was still better in action then he was when it came to social interaction. He felt as nervous as he was sure he looked, continually straightening his tie and smoothing his jacket.
When the President, accompanied by a pair of secret service agents, he wasn't put to ease at all. The wary looks the secret service men gave him only added to his discomfort. He couldn't help but glance at Sage, since the agents seemed to relax after spotting him there. Alex turned his attention back to the president as he closed the door and quickly crossed the office to his desk, taking a seat. Alex straightened as the president began to speak, listening closely, to make sure he got every detail. He wanted to make sure he had all the needed information to complete this important mission in a timely manner.

At the mention of New York, Alex had to bite his tongue to stop a profane curse from escaping his lips. Instead he voiced his loathing in his mind. But his session of hate was brief, cut off by the piecing stare of the president. He swallowed hard, wondering for a moment if his intense hate for the city had somehow escaped his mind. The idea was cleared away as the president continued to speak. Describing the types of Zombies and the potential dangers involved. Alex bit his lower lip slightly as he absorbed all the detail. It felt like he was in some sort of book with the talk of zombies, it just seemed so supernatural. He may not have any real experience with the tranquility virus, or the zombies it created, but he knew that this was reality and he would have to face it. He mulled over how he was going to execute his assignment, hopping that he wouldn't have to encounter zombies. Not that he was afraid of them, in fact he might have one heck of a time fighting them.

Straightening his tie, yet again, he refocused his attention back to the president as he spoke his name. Alex gave a curt nod, running his tongue over his lips trying not to frown angrily as New York returned to his mind. After the dismissal Alex mimicked Sage, saluting and swiftly leaving the room, relieved to get out of the atmosphere. He kept a straight, professional face until he got outside then it all came out. "New York! Why the ***** does the **** virus got to be in New **** York." He spewed as he piratically stormed over to the car. Alex loathed New York and was totally NOT cool with having to go there on his first mission. Climbing into the car he slammed the door shut and continued to mumble under his breath. When the car didn't start moving Alex looked up at the driver, who was watching him in the rear view mirror. Alex gave the driver a fierce look back through the mirror. Apparently the tall, suit wearing, Hispanic man had gotten his point across because the engine roared to life and the driver's eyes remained on the road.

The drive was long and Alex had slumped down in the seat with his eyes closed, still disgruntled about his destination. The car came to a stop and Alex opened his eyes slowly to look up at his driver. Through the rear view mirror he saw the ghost white face of the driver, but only for a brief moment. The car door opened and the driver vanished. Alex's brow furrowed and he pulled himself into a sitting position. The sight that met his eyes as he peered out the window was more awful than he had thought it might have been. The entire city had been swallowed in turmoil. Buildings burning, rubble was everywhere. People screaming as they tried to flee could be heard above the blare of countless sirens. Alex swallowed, shredded bodies were everywhere, some where of the gray color that the president had mentioned earlier. His face became focused and his right hand slid into his suit. Opening his door he stepped out onto the derby covered street. His eyes became hard and focused. Taking a deep breath of the foul burning flesh smell, he whipped out his trusty MP5. The weapon way as well have appeared from nowhere, since it didn't seem like it should fit under his sleek, black suit. With his left hand he pulled out a much smaller device, his touch screen phone, using it's GPS function, he marked out the direction he should go. Dropping the phone back into his pocket and began to walk. Prepared to react quickly to anything.

"You want me to do WHAT?" Tamira yelled as she looked at the head assassin of the fraternity. He had issued her to travel to New York and assassinate one of the worlds most prestigious hotel owners. Apparently he owed a debt to someone and upon gaining such enormous wealth, had neglected to pay back what he owed. This was a no no in the loan shark world and thus a bounty placed on his head, which didn't bother Tamira at all, she wasn't pissed at the fact of killing the man, but more so the fact of traveling to New York. She recalled the time she had visited New York a few years back with her so called boyfriend and upon arriving, she found out he was not as trusting and committed as she thought. Lots of dark damp memories laid in New York and she did not want to revisit them, but a job was a job.

"Yes I expect you to go to New York and kill him, is that too much to ask?" Ricardo stated as he looked into her eyes, "look, I know what happened to you in New York, why not take it out on the hotel owner, I'm sure you'll enjoy that." Tamira smirked, Ricardo always had a way of lightening the mood even if she wanted to choke him for sending her to New York. Sighing, she turned and walked out of the office, her hips and waist moving and swaying to it's unique rhythm, adding to her already overly exposed sexual appeal.

Ricardo sighed and shook his head, knowing full well that he had feelings for the woman but because of their job, relationships were very hard to maintain and thusly he kept his feelings a secret, still he hoped she wouldn't get into too much trouble, the man she was after held a lot of power and a lot of people worked under him but she was one of the best Assassins in the World, aside from Ricardo and Nicholas, another assassin who had been sent to New York just a few hours before Tamira. Ricardo wondered if Nicholas had made it there yet or not. Turning, he walked out of the office and soon blended with the shadows of the night.

The flight to New York was as boring as ever for Tamira, but she kept a calm persona and held in the ever growing frustration that was caused by a man coughing his lungs out. She hated being near sick people, it irritated her to the max and she often found her blades covered with blood after shortly meeting them. Still, landing on the runway made a sigh of relief escape her lips as she didn't wait for instructions from the pilot or any of this "littler helpers" as Tamira called them. Bag in hand she proceeded off the plane and grabbed the first cab towards New York, but she was not expecting the horror she witnessed when she arrived.

Upon entering the limits of New York, she found rampage, carnage and destruction. She could hear screams and painful gurgling as well as sirens. Putting on her outfit, which was very revealing, and placing her weapons onto her body, she proceeded into New York. It was eery but she had a job to do and she wasn't going to leave until she was sure the target had been neutralized.

Soki sat on a roof of a building alittle smaller then the rest. It was small enough to where he could see the carnage and actually see the blood splatter all over the moving corpses. This brought a smile to his face. He couldn't stand the fact that most Americans went on with their day like no issues existed, and yet every single day someone died and no one cared, not even in his own country. Soki was never one to talk about his past, being something did happen to him back then. He never let it show though, always with a cold demeanor or a shrug of the shoulders.

He shook his head to return to the present, most of the living people were already trying to hide, and most of them were caught. Soki felt a twinge in his heart, a small pain that hadn't been there before, and what brought it was a woman and her child running from several corpses. Soki actually felt his heart skip a beat once again with the mother tripped. He gripped his chest and blinked, but then he burst into laughter. "Wow..I feel pity, for once in my service I feel pity for someone.." He said as he climbed down the building and moved to the defense of the young mother and her child. He stepped in front of the child and his mother, a small sidearm resting in his left hand as he twirled it. "Oh where oh where shall i plant my bullets in you.." He said with a smile. "here..?" he asked the corpse as if expecting an answer as he shot out both it's kneecaps. "No?" He said as he walked forward alittle bit as the corpse began to try and maneuver to get back to it's feet. "How about...here!" he called as he unleashed the rest of the clip right into it's temples splattering brain matter and blood all over the side walk. He realized that he had lost himself to the pleasure of killing again and groaned rubbing at the mask that hid his face, though the sudden feeling of his leg being gripped by small hands made him peer down. "T-thank you.." came a whisper in a delicate high pitched voice. Soki only shrugged. "We can't all be left to die for someone elses sins now can we..?" He asked, as if he thought the child would understand as he walked over to her mother and helped her up. He pulled out two extra clips and reloading one into the gun and handing the other to the mother as well as the gun. "I'll get you somewhere safe...but after that your on your own.." He said with a calm voice, one that held no emotion.

He waited for a nod to show she understood as he turned and began to jog at a slow pace. He had no idea, where they could go or where to stop, but at the sounds of a corpse trying to get into a building, ment another survivor meaning he'd be able to leave the woman behind. He found the corpse just moving against the window bashing on it. He blinked and tilted his head snickering. moving up behind it and gripping it's chin he snapped his wrist breaking it's neck quickly as he knocked on the door hard. "Let us in please..I've got a woman and child out here..and well I move faster when alone" he called out. He knew it was dangerous to get loud in the middle of a corpse invested city, but right now he didn't care he wanted to ditch the luggage and get back to watching the carnage, and hopefully his heart would stay frozen this time.

Charley shook his head as he hung up his cell phone for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Still no answer, want me to keep trying or do you want me to just admit we're fucked and it's a goddamn zombie apocalypse out there?" He threw his hand out to point towards the creature that was slamming itself against their window. Meanwhile, Claudia was searching in all of the secret drawers behind the bad, looking for extra ammo for the tiny .38 pistol that she kept just in case of emergencies. She would count this as one helluva emergency and wished that she had the forethought to trick out her bar with an arsenal of weapons. Too bad she never foresaw a zombie invasion in her plans to equip herself, instead, coming up with only a few extra boxed of ammo and a baseball bat. Charley, on the other hand, looked like a comical ninja since he had taken every sharp or serrated knife out of the kitchen area and had them stuffed in his belt and belt loops. She arched her eyebrow at him curiously, about to make a smart ass remark about his choice of weaponry when suddenly the banging on the door stopped momentarily.

Before Claudia could turn her head she heard a voice shouting, "Let us in please..I've got a woman and child out here..and well I move faster when alone." Grabbing her pistol in her hand, she checked outside in both directions before unlatching the front door and ushering everyone inside, immediately closing and locking the door after they had all stepped in. Claudia slipped her own pistol into her jeans at the small of her back and looked over the three newcomers. Family? she thought to herself for just a moment, before realizing that a father wouldn't ditch his son and wife with strangers because he 'travelled faster alone'. That comment alone caused her to frown at the man for a mere moment before she turned her attention to the mother and child. "Are you guys okay? Do you need anything?" she asked. Working in a bar had its perks, she had food and drink galore. Her heart melted when she looked at the little kid. How in the hell do they expect to make it out of here alive? she thought sadly. The zombies didn't seem exceptionally intelligent, or fast, but still... A child was bound to do something like run away at the worst possible time.

Sage surveyed the area before him and Carmine with the HUD system in his glasses, pressing buttons along the rim every few seconds to change viewing modes. They were near the building, according to his gps, but Sage could barely see past the flames and smoke that surrounded him. Even Carmine had switched his glasses on. These were PSCTF agent exclusive HUD systems that their scientists had managed to fit into their respective glasses and wirelessly connected them to the phones they used. The systems had three interchangeable functions, night vision, infa-red, and basic view. In any of the settings, the HUD system mapped out the buildings around him and outlined lifeforms in green or red. Green for friendly, and red for hostile. It was quite convenient for cases like these.. If only he had had a set during the Tranquility incident... Sage switched back to normal view as they neared the front of what was once the medical facility. Sage looked over the destroyed building, taking note of the large hole blown out of the side, which was more than likely caused by a set explosive. He doubted an accident could cause damage like this, or release a virus so far above it.

Sage looked back at Carmine, who was already nervously fumbling through his pocket for his phone. "Um, sir," Carmine started to say, looking around cautiously as he did, "We've run into some trouble. The facility that operative Sage was supposed to retrieve the samples from has been... Well, it's been destroyed... and at least one of the viruses has been released into the city...." There was a short pause before Carmine started to speak into the phone again. "Yes sir, we shall search for survivors and attempt to retrieve the samples from the other facilities." Sage took the phone from Carmine when he offered it to him and listened to the President confirm the new orders. "Yes sir, but may I request that the national guard block off the city entirely and have all of the survivors checked before they are transported out of the city. I don't think the other virus has been released, so heavy armaments are not needed, but arm the troops with submachine guns and HUD visors. Also, make sure they're on the look out for anyone suspicious among the survivors... I don't think this was an accident. Also, do not sterilize the city until two weeks have passed." Before the President could respond, Sage hung up the phone and tossed it back to Carmine, who pocketed it without a word.

Sage sighed as he leaned over the body of a security officer and picked up his gun, an old M16, and pulled the magazine out of it. He then rummaged through the man's belt, pulling the standard M9 from its holster and its spare clips from the pouches beside it. He holstered his own gun and pulled back the slide of the M9 as he walked away from the building, Carmine following close behind him. "We'll check all the shops on the way..." Sage said slowly as he looked back at Carmine, "We'll also check the bars. I have a feeling that people will turn to anywhere with alchohol right now." Sage turned his attention forward as a red arrow appeared on the edge of his glasses. Ten figures were outlined in red, and cross hairs were set at their heads. Sage executed each of them with deadly accuracy, placing a bullet in each of their brains. More groaning could be heard heading towards the two as Sage reloaded the scavenged handgun. Carmine reached into his bag and pulled a cylindrical object from it. He hefted the bag back over his shoulder and broke into a jog to catch up to Sage, who was firing round after round from the M9 into the undead that made the mistake of coming out of the buildings.

Sage's sunglasses had a full map of the area now, as maps were uploaded into his cell straight from DC. Right now only apartment buildings and small businesses surrounded them, all of which were destroyed, or in the process of being destroyed by the flames. As they turned the street, a flag lit up at the top of the glasses spelling out "The Smuggler's Inn" in blue neon lettering, with an arrow pointing ahead just under the flag. "Stop number one?" Carmine suggested behind him with an optimistic tone. Sage just nodded as he tossed the empty M9 to the side. They were fortunate they had not reached one of the more densely populated areas yet. This city had a population of several million, and by Sage's guess, half the population or more had been turned by now.

The small radio resting atop the work desk in Svena's shop was playing a steady soft rock tune that had her humming along while she lay on her back staring up at the underbelly of an old German manufactured Mercedes. The woman who'd brought it in had complained that the car just stopped working and Svena had already spent a week seeking out the reason. Marco had already headed out early today due to his mother harassing him to get his homework done. Shifting her feet she used her leg muscles to pull herself from beneath the car and sighed heavily as her hand came down hard upon the siding. "Blasted machine, why do you torment me with your unwillingness to let me find out what's wrong with you?" she growled out. Slowly rising from the creeper to stand and stretch slightly. With a bored yawn she moved over and tossed the wrench down onto the table and flicked the power switch to the radio, intent to finish up and close the shop. The main garage doors had already been closed for the day, but the main office door was still unlocked and the open sign was still lit up.
A short walk to the large sink near the back for a quick wash as she took up the orange soap and twisted the knob to start the warm water flowing.
scrubbing down she made every attempt to rid her hands of the grim and oil that caked itself on through the day. When she was satisfied they were as clean as she was going to get them Svena turned the water off and snatched up the towel to dry her hands. Glancing at them to inspect she grumbled, "I can never get this shit completely off," she chuckled to herself. "Although I am what I am and shall forever be plagued by dirty hands" tossing the towel down on the corner of the sink Svena made her way into the office portion of her garage a stack of papers sitting there that needed filing and collections to be made for prior work on people's cars. She hated paperwork and doing it herself was even worse, a main reason she hired Marco, he enjoyed it and did it well. Before sitting down at the desk Svena turned slightly and pulled open the door to a small white fridge and gathered up a orange pop can then shut it and flopped into the chair. Setting the can down on the desk she took her index finger and popped the cap, a small fizzing sound escaped the can and she smiled. Orange pop was her addiction,sometimes she liked putting it into a glass and putting vanilla ice cream to make a dreamsicle float. Licking her tantalizing red lips Svena lifted the can and brought it to her mouth and gulped down a mouthful.
With the can now rested back on the desk she began flipping through paperwork and taking up the highest owed amount Svena took up her phone and dialed the number. It rang and went straight to voicemail. "Yes this is Ms. Masters and I'm calling Benjamin Null about an overdue amount of $355 for repairs to a silver porche. Please contact me back at 330-243-6678" setting the phone back on the receiver she put the paper back to the back of the others and continued down the list until she reached the last paper, everyone's phones had gone to voicemail. Letting the ideal only capture her thoughts for a brief moment Svena rose and stretched again, then decided it was best to lock up. Taking up the keys to the main door she'd hidden in a drawer Svena quickly shut off all the lights and locked the door securely behind her. She didn't live far only a few blocks in an fairly decent apartment with her rock head roomy Kaiyln. Yawning again stifled it and began to walk home, in the distance she heard a few sirens going off and car alarms, but paying it little mind due to slight lack of sleep Svena continued to walk, her eyes cast ahead and intent on reaching her apartment. There was a slice of cheesecake calling her name with fresh strawberries laid upon the top. A grin spread over her face as she walked.

The general chaos and unpleasant situation was spreading as far as Jericho was concerned. He had managed to avoid firing his weapon yet, conserving ammo until it was necessary to expend it. He couldn't head for his apartment, there were too many creatures between him and there to arrive without having alerted nearby zombies of the threat. So far things had remained relativily simple for the man, though his plan to get to his apartment, grab whatever he could get some use out of, and get out was not viable anymore. He paused, giving a few moments time to think. Time spent thinking was never a bad idea, would help keep him from doing something that could of been avoided if he had only used his brain. Hospital, probably looted and damaged by now. Same with the rest of the government buildings. Police station might be an option, but not one at the top of his list. There were probably plenty of people there already. He wasn't anti social, but that many people was bound to attract unwanted attention. And supplies would burn down fast. The sound of the undead getting close again made him pick up his brisk walk again. They did not move that fast, thank the Lord, but he still did not want to push his luck in letting them get close before he got moving again. He was heading east, from what the street signs informed him, so he thought of places in eastern New York that could be a good place to catch his breath and take more detailed stock.

Jericho smirked subtly when he remembered a place that would have some supplies, if it hadn't been looted yet. There was a nice hotel in the direction he was going, and it was at least a place to stop and have more then a few moments to think. Despite the fact the upper floors probably had less infected, the amount of fires around, judging by the smoke, made those floors deathtraps more then safe places. At the highest, second floor. A moan made him spin, barely staggering out of reach of the thing trying to grab him and make him dinner. He cursed softly as he raised his revolver, aiming at the things head before firing and killing it. He didn't take time to catch his breath or check the body, he began a brisker jog away from the spot. That was what he wanted to avoid, firing his Mateba Autorevolver and catching all the attention of nearby creatures that were not busy with someone, or something, else. Faster he got away from the spot he had fired, the better he assumed he would be. After about a minutes worth of jogging, he slowed to a walk, letting himself breath and catch his breath. He wasn't out of shape, but he didn't want to run more then necessary. While walking, he took a round from his pocket and reloaded. That made him acutly aware of his low ammo situation. He only carried three or so speed loaders, and about six or seven spare rounds in a pocket. If he had to make a stand it would not last long with that little ammo. It was chambered for .357 magnum, so ammo wouldn't be impossible unlike other foreign firearms.

It did not take long to reach the hotel after that, and he looked at the open doors with a sigh. That meant there either was no one home or there was trouble inside. Jericho took the fact that the building was not on fire as a blessing of sorts. That at least meant there was either someone putting out fires before they started or the larger amount of chaos had yet to arrive. Looking in the doors, the buildings private power generators were still operational, since the lights and such were on. Walking in, he found the place deserted. Which was unusual. There were no bodies, no people aiming weapons at him, not even animals. The bottom floor was just deserted. That was bad. There was luggage and other items of little importance strewn about, and that was when he noticed something. Walking over and kneeling, there was a damp spot near one of the chairs. Pressing a finger down, it came up crimson. Blood, so people had died down here. Bodies missing, that meant there was probably undead near by too. Wiping his hand on the chair's fabric, he stood and scanned again, listening and watching for trouble. He would head for the kitchen shortly, after he was sure no immediate undead would jump him. After spending a minute or so looking around and finding no creatures, he moved into the kitchen.

There he found his first zombie in the place, a lean man with blood spattering his clothing. By the look of his dress, probably either an assistant to or the head chef of the place. Grabbing a longer knife from the one counter, he plunged the blade into its skull, and pushing the creature back and watching it fall. It saved ammo and avoided attracting attention, but he hated having to get that close to the things. Looking around the kitchen once to check for any immediate trouble, he grabbed pots and set them at each of the doors. From what he observed, the dead did not do much foot raising, so any dead coming in would kick the pots and attract his attention. That done, he began checking for food that could be taken with him, prepackaged meals and such. Or atleast something he could eat without having to cook. Some vegatables which he, after checking them for anything unusual, began eating while continuing to look for items that would last longer.

It didn't take long to reach the apartment complex, she walked up the short set of steps to the main doorway and pulled out a set of keys, they jingled in her hand as she slipped the main door key into the lock and turned, shoving the door to get it opened. Stepping inside she pulled the key free and walked away as the door shut behind her. The hallways were empty as they usually were at this time so Svena was content with not having to deal with chattering it up with one of the other tenants. Reaching the elevator she hit the button and stared up at the small triangle at the top for it to whiten up signaling it's arrival to the first floor. Her attention was caught though when a loud thud sounded on the main door and through the semi transparent window she saw the outlining of a person pressed against it. Lifting a brow she watched until whomever it was moved away slowly with a creepy groan. Shaking her head Svena remarked to herself. "I really should sleep" the binging from the elevator drew her to the opening doors. Stepping inside she hit the bottom for the third floor and leaned back against the wall as the elevator doors shut and began pulling itself up to the floor selected. When it reached her floor and the doors opened Svena was met by a slightly darkened hallway, "Damn..lights acting up again" grumbling as she made the short trek to her door, number sixty nine. she pulled her keys out again and unlocked the door. Moving into the apartment her hand instantly went for the light switch. Lights on she felt something touch her leg and glancing down saw that it was Maghi her siamese cat. "Meow" Svena remarked and shut the door so the cat wouldn't get out. "I bet you're hungry, aren't you my lovely?" she cooed and set her keys on the counter and retreated to the kitchen to prepare food for herself and Maghi. When food was served and bellies were full Svena retired to the couch and sank into it, clicking on the tv she flipped through channels, ending on comedy central. In a short time she had dozed off, her body finally shutting down from lack of sleep.

She had seen them in movies and read about them in comics and fictional books or at least she thought they were fictional, that is until now. There in the main office of the hotel of which the Hotel Owner she was sent to assassinate, stood two zombies, big brutes and they were eating on something or rather someone. She held up her guns and walked cautiously into the room, the doors having been knocked down. One of the undead looked up at her and growled it's inhuman growl standing up straight which made Tamira back up a bit. This particular zombie stood seven feet tall as did the other, and her theory was soon credited as on the floor being eaten was the hotel owner. These zombies had taken her kill and she did not appreciate it.

Two shots were fired, and each bullet hit their target square in the head. Her aim was dead on and she did not waste anymore time in the hotel than she needed too, but one thing was for certain, New York was dealing with a huge ass epidemic and if it wasn't fixed, and soon, then who knew if she or any other survivor would make it out alive.

Slowly she made her way back out of the office, never putting her guns down, always on the alert. Judging by what those two zombies had on, they had to be security for the poor hotel owner but it didn't bother her in the least as to what happened to him, she had been sent to kill him in the first place but the fact that there was a Zombie Epidemic, made her skin crawl. She proceeded down the halls and stairs until she came to the door that led into the kitchen. Someone was in there, or rather something. Moving swiftly, she stepped over the arranged pots and saw the man rummaging for food.

She approached him slowly and carefully and when she was at a good distance, she pointed the guns at him and cleared her throat loudly, hoping to get his attention, "are you human?" she asked not faltering in her stance.

The woman, and child seemed to be to fearful to say much, both seemingly made mute by the entire situation. Soki just laughed softly at all of this. "well protect them well yeah..? You never know what's going to happen.." He said as he walked towards the door unlocking it and exiting without so much of another word. he felt relieved to be away from other people, by himself he didn't have to worry about another person's survival, which was funny cause all of this happened on his account.

He shook his head clearing his mind of all thoughts, as he began a slow jog towards his second objective, getting out of here alive. back where he had been staying. He hid a cell phone, one with a direct line towards his government for extraction purposes. With this in his mind, he had to figure out a way to get there, and not be slowed down by corpses or other survivors. He had only a limited window of time, roughly six hours to be exact. He came to a stop at a few corpses of what looked like swat team, he smiled at all the guns laid about, wondering when they had been attacked being they hadn't risen yet. He shrugged letting his mind wander about it, but taking one of the Shotguns and it's ammunition to boot, in his head he figured it'd be easier to have something with a kick when in an urban environment, and with that he was off his steady jog, seeing as he was running towards most of the empty areas, he figured the zombies had moved on to a more populated area, though he did find dozens of leftovers that he ended quite quickly with his sword. He wondered if it really would be this easy.

Jericho heard someone clear their throat, and he stopped rummaging. When she, by the sound of the voice, asked if he was human, he chuckled, standing with his hands raised to show they were empty. He didn't have to look to know she was probably armed. "I dare say I'm human and untouched by the ghouls stalking about." He had a sneaking suspicion that, if someone was injured by them they stood a real good chance of becoming the very thing that had been trying to kill them. He turned around, letting his arms fall back to their pockets to examine the person before him. Interesting get up considering the current events, well armed as well. Special security personnelle was a possiblity, but why hang around here then? Any potential boss was probably dead, considering the state this hotel was in, unguarded and seemingly abandoned. So he felt it necessary to rule out that possibility. She was probably the one that had been firing earlier, an expert on firearms could of told him whether she had fired those guns or not by looking at them but he suspected she was. Two shots, two pistols, though the make was not something he could necessarily identify. Nor did he overly care, they killed the ghouls with headshots just as well as anything else, or so he suspected, so he wouldn't say anything in that regard.

The women didn't have a New York accent, something he could subtly pick up having lived here his whole life. Someone not native to the city, and that was also worth remembering. Someone from outside the city could of arrived years ago or recently, it all depended on their actions and knowledge of the surroundings. Though he was tempted to rule out a new arrival, as he suspected no one would want to enter a hellhole that the Big Apple had become without good reason, but that was a cavet. If there was good reason, then anyone would do anything. So he slowly reached into his pocket and took out a ciggerette that he had taken out of the pocket of some dead man, and gave her a questioning look before asking a question of her. "Got a lighter or matches on you? Forgot to pick some up earlier." It wasn't necessarily the most appropriate question, but it was better then drilling her with hard nosed questions such as who are you and why are you dressed like that. He was leaning against the cabinet that he had been searching just recently, and he had a good view of the enterances. He didn't bother drawing his autorevolver yet, no need to. She didn't need to know how well armed, or lack there of, he was. Let her wonder about that fact.

Sage and Carmine arrived at the bar just in time to watch someone leave and run off into the smokey distance. "Carmine, I want you to check for survivors here. I'm going to go on ahead. If you need me, you know how to contact me." Carmine nodded nervously as Sage ran off after the man he had seen earlier. There were many, many dead bodies on the ground that he was forced to step over, all of which had some part of them ripped off by pairs of teeth. It wasn't long before he came across several bodies of a SWAT team laying a few yards away from their armored van, which was crashed into the side of a building. All of the bodies had been bitten on every exposed area by the zombies that lay dead around them. It was a sad fate, really. If you were bitten, you would die after a given time. The more you were bitten, the faster you died. It didn't help that some of these poor saps had their major arteries ripped out. Sage pulled out his long combat knife as the bodies started to twitch and with a few well placed cuts, he beheaded each and every one of them. When this job was done, he stepped over them and the other bodies until he reached their van. With his knife, he pried open the back doors. Inside their was a decent sized stock of riot weapons and various pieces of SWAT armor that might have been useful if they had protected a little more. Sage slipped his knife into its sheathe that lay on a shoulder strap just behind the suit jacket he wore and ripped a Riot Shotgun from its place on the wall. He then scavenged through the live ammo compartments until he found enough for the shotgun and a various boxes of ammo that he just packed into his bag. "Thank you very much, my friends." He said with a salute to the dead SWAT team as he exited the van and made his way down the road. It wouldn't be long before he was in one of the more densely populated areas...
Carmine knocked on the bar door a few times while he slipped the grenade he had been holding back into his bag and pulled out his revolver. "Is anyone alive in there?" He called out, hoping to get a response from a human, and not just more moans and groans from a new pack of zombies. He looked around nervously while he waited for someone to respond, not wanting to be caught of guard here. Why did he have to be picked for a mission like this? Why did he have to be chosen for a job with so much risk to it? Here he was, one of the newest agents, standing in front of a bar door in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. He was starting to question his boss's judgment now...

Svena was resting comfortably when suddenly she jerked away, the motion causing Maghi to jump off her lap. Rubbing her eyes Svena sat up and moaned unhappily. The oversleeping she wanted to do was now not going to happen. Yawning some she heard a light tapping sound at her door, curiosity getting the best of her Svena rose from the couch, took up the remote and turned off the television. Dropping it on the couch she moved to the door slowly and peered out of the small door hole. All she saw was the top of someone's head. Pulling back asked. "Who is it?" but she didn't get a response. Unlocking the door Svena opened it a little and peaked out. "May I help you?" the question was direct, but still the person did not speak. Shutting the door she locked it again. "Damned alcoholics" she grumbled and went to the fridge, grabbing the pitcher of tea she poured a glass and put it away. Flipping on the television again now that she was awake Svena found the news channel and watched it. When the reporter began speaking of New York being cut off from the rest of the world Svena's attention was caught. She listened and nearly dropped her glass of tea when the reporter said zombies. Shaking her head she clicked the tv off and stared at the blank screen. "No way" Her head turned slightly and she stared at her door with shock. Rising quickly she moved to one of the side tables and slid the drawer open, reaching in she pulled out her fourty five and grabbed the box of ammunition. "Just fucking great. I have people who owe me money a shop needing machines and such and we get zombies. Bad for business" she grumbled as she loaded the gun. "This will have to do until i can get to the shop." She snatched up her coat, slipped it on and returned to the door, unlocking it she threw it up and found the person was still standing there. She held her gun up and waited, suddenly the head shot up and the greyish skin more apparent to her. Svena didn't hesitate, instead she pulled the trigger and sent a bullet to the middle of the head. The zombie jolted and fell back. Stepping past Svena glanced around to make sure there was no one else in the hallway and put one more bullet into the head of the zombie before making her way outside. The streets were still empty, the streets lights on giving the city and eery feel. Shivering some Svena began walking down the sidewalk towards her shop her gun firmly in her hand and box of bullets in her pocket.

Her eyes never left his form as he stood there, hands raised for a short while before placing them back at his sides, obviously he was trying to talk his way out of the situation he was in, being that she had him in her sights and one wrong move could possibly cost him his life. Still he was human and there was really no real reason to kill him, oh no, he was far more valuable to her alive then dead.

Smirking as she listened to him talk, she holstered her guns and crossed her arms across her cleavage which showed quite exuberantly. She had no shame in her game, that much was true and as she stared at this man, she couldn't help but wonder about Ricardo. She knew the man liked her, possibly more than that, yet he often hid his emotions from her as if revealing them to her would bring the world to an end.

"Got a lighter or matches on you? Forgot to pick some up earlier."

His words brought her back from the state of deep thought that she had been in. She reached into her pocket, however small they might have been, and produced a box of matches of which she threw in his direction, it would be up to him to catch them.

"So do you know what has happened here? I came here on vacation to find this chaos and disorder," She lied, but she knew he probably wouldn't buy her story of vacationing to New York, still she had to use some type of cover up story to keep him from knowing about the world of assassins, the less he knew, the longer he would live.

Jericho smoothly caught the matches thrown at him, having been half expecting such a motion. Nodding his thanks, he lit a match and promptly lit his ciggarette, inhaling the warm smoke. He let it sit in his lungs for a second or so before exhaling the smoke, tossing the pack back to her. He didn't need and try to keep them when it wasn't necessary. Sure they would kill him, but they also had a hell of a way of calming his nerves. And the last thing he needed right now was to be twitchy. He kept his eyes watching hers, not letting them drift. In that way, as odd as it sounded, women were far more dangerous then men. He kept his hands in his pockets for now, watching the women as he was also observed. Of course, he began chuckling when she claimed she was here on vacation. Like hell she was. He doubted a cop would fall for that, and that was saying something. Despite being the fine men in blue, they really did have moments of being an utterly clueless person. Some of them were fine upstanding representations of a proper officer, but they were few and far in between. "No one would buy the tourist bit for a second. At least no one with two braincells to rub together. So you might be alright in general. You lack the New York accent, which helps that story. What shoots it down is your choice in clothing, as revealing as it is, and your generally being well armed. I don't think a tourist would be able to find a pair of pistols and blades this quickly."

Examining the second part of her question, he saw no harm in giving what he knew. Which was next to nothing anyways. He began, that honest tone some PI's develop. The one that says you can trust this guy not to do something stupid, if nothing else. "Well, you know almost as much as I do. Finished a job, and was walking home when a group of ghouls mobbed some guy. I got clear of that mess, noted that hotels usually have private generators and supplies, and here I am." While he was curious as to who he was talking to, he would let her introduce herself at her own pace. Forcing things rarely did any good, more often caused setbacks. So he took another drag on the ciggarette, letting the tip glow before letting the smoke drop, crushing it with his shoe. He was good for sometime, he wasn't as badly addicted as the several pack a day people, but he did not enjoy having less then a smoke or two a day. He also found it helped more then it would hurt him later on, so he was prepared to deal with that. He kept that easy tone as he added an addendum, not aiming to cause trouble yet. "You know my story, how about you? You arrived as a, quote unquote, tourist, and what then? And why this hotel out of any closer ones that can easily be considered better?" He could almost smell something was more then met the eye there, and was resisting the urge to make any massive stabs at that. He needed to remain subtle and calm if he was to get anything other then a gunshot wound. It was also testing her story creation ability, in Jericho's term, bullshitting.