Spireheart Network: Redux » Places

         

"They found me, get ready for some fun, boys and girls."

An uncharacteristically fiendish grin slid it's way across Zane Hendricks's face. An unwitting co-worker tilted his head in confusion. "Umm... Mr. Hendricks..." The dim-witted moron stuttered, completely unaware as to his own immediate danger. Zane stood, hands slamming down on the table; a spider's web of cracks danced to life, skittering across the tabletop. "Hear that? No more playing nice. Bossman's given the all clear. Gimme two seconds, I'll have every guard in this place focused on something much more... pressing." Zane spoke, though apparently to no one. When the increasingly dull office worker stepped close to "Zane", shortening his life span astronomically, Vasska's animal instincts took over. Zane Hendricks roared, a mighty bellow shaking the lounge in which he stood. His maw seemed to stretch unnaturally, as if some sort of beast lay hidden underneath the office worker's skin. As the foolish man, who was now far too close for Vasska's comfort, tried to run, the smell of sweat and fear clinging to him like a thick coat, Vasska swatted at him. The back of "Zane's" hand caught him under the chin and sent him rocketing through the air and out the nearest third story window. Several other office workers tried to detain the seemingly crazy and berserking "Zane", but they met similar fates. One hung from the ceiling tiles, his shoulders and down were all that was visible. He appeared quite stuck. Another was sent through several cubicles. He didn't get up. Another still was shoved into a garbage can and mercilessly kicked down a long hallway that ended in several flights of stairs. Soon, every guard on the premises was headed to "Zane's" location. Vasska made sure that he was even more of a menace than Felix could ever be. There was no way that Felix was getting left behind, not if Vasska had something to say about it.

Vasska took this lovely opportunity to smash as many important looking computers and devices as he could, making his way down to the main lobby where he had more exits and his opponents had less room to contain him. While he rampaged, Vasska didn't focus too much on making his attacks stronger or faster, instead, he was growing tired of the horrendous itching that the HIDE collar was causing. So, doing the only thing he knew how, Vasska, "filled in" the mold created by the HIDE's display, allowing his face to naturally form an accurate likeness of Zane Hendricks. Only close relatives, extremely close, or attentive co-workers, and spouses would be capable of noticing the minute details Vasska missed. Though he was a beast, in every sense of the word, Vasska was no idiot. He knew the hide could die at any moment, and that keeping it in one piece was a priority, so as he ran to the lobby, causing as much mayhem as he could, Vasska removed the HIDE and hid it in one of his jacket pockets. Finally, that taken care of, Vasska took the final turn and found himself down in the lobby where he'd walked in that morning. He had no knowledge or memory of the place's layout and how it was organized, structurally or otherwise, Vasska was just following his nose. When he reached the main lobby, Vasska roared once again, stretching his vocal chords, expanding his lungs, and allowing a massively loud bellow to echo throughout the building. People didn't know what was happening, but their instincts told them all they needed to know. There was something strange about Zane Hendricks. It was a primal feeling, something they couldn't explain. All they could recognize was that he was dangerous. The prey viewed their predator with eyes full of fear. People froze in their tracks simply hoping, praying, that "Zane" would let them be. The fear coated their bodies like sweat, dripping to the floor and filling the room with its stench. I was an instinctive fear.

Soon, black shirted, muscle bound men stormed the room. They weren't professional hitmen, they weren't even armed. They were most likely bouncers. Rent-a-cops armed only with their fists and with the intimidation such measly weapons provided. Vasska smirked. It was like Signet was just sending sacrificial lambs to him now. "Think you boys can wear me out?" Vasska taunted, it was oddly sickening coming out of "Zane's" mouth. "You won't even be enough to make me sweat." The predator challenged, stepping forward and causing the herd of worthless men to flinch backward instinctively. Vasska cracked his knuckles. "Who's first?" He asked, a wicked grin on his face. What was about to happen next could only be described as the single biggest kerfuffle in military/police policy in dealing with powerful rogue elementals.

         

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“Mister Whitehaven?” Atlas’s brow rose in speculation. While had addressed her formally- his was more to mock the sheer sterility of their mannerisms. When Gale stated it- well- he felt an odd notion that passion was bled right out from that statement. “I don’t even get a wink afterwards, or asked how my day was. For shame. I think I’m losing my touch.” Those digits crisped down his waistcoat and glided over the threaded buttons- it was a motion that he participated when he was lost in a deluge of pensiveness. Either way he moved to the table to take a seat, and gave Gabriel a coy look as the other made a somewhat callow comment about his dress. “I take fabulous care of my clothing- and I’m sure your opinion of ‘being worn by me’ would change given a bit of persuasion.” Atlas left at that- he didn’t want to traipse all over proper etiquette in the Signet Corporation unless he was assured he couldn’t get his hand slapped for it.

As Gale Cross began that briefing Atlas made himself comfortable and pulled up his own personal display. There were countless little tidbits about the Ark and its’ importance, but it was painfully obvious was it was supposed to simply be used for: the preservation of what little life the planet had left. So he flipped away from the specs about that massive genetic storage facility and onto reading about Dr. Fleche and the Dwyers. In a world where the existence of natural flora and fauna were an extreme rarity eco-terrorists like this had a tendency to pop up left and right like daisies (Atlas tried not to chuckle at that slight pun there). Rarely ever though did they make a move like this, and successfully as well.

“Idiots,” Atlas mumbled underneath his breath as Gale gave their intention with the genes in the Ark. They would ruin years of saving the world by attempting to ‘save the world’. He wondered if this ‘Gaia’ even knew what they were striving towards, or if they blindly followed impulses and thoughts as such. Atlas’s finger flipped through what meager reports they had on Gaia before returning his attention back to the center of the table and to his other two comrades.
All the dark haired fellow could offer to Gabriel’s banal rambling about rabbits was a concerned look on the other’s mental stability. He turned his attention back down to his reports in hopes of not showing the non-descript boredom that passed by his eye. “That is a point, but I don’t think we’ll see too many forces considering they would lose their- well already lost- element of surprise by moving a larger group in. Because these warehouses are for Signet use only- someone moving in with a sizable force would be discovered.” Atlas then paused. “That being said- we can figure that they’ll be armed- especially if they plan to keep Dr. Fleche doing what they wish. So do we suspect that these Dwyers are humans or elementals? Because that might change the game.”

         

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New York City, 6 am

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The sound of busy downtown traffic woke Ignatius up early, as it so often did. He knew it would be this noisy when he moved in, but he stubbornly insisted on being at a walking distance from the Signet HQ, in case of an emergency. He didn't really mind being woken up early, as it gave him some more time to get ready. He took a shower, had breakfast, all the usual routine. It had been long since the last good raid, and he was starting to wonder wether that was a good thing or not. He put on his suit and grabbed his case. The clock showed he was still very early. He headed over to the HQ first, to check on the guards that had been on duty that night.

The guards on the entrance hall were chatting on about some tornado in the news. Their shift was almost over, and they were all very tired.
-"What do you all think you're doing? Your shift isn't over yet." He said as he walked in. The guards, caught by surprise, quickly stood up and remained silent. They didn't usually see Serafino this early in the morning, and they weren't expecting him to show up without notice. Normally he'd contact HQ before meeting with someone.
"Today's shift will be off your paycheck. You're here to keep watch of the building, not to gossip like a bunch of idiots."

After supervising as the guards for the morning shift came in and took their places, he quickly walked back out of the building, leaving the guards confused and shocked. Those who had been working with him for some time had gotten used to his character, but the new guys were still very much afraid of him. And that was the effect he was going for, after all.

Back in the street, he checked his watch: 7:15 am. He was going to be late if he didn't hurry. Getting in his shuttle, he headed over to the Field Office. Glaring down at the city below him, the people and cars flooded the streets like an army of ants. "Few sights could be so inspiring and deppresing at the same time." -He mumbled. After a couple minutes on the shuttle, he got to the office. The building was quite tall, but it paled in comparison to the HQ he was used to. He had been working at the Field Office for almost a year now, and he still didn't like it.

The elevator was somewhat crowded, but then again, the whole damn city was. Once it got to the thirty-third floor, he stepped out and looked around the office. Surprisingly, only a handful of people had arrived, including Gale, as usual, and oddly enough, Gabriel.

"Good morning everyone. What news do we have?" he said as we walked over to his desk.

         

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The subways, 7:30 AM

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Felix turned to see their resident hot-head, Vasska Kresh. "Vasska. Glad you're up and around. No worries, we'll find something for you to do. Today's mission is stealth-based, but I'm sure we can fit you in. Come to the meeting room once you take care of the crates." Felix offers a smile as he began walking towards the command room, an old storeroom that had been gutted and filled with a holo-table and screens to provide debriefings. Kiana came up beside him, delivering bad news on the arms dealer. "Really now? That's a shame. The make-shift guns we're getting from the wastes keep breaking. That guy had quality armaments. We'll discuss a solution at the meeting." Felix almost laughed at Kiana's butchering of the idiom, but he was completely serious now. It was an important mission, today's assignment, and if they screwed up, Signet could very well be at their door step tomorrow.

Felix turned a corner, to a door made of smooth steel. It had no visible latch or knob, to deter people from entering and to act as a safe room. Beside it was a console which housed three scanners; one for retinal ID, the next for ID cards, and the last for voice verification. Felix wanted no one getting in without permission, as a large amount of sensitive data was housed in this room. Stepping up, Felix flashed his eyeball to the scanner, slid his card in, and sternly said, "Felix Grelen, Bravo, one, nine, Foxtrot, Zulu, four, seven." The scanner flashed green, and the door slid open with a slight hiss.

Inside, there was a staircase, which illuminated to reveal a glowing room at the bottom. Felix swiftly descended the stairs, and entered the room below. The room was a small rotunda. A circle of chairs and tables with data pads surrounded a silver holographic projection table. On the sides of the room were banks of terminals and screens lining the cracked cement walls. There was a chill from being so far underground, but Felix didn't mind. He stepped over to a coffee machine, which was using the last bit of vanilla coffee grounds they had. He poured a cup for each member that would be present, which was to be six today, excluding himself. The extra two were scientists which would explain today's gadgetry. After his coffee duty, Felix stepped over to the intercom terminal, and activated it. "Attention. Would Celero de Tempestas, Dr. Williamson and Dr. Theodore, and Porter Buchanan please all report to the comm room? Thank you." Felix hung up, and took his seat, waiting for everyone else to file in.