Sarah Briggs's Story

"28...29...30" Grunting with effort, Sarah replaced her bench press bar on the stand and sat up, stretching her arms wide. Glancing back with a small frown, she made a mental note to pick up another bar soon, as this one was wearing out from the excessive strain she put on it daily. Her attention quickly got diverted as her cell phone rang in the other room. She quickly dashed through the doorway into her bedroom and scrambled for the phone, though she had to be careful not to crush it in her hands like the last one.

"Alabaster...Mhm...On my way, Boss." She flipped it shut and tossed it onto the bed, eliciting an angry protest from its current occupant. Sarah rolled her eyes but refused to comment as she changed into her work clothes. She was about to head out the door, but a final pat down revealed that she was missing something vital.

"Hey, where's my pistol? Did you move it?" Turning to glare at her roommate, the other woman simply shrugged and gestured blandly at nothing with the handgun. Growling in annoyance, Sarah snatched the gun from her hand and secured it in her shoulder holster.

"Don't fuck with me when I'm on call," snapped the thug as she wrapped her braid around her neck. "It's not healthy." Her roommate made a noise of mock fear before rolling over and going back to sleep. Alabaster stepped up her pace, locking the door behind her and stomping down the stairs, making sure her cufflinks were immaculate and her tie properly placed. She unlocked the door to her beat up old junker and hopped inside.

Pulling out of the parking lot, Sarah hurried but was sure to follow all traffic laws. After all, it wouldn't do to draw attention to herself and gain a tail. Less than twenty minutes later, however, her growling beater of a car pulled around the back of the old auto factory. She didn't bother to park it properly, as the only people who came out this way were Rip's employees.

Alabaster took long strides through the back of the factory floor, not even stopping to threaten any goons that were loafing about, as was her usual custom. They could tell something was up, and they wanted no part of it. It wasn't often that Rip himself called her to duty. Maybe someone needed a good skullbusting, or he had a deal she needed to supervise. Maybe he was just bored. Until she got to his office, Sarah had no way of knowing. They didn't discuss specifics over the unsecured phone.

Ascending the staircase, Sarah checked the walls and stairwell for any evidence of foul play, such as bullet holes or scattered bullet shells. Of course the fact that there were goons lounging around downstairs should have put her at ease, but in her book the situation wasn't safe until she made it so. Slipping quietly into Rip's office, Alabaster quickly scanned the room, taking in as much as she could. Rip himself didn't look to be under duress, as he leaned back in his chair giving orders over the phone to someone and watching his computer screen.

She moved over to her usual post in a shaded pocket of the room, not far back enough to see his computers, but far enough that she could move to guard him in a moment's notice. She didn't want to be accused of prying after all. Sarah waited patiently for Rip to acknowledge her or give her a task. If he chose not to, and simply wanted her there, then that was fine too. After all, he was her charge, not the other way around.

Rip bounced his stress ball forcefully, growing impatient with the lackey he was conversing with over the phone.

"What do you mean, the Tigers already have a new boss?" He spat. "I just killed their old one the other day!"

"T-That's what the rumors say, boss. I'm scouting out their base as we speak. They don't appear to have panicked like the other gangs."

Rip grumbled, leaned his chair backed and threw the ball at the wall. His men were doing a good job of carving up the underworld so far, but the Tigers - perhaps the strongest gang in Atlanta - weren't budging. This would have to change sooner or later.

"Well that's good," He sneered, catching the ricochet. "Because you just earned the honors of leading the raid. But at this speed, that might be a ways off."

Before his subordinate could get a word in, Rip hung up. If there was one gang he just wanted gone, it was the Tigers. Still, things were progressing nicely, so his mood quickly swung back to jollity.

"Sarah, I didn't even notice you coming in!" He remarked, throwing the ball near her face. "Need anything in particular or are you going to just stand there fiercely?"

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"Another high-ranking mob boss dead already?" Alice wondered, adding extra sugar to her coffee. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Atlanta was quickly turning into a criminal war zone. To Alice, the factions and their motives were irrelevant. The Vanguards and the Tigers and the Golems were all equally evil, especially when civilians were inevitably going to be caught in the crossfire.

Oddly enough, the first named suspect that came from Jones was Judge. Judge was a vigilante who was very liberal when it came to lethal force and was already on the APD's wanted list, so Alice couldn't blame for Jones for thinking that way, but she personally couldn't see it. However, it didn't fit any known gang's style either, not even some of the older mafia-esque syndicates. Before she could ponder it more, Bill came in.

"Oh yeah, that. Look, I'm sorry, but I just don't think it'd work out. Besides, I've got enough on my plate as is."

Keeping her response brief, she addressed the next topic with the same speed.

"Oh, and if you really insist, fine, you can have a codename. But if you ask for a projectile-based costume, you're on traffic duty."

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Hanging bodies? Jessica hadn't heard of this yet. In any case Maurice confirmed her suspicions that the Vanguards were the main force behind the recent violence. It didn't surprise her to hear that Judge was a prime suspect, though she herself had quickly put him on the bottom of the list.

If she was to take a guess, the Vanguards were a large group of disparaged criminals who banded together for a form their own criminal syndicate. Judging by their unorthodox methods, they weren't after just goods and money; they wanted to run crime in their own way. All of this did not bode well for the city as a whole.

"I see." Jessica replied, considering the idea of texting Gary. "Do you happen to know who the Vanguard's leader is? Or do you at least have any leads I can follow?"

Casually, Sarah stooped over and retrieved the ball, examining it with mild interest.

"You sounded a bit upset on the phone. Since you're all safe and secure here, is there another task you think I'm better utilizing my time with?" remarked the bodyguard, looking up to her charge. He looked to be in good spirits again, which was a good sign. She liked him better when he wasn't slinging lightning around, anyways.

"Yes, actually." Rip responded, spinning his chair round and round with his legs. "Downtown I have a scout mapping the Tigers' FOB. I want you assist him. And if he doesn't do his damned job, relieve him of his duties, mmk?" Oh boy. Looks like this was gonna be one of those gumshoe days. She replaced the ball onto his desk gently as she turned to leave.

"Of course, Boss. I'll have it done A.S.A.P." Rip dismissed her, giving her the location of the scout, as well as his phone number. Sarah jogged out to her car, knocking a couple minions out of her way and swearing at them for loafing. Sarah searched her suit for her cell phone, but lamented as she realized it was back at her apartment. She'd have to find a payphone once she was closer.

As she neared the address, Sarah pulled over and bought a couple hours on a parking meter. Hopefully some dick ass cop wouldn't tow it like last time, even though the meter still had four minutes left. Taking the handset off the receiver, she inserted a couple quarters and dialed the number on the card. After three rings, a voice answered with a whisper.

"Hello?" Sarah groaned out loud. Not this clown.

"Allan, dammit, what the hell are you doing? Why aren't any of our actual scouts doing this work?" A brief pause over the line told her that he was deliberating his answer carefully. Good. Maybe if he was careful enough Sarah wouldn't feed him his own arms to the elbows.

"But Alabaster...I-I am an actual scout. I was assigned to this team." Another groan from Sarah.

"Fine, meet me at the corner of 5th and Market. I've also been assigned to this team. Don't make me wait on you." She slammed the phone into the receiver, snapping the handset in half and crushing the keypad into the payphone. She retrieved a change of clothes from the trunk of her car and stopped into a nearby gas station to change. Quickly folding her suit up neatly, she placed it in her trunk and took off at a light jog towards her designated meeting point.

Luckily for him, Allan was already there, standing around and fidgeting nervously. She stopped in front of him, breathing slightly harder than usual.

"Report," Sarah commanded. Allan jumped in surprise and fear, but after a bit of stammering, managed to tell her everything he knew so far.

It was not only Shade who was taking advantage of this wet, dreary night. Other, more vicious characters, who were clad in black and red armor, were arming themselves across the street from a beaten down and (usually) vacant warehouse. These were the Vanguards, a group of bloodthirsty crooks who had coalesced from all around the region. Regrettably, these masked goons were only a slight step above some of the more dangerous hoodlums in the area.

Alabaster and her team had scoped out the Tigers' main base and its surrounding area, formulating an attack plan during daylight hours. Now that they had the veil of darkness on their side, the Vanguards were ready for the assault. Crippling Atlanta's most fearsome gang would not only please Rip, it would herald a great shift in criminal power. Pulling down his respirator mask, Allan took a deep breath and turned to Alabaster.

"I think we're ready to go ma'am." He reported, one of his comrades cocking his shotgun loudly for emphasis.

Here goes... Taking a deep breath, Alabaster kicked the door in and gestured sharply for her squad to enter. They rushed the door, single file, weapons out. Almost immediately gunfire broke out as the squad encountered some Tiger's caught unawares and mowed them down. Their mates scrambled to get their weapons and counter the sudden intrusion.

Counter fire came in thick and fast, though the Vanguards had managed to get some cover set up and were hunkering down to avoid the hot lead pelting the warehouse around them. Sarah needed to rally her men if they wanted to have any hope of killing these Tigers. She charged through the doorway, ducking to scoop up a pair of assault rifles, and sprayed the Tigers downrange.

She caught a couple with glancing blows, but as expected when firing on the run, her accuracy was abysmal. Taking cover behind a stack of shelves, Sarah dumped the empty rifles and hollered at her squad to advance. Just sitting where they were would give the Tigers the ability to form an effective counter attack.

Drawing her sidearm, Alabaster fired a couple rounds blindly over her head, then sprinted across the aisle, jumping to shoulder check a shelf and knock it over, causing a chain reaction and toppling the entire row. Several Tigers scrambled out of the way, though an unlucky few were crushed by falling debris. Unfortunately this left her out in the open. She felt herself get lit up with enemy fire, impacts pinging off her body and staggering her. A lucky round glanced off her forehead, the force of which knocked Alabaster on her ass.

Having had their courage bolstered by their leader's noble sacrifice, Alabaster's squad pushed forward and forced the Tigers back. When Sarah regained her senses, the fighting had already moved on, the sound of gunfire coming from all around her. Slowly, the number of shots faded, until at last there was silence. She gritted her teeth and gained her feet, hoping that it was the Tigers dead and not her Vanguards. She really didn't want to explain to Rip that her squad got killed by a bunch of shitty thugs.