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Unrest

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Thu Mar 05, 2015 4:04 pm

Ridahne did not live such a lifestyle that she was up on the latest trends in fetishes, fantasies, or other related topics. She lived in the boondocks, picked fights, fished for seahorses to sell to the upper class, and became a soldier. She had no time for such frivolous things, nor was that talked about much in Azurei. On her interplanetary excursions, she'd learned quite a lot, and learned very fast that 'adult stores' were not places full of business magazines, weapons, or fine wines. She went into one once and immediately attracted a lot of attention from the clerk, an overweight, greasy man with thinning hair. Ridahne turned around and left pretty fast. Loosely, through pop culture and conversations, she learned of a thing called S and M, though she hardly believed any such thing actually existed.

Ridahne was wrong.

This guy was disgusting. He enjoyed it too much, and in a way, his verbalizations of his own pleasure were more disturbing than Suvian's murderous laughter. This made Ridahne enraged and triggered some part of her that had been dormant for some time. She remembered the heat of the battlefield, the sound of her heart pounding in her ears as she put her blade through someone's chest in the night. The sticky drip of blood on her face that did not belong to her. Suddenly Ridahne wanted to take off his head and post it outside like a warning to all who came near. She wanted to kill him. Ridahne hadn't felt that sensation--truly and honestly--since she was enlisted as an Eija. She'd threatened it with Mark, but she did not mean it. She wanted to, now. It took everything in her to not let loose a grim war cry and swing her blade across his neck. End it. If he wasn't going to talk now, and they planned to give her back in the end, he was becoming quickly useless.

No. She had purposely left that part of her behind some time ago. She would not kill him...yet. But she still wanted him to suffer. Ridahne knew that he was enjoying her too much. Two can play at this game. As if she'd been given permission, Ridahne pressed harder and made a slicing motion with her blade, her hand firm. The steel moved through the soft flesh of his lip like butter, the well-maintained blade cutting him effortlessly. She stepped back, inspecting her work. The lip was the one place that was never tattooed, and thus was fair game for maiming according to her cultural laws. The rest of the face was not.

Ridahne wiped her blade on his shirt unceremoniously and sheathed it behind her back. She stood over him, her slim height towering over him, and said a few Azurian words in a low voice. Though it wasn't clear what precisely she was saying, it was evident by the robotic drone in her voice that it was some ritual.

In an interesting turn of events, Ridahne flicked on the lights, showing a hardened face and fiery amber eyes alive with violence. "We could have been allies, you and I," she said, shaking her head. "We want many of the same things. But frankly, I don't like your tone. Or your face. Looks better now, I think...you'll warm up to it eventually. It'll be harder for you to charm sluts, but you'll learn to get used to that. At least you still have your personality?" Ridahne laughed, genuinely amused by this irony. "Hope you don't bleed too quickly, there will be no one to come for you for a very long time. You should know that you didn't do yourself any favors. I asked nicely for what I wanted, and you decided not to give it to me. I won't ask again. You have made yourself worthless to me by your choices, and I will leave you here to suffer. You better hope someone figures out how to find you, or you'll dehydrate and die here alone and mutilated, like you deserve."

Ridahne knew enough to get by in their search for Rylie--a testing facility would narrow things down quite a bit--and she didn't want to waste any more time, or she would be playing right into his hand. "Oh...before I go, let's keep my true loyalties and purpose here a secret between you and I, mm? That is...if you do make it out of here alive. Have a nice day." She flipped him off with a curt little smile, turned without shutting off the heater, and exited the room. Ridahne did her best to lock the door, though the lock wasn't great and could be easily picked by the right hands. She walked coolly away and waited until she was very far from both earshot and visibility before she turned her com back on.

"Well then. That was interesting. Mark, Gregory, I'm through here, as far as I'm concerned. He didn't outright say where she was, but I know enough that we can start. Where are you two, now? We should meet somewhere and discuss our next step. I don't want to talk too much on coms...we don't know who else may be listening," she said as she walked casually down the sidewalk, rubbing the dried blood off her fingers.

Well. Glad that was over.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Mon Mar 09, 2015 8:56 pm

He was ready for more. He wanted more. More of the blade, the sting, the anger. He wanted it so badly that he could taste it like the blood that filled his mouth and dribbled down his chin.

She wiped the blade and he inhaled, anticipating the next swipe.

It never came. The lights turned on and he blinked. What was going on? Why had she turned on the lights? Where was the next strike?

She stood there and mocked him. Was this more of her playing with him? It slowly dawned on him that she intended not to finish the deed. He would go unfulfilled and left alive.

She walked away. “No. No! You can’t just leave me alive!”

His mouth hurt but the pain no longer excited him. He needed her to come back. He could not fail. Why was she not playing the game? He had thought she would, he had looked forward to someone with such skill and finesse handling him.

He struggled against the ropes. She was going to leave him. He had completely failed and he was left alive.

"No! Come back! You can't just leave like that!"

He watched her form disappear out the door.
*****
“Where?” Gregory’s voice was hard over the com.

“Easy. Ridahne let’s meet. You stay there and we will come to you.”

Twenty minutes later Mark drove up beside where Ridahne was walking. “Hop in and we will find a place we can talk.”

He drove them off to an empty parking lot.

Gregory turned and looked at Ridahne in the backseat. "What did you learn? Where is she?"

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Mon Mar 09, 2015 10:27 pm

It was Ridahne's turn to find sick pleasure in manipulation and playing games, now. The moment she saw his newly lit face, Ridahne knew her final play was a solid one, and she'd bested him. While she exited and could still hear him shouting after her, begging her to come back to him and indulge his twisted desires, the Azurei debated turning back around and giving him a theatrical and sardonic bow, just to add insult to injury. Though the middle finger was satisfying enough--Ridahne rarely had the chance to use that gesture, as it was not widely known or understood in Azurei. Her mother sort of inadvertently taught it to her, but she never used it at home because when she insulted someone, she wanted them to know about it. Here, though, it was perfectly fitting.

Ridahne was still laughing out loud to herself as she imagined him squirming fitfully against his bonds, sweating and bleeding in the otherwise quiet room. The afternoon air was cool against her sweaty back and though she thrived in the heat, after being in that stuffy room for so long, it was a welcome change. It felt especially pleasant when the occasional breeze would filter through her thick, tied back hair or would pry underneath the leather body holster that concealed her blade artfully under her loose clothing.

The voice that greeted her on the com was less than friendly, though not necessarily towards her. She would have told Gregory to ease up if Mark hadn't already. Other than telling Mark what street she was on, she said very little and was thankful for the few moments before she was picked up in which she could process the last couple of hours in silence. Interrogations were never something she took lightly and was told once by a mentor that the only way to stay sane was to both separate herself from her work, but also to debrief herself afterward in order to seek healing from the violence committed. Though he was not Suvian and did not shake her nearly as much, she was still baffled by him. Until now, she doubted people like him existed--those who enjoyed pain in...that way. The naive Heartlander in her was mortified, but the scarred warrior was too jaded to be too disturbed by it.

Ridahne heard a car coming up behind her and she did not look up from the sidewalk until it slowed down to a stop next to her. Ah, Mark. It was when she turned to open the backseat door that she saw her reflection in the glossy window and scowled. Blood was diluted with her own sweat on her face; a pink swirl mottled little spots of her Ojih. Ridahne sat down quietly; she looked physically harried but very composed all the same. Her gray shirt was dark with sweat and rebellious wisps of her black curls that escaped her ponytail clung to her damp forehead and cheeks. Something about her very presence changed, though. Instead of her usual volatile fire, liable to flare up at any moment, she was cool, stern, and unmoving like stone. Her roots as a soldier showed through then, as she moved with a measured stiffness and her back was a little straighter. Ridahne's face remained inscrutable. The interrogation awoke the dormant soldier in her and a grim violence simmered quietly in her light eyes.

Gregory was quick to press her for answers, but Ridahne did not answer at first. Undaunted by his urgency, she coldly barked in a tone that would accept no contestation, "Silence," and began to clean her hands and face in a slow, deliberate, and almost ceremonial fashion. The woman breathed in deep, and the out again. In. Out. It wasn't until she was finished and took one last deep breath that she finally answered.

"The conversation was roundabout, but I got enough clues out of him that we can narrow down the search. Take heart, Gregory, in the knowledge that your people do intend to return her to you, and their main goal was to kill time. That's partly why I left him there without getting straight answers--I didn't want to play his game anymore and I had enough information that I could change the rules. We are being played, so in order to come out on top, we have to play games, too. Whatever we do from this point onward, it is important that we understand what they are trying to do and to undermine their goals at every turn. I know Rylie is your partner in more ways than one, but we are all--or have been--soldiers, here. At at least where I come from, every soldier understands that the mission at hand is far more important than any individual. They will not kill her--she's too valuable--and that gives us the luxury of a little more time."

Ridahne looked Gregory squarely in the face, her eyes boring into his. "Remember that you are too invested in this. You are a soldier and your duty is to your mission. Play the game right, and we can achieve both goals. But in order to do that, you have to start thinking rationally."

The woman let that hang in the air, laced with an unspoken threat that if Gregory's emotional investment became too much of a hindrance, she was more than prepared to send him away. Ridahne cared about Rylie too, but she knew something of strategy, and she knew that to go right for the bait set for them would be to fail.

"He told me we have an unfair advantage with her. Your people intend to level the playing field by keeping you occupied so we don't hinder their progress. But more than that, they intend to test her abilities." Ridahne did not mention the implication of torture or painful testing. It would only worsen things. "My guess is they would not test her in a broken warehouse or a dark room. No, you people in this part of the System love your technology. I guarantee they'll haver her in a testing facility, or somewhere with a lot of tech and resources. Seeing as how you two are in the know on these things, I figured you would know of any in the area. We can find where they are and that will narrow down our search by a large margin. I say by day, we should search for Rylie. By night, we should sort through the information we gathered today on our own mission and continue plowing forward. In the meantime, I will contact Hadian. But if we stop our work altogether, we play right into their trap."

Ridahne looked between the two men, waiting for their responses and reactions to her suggestions and the information given to them. She did not know why, but she made no mention of the things she told the man about her identity and purpose here, about her role as a double agent. Ridahne tried to convince herself that it was for their own good--if someone tried to call out her bluff and ask these two about it, they would know nothing that would make her story seem a lie. In part, it was that. But darkly, secretly, quietly, the woman did not quite dare to admit to herself that somewhere deep inside of her, she longed for the alibi to be true.

She would still have to swear a luora kahn if she ever wanted to return to Azurei, but she would get off with a far easier task of proving herself worthy if she had something to offer from the start.

Darkly, guiltily, and almost wickedly, Ridahne thought for a split second that infiltration could be her ticket home.

Thankful the telepath was nowhere near her, Ridahne swallowed silently and buried her thoughts under a visage of impassable stone.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Sat Mar 14, 2015 10:39 pm

Mark eyed the woman in the backseat with his rear view mirror. She had blood on her. Small specks but he was trained for observation. He watched her clean herself, compose herself.

He was relieved to hear that Ridahne had found out they had no intention of killing Rylie. It did not seem to relieve Gregory however. The man still seemed tense and aggravated.

Mark was less than happy to know that the man had been left alive but he couldn’t Ridahne. He wasn’t there, he didn’t know about the games he had tried to play so he trusted her judgement. He also didn’t like knowing that they were being played.

“Time?” Gregory felt indignant that Ridahne could talk as if Rylie had all the time in the world. She didn’t know that things that had been done to her since she was a child. How often the tests had pushed Rylie’s mind close to a breaking point. What if these tests finally broke her? What if he never got her back the way she was?

Mark could see the look on Gregory’s face. “Ridahne is right. We are soldiers first and we are not going to be able to help Rylie if we lose our cool. I get it, you care for her a great deal but we have to focus on.”

Gregory gave them both a hard look. He was scared for her but they were right. He was not focused, he knew it but how could he be?

“You don’t understand...depending on what they do to her they might, even accidentally break her. Her mind doesn’t work like yours or mine.”

Mark gave Gregory a sympathetic look. “I get it, we both do but we can’t forget our training. We need a plan.”

Both men thought on Ridahne’s question. Neither knew of any facilities like that in the area.

Mark frowned. “I don’t think the people who have her are government. Our guys already did all the tests they want to her right?”

Gregory nodded slowly. “Private firm or organization of some kind. I think we need to make some calls.”

Mark nodded. “I need to call in anyway. I won’t make mention of Rylie being gone. No sense causing an issue. I don’t want to be retracted, not now. I think I will tell them we have a lead on another group and see what I can find out.”

Gregory nodded. “I will make some calls too.”

The car started and Mark drove them to the hotel. The room was cleaned, beds made. Mark, suspicious now after what had happened began sweeping the room for listening devices, bugs of any kind. It would do them well to be a bit more paranoid now. There were too many players in the game and no way to know motive of all.

“Nothing that I can see but be aware.”

Gregory sat in a chair and began to write things down. “I will make some calls in the morning.”

Mark looked to Ridahne. “You want to make your call tonight? I can set that up for you after I make my report.”

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Mon Mar 16, 2015 1:00 am

Ridahne was not in the mood to be argued with (though really, when was she ever?) so when Gregory got testy with her, she just eyed him sharply. She wanted to retort back to him that she'd done him a favor by doing the dirty work for him, but that would only escalate the situation, she reminded herself. She bit her tongue and let the men go back and forth. It was, however, disconcerting that neither man knew of any testing facilities within their own faction. Ridahne's face burned; had she been mistaken in leaving him?

"That's not the answer I hoped for, but it still gives us something to go by. Wherever this place is, it won't be small. We can still look around. If we wanted to join in on the playing of games, we can tell your people that we suspect the Azurei of doing some vague sort of testing and ask where they might be. It could give us some information while still making us look like we're on track. I don't know. Just a thought. If you really want to, our friend is still back there. I have him cooking in a hot room and hanging by his wrists. He might be missing a part of his face...he likely hasn't been found yet, if you really want to go back there and interrogate him further, be my guest," she growled, eyes hardening. "But good luck, and I don't recommend sending me back in there, unless you want him dead. That sicko enjoys me too much," she said with a disgusted sneer. "Besides, I threw him off when I left. It wasn't what he expected or wanted. I say we keep that advantage."

Ridahne thought for sure she knew who sent the man--surely it was the government...but if Gregory and Mark were saying it wasn't...then who would it be? Or maybe it still was, but it was a different faction giving access to some other third party? Ridahne didn't understand, but it only made her more uncomfortable. The more players in this game, the more convoluted and nasty it would get. Ridahne knew that for sure.

They drove back to the hotel and both men set about their business. Ridahne nodded to Mark. "I would," she said, though there was an apprehension in her voice as she steeled herself for what was to come. "But it needs to be a video call, if you can help it. So my Ojih can be seen--it's an Azurei custom." Never mind that that custom would make it more difficult for her in the end...

Ridahne waited uneasily for Mark to finish. She perched herself on her bed, legs folded underneath her and hands folded gently in her lap. Her breathing was measured, albeit forcefully, like she was meditating. She was afraid to face Hadian again, afraid to see the hurt in his eyes, but then she was giddy, too. She needed to be collected for this. As soon as Mark set up the call for her, she dialed the number, only to find it ringing endlessly without an answer. Her brows knit together and she tried a different number. It rang for a while, but then the screen flickered to life and a tiny, un-tattooed brown face peered into the camera with bleary, curious eyes.

"Ja'ti," she said softly, recognizing by the surrounding darkness that it was either very late or very early. She spoke in Azurian. "Sorry for bothering you. What are you doing outside at this hour?"
The little boy on the other end answered suspiciously, [i]"I sleep here...are you supposed to be call--"
The device on the other end was wrenched out of the boy's hands and an older boy, well into his late teens with black hair marled by red dust and a colorful Ojih on his face, glared sharply at Ridahne through the screen. "Bruu'jio! Why do you call here?" His tone was unkind. Ridahne was equally as harsh, if not more.
"My business is of importance to the Sota-Sol and unless you want a mark like mine, you ought to listen to me, rat. I need Hadian Torzinei, the seaman. Find him now."
After some muffled deliberation, the little boy took the device again and sprinted, his bare feet padding against packed dirt. There was the sound of pounding on a door, the door swinging open, and the device was passed off to someone else in the dark. Only the light of the screen lit Hadian's face, but even that light proved to be too bright to do anything but squint. Beside him, a russet cat with black tipped ears and marks on her face curled up against him, willing him to go back to sleep. The cat's head was nearly the size of his, and her paws almost the size of his palm.

"Ridahne! Ridahne, what did I tell you about calling--do you know what time it is?"
"No."
"You can't do this, Ridahne, you can't! Do you understand your position? Do you understand how this impacts me? If an Eija came walking in here--"
"This is important, Hadian. This is not personal. Did you hear me? Not personal. Remember that. I have a favor to ask of you--"
"Ridahne! You can't--"
"Damn it, Hadian, listen to me!" The cat's ears swiveled up at her and tried to bat at the screen with her huge paw.
"Mitaja, that's enough..." Hadian growled, pushing the cat away. She yawned with a deep groan, showing wicked white fangs. "Okay. But this better be important."
"It is. This favor is official business. I have intel that is very important to the Sota-Sol, but I need it to get to the right people first. I need you to transfer a message to a Taja. His name is Ajoran Tavahaisi. I need you to tell him to meet me underneath the 18th street bridge at midnight. Tonight, if possible, but tomorrow night if not. Tell him it is of the utmost importance to the war."
"Does he know you? How do you know him, Ridahne? Will he even listen to me?"
"He does," Ridahne said quietly. "He will know the name Torzinei. Please Hadian, do this for me--for Azurei."
"Ai...okay, I'll do what I can. How is it you always manage to get me into trouble?"
Ridahne smiled weakly. "That's my job. How's Mitaja?"
"She still likes you better." The cat had perked up at hearing her name and looked excitedly at the screen, expecting Ridahne to come to her in person. "She hunts with I'auten and his family while I'm gone. She's been good for them, but she doesn't listen as well as she did to you. She's always been your cat."
"I know."
"Ridahne, I need to go. I understand this is official business, but if anyone found out I was talking to you about more than that..."
"Please, Hadian, can't you--"
"No, Ridahne. I have a job to keep, I'm looking to get married in the near future. I can't do this anymore Ridahne..."
She sobered, her shoulders drooping. It was the most demure Mark had ever seen her, or likely ever would. "I understand."
"I'll do what I can," he said gently. He was not without compassion for his younger sister, who looked strikingly like him. "I'm sorry I can't do more, Ri..."
"I understand." Her tone was hollow and the profound grief in her heart was evident.
"Watch yourself, sister. Be careful."
"I will. When you and Ma'aela marry, give her my blessing. And take care of Mitaja."
"I will. I'll go send your message now. Would...this be enough to bring you home, you think?"
Ridahne gave a sardonic snort of dry laughter. "No. Not after what I've done."
Her brother nodded. "Aiyanih, Ridahne."
"Aiyanih, Hadian." There was a small pause, then the call was finished.

Ridahne did not make eye contact with anyone; she handed the phone back to Mark and said, "Thank you," in a quiet breath of a voice. "I will go wait for Ajoran later tonight. If he gets my message in time, he will be there. If he is not, I will look again tomorrow. I would like to go alone for this one."

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Fri Mar 27, 2015 5:09 pm

Mark frowned as the phone was handed back to him. “You likely don’t want us hanging around huh?”

He wasn’t very keen on Ridahne going alone. He knew she could take care of herself but as a team he felt that they shouldn’t do things on their own. She had already interrogated the man alone but this felt like a bit much.

“I won’t go if you say so but can we at least tag you with a tracker?”
*****
The images came at her over and over again. Guns, people, death, blood...flowers, mountains. They changed faster than what a human brain could think. She knew it was forced into her head. She knew that some men had taken her, drugged her even as she had read them. She had sensed them coming but it was too later, they were too fast. She had been focusing on the end of the alley, the man there.

Rylie was drenched in sweat. She could feel it running down her back. Her mouth was dry and her stomach turned. The images were too fast, flickering out of control. This was more intense than any tests the military had put her through. It was worse than any time they had tried to push her ability before. This was as if they wanted her to break.

She had been trying to read them from the moment they caught her but there was too much static, too much white noise from the very beginning. It was like they knew what she could do and had taken measures to counteract her.

“Please-” She pleaded softly. She was close to being sick. Rylie was exhausted. She wasn’t even sure how long this had been going on but it was so rapid she could not block it no matter how much she tried.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Mon Mar 30, 2015 2:05 am

It was as though someone had shackled a great anchor to Ridahne's sternum, for it weighted heavily on her, as did her shoulders, her head. Everything felt weighty. Heavy. No longer worth attempting to keep erect, or at least it took a great effort. A swirl of emotions plagued the Azurei woman; it was the only time she was grateful Rylie was not present, for it might have rushed at her like a tumultuous storm. Ridahne felt anger. A low, deep anger that made her curse her lot in life as she often did--after this exchange, it was not hard to see why the woman always had a sort of chip on her shoulder and tasted the world with a bitter tongue. Her loss was profound and in many ways shattered her entire world. For this, Ridahne felt a smothering grief, now. Then guilt for shaming her family and herself, then the sharp, sour pangs of remorse over things long past.

The russet-skinned woman wanted either to cry or to punch right through the thin drywall of the hotel room in anger, but she did neither and instead sat almost motionless and defeated on the bed, one leg still tucked underneath her. She did not look up at Mark, though not out of spite this time. She simply could not bear to meet eyes with another human, for she felt deeply ashamed. It was the first time since she had met Mark that she lacked her inner spitting fire or her resolve of stone. Ridahne, for those few moments, was as placid as water.

"No," she said finally. "You can stay. I don't care." Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, but she regained a tiny spark of her fire as he requested that she be tracked while she was away. With her voice still quiet but decidedly much sharper, like a knife in the dark, she said, "I am no dog. I am a free agent and I am here because I choose to be. I may come and go as I wish. I can defend myself. If I can't, then I will pass into the next world and my fate will be decided by the Gatekeeper. That is that." Ridahne let that sink in before she added, "Besides, if he finds it, his duty will not allow him to spare me. I will have no tracker." Even in her defeated, deflated state, she wasn't about to budge on that issue.

"But," she sighed, relenting a little. "If it makes you feel any better, you can drive me into town yourself, hide yourself, and then I will walk the rest of the way alone and meet you when I am done. If I don't return, assume I am dead or captured and do not follow me. Does that satisfy you?" Ridahne's language always got more formal when she was upset--on some level, it was because she was very guarded and had to choose her words carefully. And, she thought, it fit the mood well enough.

Ridahne did not meet his eyes but instead looked somewhere in the vicinity of his chest, keenly avoiding the operative's gaze. She cast a slow glance to Gregory, also refusing to make eye contact with him. She looked like a male lion who had his mane shaved off; stripped of her standing in the world. But she breathed deep and layered like armor upon her visage a cold exoskeleton of indifference and inscrutable neutrality. Ridahne returned to her usual withdrawn but attentive state in just a few seconds with practiced skill in not just hiding but almost suffocating her emotions. A soldier, after all, had to be like stone, and in many ways, a soldier she still was.

"Did either of you come across anything useful in your own phone conversations?" She asked.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Fri Apr 10, 2015 8:23 pm

Mark frowned. ‘I didn’t mean it like you were a dog. I meant after what happened I don’t want us to be caught unaware again. I know you can take care of yourself but if these people are trying to stall us who knows what else they will do.”

He crouched in front of her. “I am completely fine with driving you and hiding out while you do the talking. I don’t like the whole assume you are dead part but...I can concede to just driving you down.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes and Mark felt bad. She was clearly struggling.

Mark shook his head and stood. “I keep getting stonewalled. No one seems to be able to tell me about any big companies who might want in on this.”

Gregory shuffled a few papers. ‘I got three leads on companies that would have labs that could even be close to what they need for testing her. Thing is there is a bunch of stuff I couldn’t get information on, things I was told I had no clearance for. Like this…”

He pulled out a map and pointed to a spot that he had circled. “There is a large building there but who owns it isn’t public record and military won’t tell me anything. Here too.” He pointed to another area on the map. “I don’t even know if they are owned by the same company or more than one.”

Gregory sat back and crossed his arms.

“We have three named and two mysterious buildings. I think we need to check them all but something tells me she is going to be in one of the buildings that we are being kept unaware of.”

There was a sneer in his voice, anger behind it all. It was easy to tell he was trying hard to hold it all in, to control it. It was hard and he wanted nothing more than to rush off and check out the buildings. He wanted her back.

Mark leaned back against the wall. “I think we check out the three named in the daylight. I bet we will be followed. So let’s let them see us doing what they expect.”

Gregory took a deep breath. “They weren’t even all that concerned when I told them I was looking for her, that she was kidnapped. One of their own…”

Mark nodded. “I can see how angry you are and I feel for that. We need to play the game while we try to find Rylie under the radar.”
*****
She could feel the sweat running down her back. She had vomited earlier and the air was filled with the acrid scent. Her body wasn’t cooperating. Rylie laid on the floor of the very bright, white room they had put her in.
It was quiet in here. Too quiet. They had gone from a lot of white noise and images to nothing as if they were blocking everything out. There was nothing. For the first time in her life there was nothing in her head. She couldn’t even hear herself think.

The silence was terrifying.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Fri Apr 10, 2015 11:37 pm

Ridahne sneered a little, but it was at nothing and no one in particular until she said, "I am not afraid of your people. They don't know me, and they don't know how to break me--I don't break when others do." She gave a mirthless chuckle. "My childhood alone made me calloused enough, not to mention my time as an Eija. No. If I'm taken, it will either be my time to go or I'll get one step closer to finding Rylie. Either way, it will be what it will be. For your own safety, if I don't return, you can't follow me. Do you understand that?" She was firm, insistent, but not quite so harsh as she said this. "Besides, if they come within proximity of Taja and attack them, they'll be the first to get stabbed, not me." She knew, strangely enough, that if these people came for her, being with Taja was the safest place she could be. They would sooner kill an enemy than one of their own, even though she was a traitor.

Ridahne listened to Gregory describe what he'd found, and that seemed promising enough to her. At the very least, they could check out the leads he discovered and either find what they wanted, or they would be able to narrow down their search further by figuring out what kinds of places not to include in their search. It was a start, and that's all they needed. They would get there eventually.

Loosely, the woman thought back to the man she'd left in the warehouse and wondered how much blood he lost before someone found him, or if they did at all. She hadn't searched him for a phone or anything so she figured he had one. Undoubtedly he would find a way to contact someone. Disliking the memory of him, she pushed the man out of her mind. "Their lack of alarm is something to note," she added. "Sounds to me like they already know about her disappearance, and that's something to remember."

Just a moment later, Mark's phone rang with a video call from an unknown number with an origin listed as ATAKHARA, AZUREI, THETA. Ridahne saw the number and snatched the phone instantly, answering the call. "Hadian! Ja'ti!" Her eyes brightened in a flash.
Hadian was slumped in a chair, leaning his elbows on a small table in his now lit house. The light glowed dun against the golden-red walls of the brick house he lived in. The house was small and cramped by Outer Ring standards, and even by Azurian standards, though in the Heartlands that was relatively normal. His bed where Mitaja still lay was on one side and on the other was another bed with a brightly woven blanket that looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. The blanket was decidedly feminine--it was Ridahne's, once upon a time. "Ja'ti..." he muttered, exhausted. "I can't talk long. The street kids made some mention of Eija patrolling the area--routine stuff, but they can't catch me on the phone with you."
Ridahne was almost breathless. "Okay."
"I managed to get through to this friend of yours."
Ridahne's breath hitched a little in her throat. "You did? That fast?"
"I have a friend who knows a lot of people. Anyway, he said he'd come tonight. I just thought I'd pass that along. Ridahne...who exactly is he? He thought you were dead."
"We served together. He was a favorite sparring partner of mine."
Hadian's brow twitched upward in scrutiny. "Sparring partner, huh?"
Ridahne nodded curtly. "Yeah. Sparring partner."
"Mm. Well I have to go. Hold fast, Ridahne, and keep your sword sharp. Aiyannih."
"Aiyannih."

He was gone as soon as he'd called. It left Ridahne in a different state this time, less defeated and more nervous now that she was actually going to meet Ajoran that night. Blinking, she handed the phone back to Mark again. "Well. That's good news. Seems like we have enough to start. But I suggest for everyone's sake we start our full assault tomorrow morning. Come at them fresh. That means sleeping has to happen somewhere in there." Her eyes were on Gregory, ordering him to rest lest he sit up all night worrying.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Tue Apr 14, 2015 9:09 am

Mark shook his head. “I didn’t mean you should be-”

His phone rang and Ridahne grabbed it.

He was annoyed at what Gregory had found, the idea that their own people weren’t concerned at Rylie’s disappearance, as if they knew. Mark paced as Ridahne talked.

When she hung up Mark leaned against the wall. “I will go with you, like we discussed. Gregory.” He looked at the man. “You need to rest and we need a detailed plan of where we are visiting first tomorrow.”

Gregory slumped, just a little. “Alright.”

He knew he needed to sleep but the idea of not knowing where Rylie was or how she was doing, worse if she was hurt or in pain made it difficult to rest.

“I will try and sleep.”

He went off to the bathroom and closed the door.

Mark frowned.

“He is not himself but I guess none of us would be if someone we loved was missing.”

He rolled his shoulders.

“I am ready to go when you are so just give me a shout.” He went off and found a corner. He removed his shirt and started to do push ups. He needed to burn off some of what he was feeling.
************
The quiet was too much. At first it was a nice break and now it was deafening. She whimpered and cried softly. She was able to move now, no longer bound to anything. Rylie curled up on her side and covered her head with her hands.

She tried to hum to take away the quiet but whatever this room was it sucked the sound of her own voice away. Rylie began to cry harder. Even the sound of her sobs was taken away.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Wed Apr 15, 2015 1:38 am

"I second that. Rest, Gregory. We need you at your best tomorrow." She watched him disappear into the bathroom and nodded to Mark. "Loss changes people in a profound way. It makes them into entirely different people, just like that." She snapped her slender fingers, her eyes distant and thoughtful. "I got into the most fights and squabbles right after my mom died. I still have some scars." She smirked mirthlessly, still distracted by a myriad of thoughts and feelings.

Ridahne rose from the bed and stretched slowly, meticulously like it was more of a ritual than satisfying a physical urge, and with all the grace of a swordmaster, she looked like a dancer. A lethal one, but elegant nonetheless. While Mark did pushups on the floor, Ridahne paced a small section of open floorspace with her knife and practiced her sword forms with it. The knife was a sad substitute for a sword, but she couldn't afford to use the larger weapon considering the lack of space. So she occupied herself with this, using it to calm her racing brain and kill some time.

She could hardly believe she was about to go and meet Ajoran. What was she supposed to say? And what would he say? How much had he changed since they'd seen each other? And Ridahne wondered how much she'd changed as well. Probably quite a bit. Her mind showed a torrent of mixed feelings, and it bothered her enough that for once, she spoke out about it. To Mark, of all people.

"I hate to admit it, but I'm...nervous to go. I haven't seen him in so long, I don't even know what I'd say..." She had to remember to speak Azurian with him--she'd been so reliant on English lately. "And.." she stammered, "It's a complicated sort of meeting we're doing. In case you haven't noticed, we aren't really simple people." Ridahne paced. "I probably shouldn't be wearing this if I'm going to go meet with a Taja..." She was talking out loud, mostly to herself now as she looked down at her torn jeans. With practiced skill, Ridahne changed into her uri without ever once showing anything of her legs above the knee--not with Mark around. In the same manner, she changed into a loose fitting black shirt and buckled her back-sheath on underneath it, testing the weight of her sword in her hand before replacing it in the sheath and smoothing her clothes over it. To all but the most practiced eye, it was invisible.

Then Ridahne waited. Paced. Waited.

Darkness came. Ridahne informed Mark quietly that it was time to go, and the two drove off towards the meeting point. About a mile away, she instructed him to pull over and let her out, then told him to wait there for her. "If I'm not back in three hours," she said sternly, "Get out of here and try to find yourselves a new hotel." With that, Ridahne shut the door and disappeared down the street into the amber-lit darkness.

Ridahne felt so sneaky as she ducked out of the way of streetlights and into deeper shadows that the cool night offered. She shivered once and rubbed her hands against her arms, longing deeply for the desert heat of home. She didn't know why, but she felt that she had to be quiet as she moved so as not to attract attention even though her hair was down and shrouding he face a little from any unsuspecting passers-by. Maybe she was nervous. Maybe she felt dirty and guilty for going and finding Ajoran again. Maybe it was a mix of both.

Ridahne stole around a corner, hopped a little fence between two buildings, and padded sofly down a dim alleyway where was was one more corner ahead of her, and then the bridge. Ridahne halted. What would she say? What would he say? The woman straightened her uri and felt for her knife just in case she needed it. How was she supposed to do this? More than once, she tucked her hair behind her ears, only to comb it forward again so it hung at her cheeks. On the one hand, he needed to see her Ojih and if she didn't display it, he would ask to see it anyway. But then again, she couldn't bear to walk up to him and display her shame. Ridahne felt her heart lurch and twist in her chest. What if this was just a trap, and he didn't come?

She had to do this. For her. For the mission. For him. More boldly than she actually felt, Ridahne took a few steps forward and around the corner, then down the gravel bank where a dark figure in billowing clothes stood underneath the concrete arch silhouetted in a wash of sickly green light that did not yet touch either him or her. He turned and she could feel the weight of his Amber eyes on her, searching her. She could not move. The figure came closer and into the light, but he kept approaching. It was him alright, and part of her wanted to cry out in joy to see him in the flesh again. She was silent. Still, he came towards her.
"Ridahne." It was just a whisper, but it felt like a tsunami in her ears. Yes, that voice! It was so good to hear it again. She did not move but instead thought silently to herself, Yes. Say it again. Please. Ridahne felt rough hands on hers that pulled her almost unwillingly and yet lured her closer to him as he guided her into the light. She felt hot with shame. Ajoran looked at her in full light now and immediately dropped his hands away from hers to take a step back. For long, painful seconds, he just looked at her agog and in utter silence. It was then that Ridahne discovered that he did not know what happened to her, but instead he only knew that she was one day gone. His eyes locked onto her Ojih with horror, sadness, and disbelief.

She spoke finally in Azurian. "You didn't know?"
He hesitated, then, "I counted you as dead. I was away on a delivery to some sentries and when I came back, I asked for you the next morning. No one knew where you had gone, but all of your things were left behind, all but your blades. We all thought...Ridahne, what did you do?"
"Don't ask that of me, please," she begged.
"Ridahne! If I was anyone else, I wouldn't ask, but of anyone, I deserve to know." When she did not answer, he pulled out a twisting piece of carved and polished carnelian that formed a little hook at the top that was just the right size to fit through the quarter inch hole in her right earlobe. Ridahne choked back tears at the sight of it. "I held onto this, you know. My brother always said I could give it to someone else, but I couldn't. I made it for you, Ridahne Torzinei. You and nobody else."
"How long have you had this?" Ridahne breathed, struggling for air.
"Six months before you left."
Ridahne flared with anguish suddenly, throwing her fist into his chest. "Why didn't you tell me?" She hit him again. "What were you waiting for?"
"I was offered an apprenticeship with a bladesmith at home. I was going to ask you to come with me after my term was through since yours was about to end too, but then you were offered a higher rank in exchange for the Iroi job and you took it. I didn't want to take that from you, I knew being an Eija was your dream. So I was going to wait until that term was done. Then you left."

Ridahne howled, socking him in the cheek this time. Ajoran stepped back a half step, stunned by the sudden blow. Despite her best efforts, tears streamed down her inked cheeks. "If you had presented this to me when you first made it, I wouldn't have taken the Iroi job and I wouldn't be in this mess! Ajoran, I would have followed you to the ends of the earth! I would have forsaken the sea and the dunes and everything that I knew to follow you!"

A long silence followed, broken only by Ridahne's soft sniffles. Ajoran looked fiercely guilty; neither of them had ever verbally expressed the nature of their relationship so plainly, or at all, really. It was a mutual and unspoken thing that both of them just understood. This fact had given him some comfort after she'd gone, as there was no concrete proof on her end of what could have been. But now there was, and regret tore a him painfully. "Now I have to know," he said quietly.
"Don't--"
"It's my right to know. And I have to know what my mistake put you through."
"The fault was mine. I made my choice."
"Tell me."
Sighing, she relented softly. "In Iroi, we were going after the high general. He'd left because he knew we were coming, and we waited for his return. Khaltira-sol wanted to draw him out, so I was chosen to sneak into his home and assassinate his wife and daughter. I agreed, but I had a wave of panic the night before and I was sick with guilt and fear. I told her no. To her face."
Ajoran gasped. "Ridahne! How were you not executed?"
"I was supposed to be. I was certainly threatened with it, but Khaltira-Sol admired my drive thus far and spared me. But I'm in exile for it. I got what I deserved. Less, really."
"And the second one?" He touched the scab gently, fingers barely skimming as if it would cause him physical pain to touch it more. "That's fresh....what did you do?"
"I was at the rally, Ajoran. I saw you there. A lot of things happened, but I'm...look, can't we just--"
"Ridahne!"
"Alright! I'm working with a few...with two or three IP's."
Ajoran hardened. "Then you might know what happened to Suvian, then?" His tone made her uncomfortable instantly. For a moment, it didn't sound quite like him.
"Who's Suvian?" She was a good liar, even in front of him. But just as she thought, the Taja were furious. She noted this for later.
"Mm. Maybe not then. Still, what are you hoping to gain? I thought you hated them..."
"I do..."
"I thought you used to sabotage their gear when they tried to meddle in Atakhara..."
"I did. But they aren't...they don't even know Azurei and there's something bigger happening here. Don't make this about me, what about you!? Since when do you kill civilians? Kids? Destroy buildings and blow up hundreds of people?"
Ajoran sort of shut down then, hardening into a kind of empty husk of a man, a cold soldier. "I followed my orders. It is not my place to ask questions of my Sota."
"Ajoran!" She pushed him this time, tears stinging her eyes again. "Didn't you ever look back? Didn't you see what you did? That's murder! Mass murder, Ajoran!"
"What was I supposed to do? Abandon everyone I ever knew and defy my Sota? Be executed??"
"I did it."
"Well that's clear, isn't it?" He jabbed, looking to the marks on her face. She went to punch him in the gut, but he caught her wrist this time and gave it a small twist to deter her from trying with her other fist. Ridahne had half a mind to bite his fingers, but she desperately didn't want this to escalate.
"Tell me," she said, her voice cold and her eyes aflame, "do you sleep at night knowing you were a part of this? Does that make you happy? Do you feel like a good soldier? Do you feel honorable?"
He hardened again. "My duty is to my Sota and my Sota-Sol above her. I am her keeper."
"I did not ask Taja'ae'Sota Kai! I asked Ajoran Tezusha! I asked my friend! I asked the man who holds a Ku'o he carved just for me of his district's stone. I answered you because you said you deserved to know. Now it's my turn. Answer me, Ajoran."
He didn't. He didn't say a word and couldn't, really, but he dropped his head low and Ridahne could see his head shake slightly back and forth. That was enough for her. Ridahne knew that duty was a hard thing to defy, but it was more important to her that he felt regret, because then he was human and still the man that she knew. "I'm sorry you had to make that choice. If...if you asked for that apprenticeship again, could you still get it? Retire from being a Taja--honorably--and be a bladesmith back home? Your home?"
Ajoran pondered for a moment, then gave a little nod. "Probably. It wouldn't be what I had in mind though...I didn't want to go alone."
"And if you didn't?"
Ajoran brightened, but it turned to a concerned scowl very quickly. "You'd give a Luora'kahn? You'd make your way back home?"
"Well I'm...I don't...its crossed my mind but... I don't know. With the way things are going, I'm not sure I could. I hate to say it but I kind of like some of the people I work with. Some. They aren't like the ones we saw back home, not so pushy. And if I was asked to kill them...I couldn't do it, Ajoran. Not even the other one I don't like as much. He's annoying but even he doesn't deserve to die. I don't want to kill anymore. I don't want to take orders anymore."
"Mm," was all he said, as he was not allowed to agree with her and yet he somewhat sympathized. Being a Taja was such an honor, but as he discovered in the last few days, it was not an easy job and he knew that it was easy--almost essential--to cut away the part of himself that made him human to make him a better soldier, a better servant. His father was that way, and though he admired and respected his father greatly, the former Taja always was distant with him, and Ajoran remembered a time when he changed quite drastically. This seemed to be the natural progression of his own life, but as he looked into Ridahne's eyes, he felt a pull in his chest to feel again. Just a little.

"Your time abroad changed you, Ridahne. But not much, I hope. Still the heartlander rat I knew? Still picking fights?"
"Master of the rats, thank you. And I did recently get thrown out of a bar for starting a brawl."

She did offer a little smile. It faded for a minute, dissolving into a scowl as she averted her eyes for a bit. She could not escape his gaze, as he sought her out with his own. "Ajoran..." She said quietly, barely above the dull buzz of the weak light overhead. "I am sorry I had to leave you...I am sorry for my disgrace and dishonor. For my betrayal. For everything." She took his hand that held the carnelian Ku'o, still blank where her family crest would have gone. She unfurled his fingers and touched the stone earring, tracing the twisted lines with her fingertip. "When you made this, did you mean it? Did you really make it for me?"
"Aye. I did." He laughed a little. "I forgot how hard it is to carve that, I went through a lot of trouble for you." They both laughed softly then.
"And...would you still give it to me, knowing who I am? I am not pure, Ajoran. I am not all Azurei."
"I knew that when I met you. Wasn't surprised either...I've heard a lot of rumors about Heartlanders being a bit loose with foreigners." Ridahne smiled a bit and slapped his arm; he smiled back at her.
"And that's...and you aren't ashamed of me?"
Ajoran shook his head. "From what I can tell, you are Azurei. Just as much as me. You have that desert fire, you know?" Ridahne had never wanted to hear anything more in her entire life, especially recently. She could feel her eyes sting, but she bit her lip hard to keep from crying again in front of him. She succeeded.
"And would you still give it to me after all that I've done?"

It was here that the conversation soured, and Ridahne felt herself deflate as his face turned dark and regretful. Why did she have to ask? Why couldn't she have bathed herself in the moment instead of grasping for more? Regret clawed at her and disappointment and embarrassment danced wickedly in her chest. Ajoran, too, looked hesitant to answer verbally. But he had to.
"Ridahne..." He touched her tattooed marks gently, a sadness in his eyes. "I would hope and I choose to believe you have not changed too much in the time you've been gone. Some, maybe, but not too much. And if you say you are still master of the heartlander rats, I believe you. But Ridahne..."
No... Ridahne thought.
"You and I both know the laws of our people. I am Taja now, and I must remain so at least until my term is over. I have a promise to fulfill, you know. And we're at war, Ridahne...if we ran into eachother and were not alone, you know what they would make me do, or else someone else would. And as a Taja I just can't...you know how things go. With things as they are right now, Ridahne, I cannot present this to you formally. I would still if I could, but understand please that I just can't..."
Ridahne turned to stone before him. Coldly she said, "I understand." And she did, though her understanding did not help to ease the pain of his words in any way.
"Don't look at me like that, Ridahne--"
"I said I understand," she barked back.

There was silence. Ugly, electric silence that fizzed and sparked between them like a cloud of acid. She would have withdrawn her hand from his, but with his other hand he held it in place. His grip was firm and unmoving. He pressed the carnelian gauge into her hand and closed her thin fingers around it.
"Take this," he said. "I can't present it to you formally, but it was made for you and no other. It wouldn't be right to give it to anyone else. It wouldn't be right for you to wear it, but I want you to have it."
"Why?" She asked icily.
"Because the war will pass, and we don't know the future. Anything can happen. And when the time is right, I'd hope that you think of me again. And I would hope someday to see your marks carved into that stone. I...hope we can see eachother again someday, even though it would be unwise now for us to encounter eachother again right now. But I also want you to have it because there's a chance we won't. We both know how war goes." Ridahne nodded her agreement to that, at least.

The woman hefted the small carved object in her hand; it was so much heavier than her bone one. She never would admit it, but there was once a time when she pictured herself with a stone in her ear of this variety, and she always liked the color. Blood orange like raw iron. She tucked it into a little fold of fabric at her waist that acted like a pocket.
"Thanks," she said a little uncertainly, but she did mean it.

A silence ended the conversation about their personal lives and both knew there was another matter at hand. "The messenger said you had pertinent information relevant to the war effort. What kind of Intel did you find?" He asked at length as he tightened the short ponytail that the long parts of his hair made, high on the back of his head.
"We have reason to believe that the interplanetary federation wanted you to attack."
"I don't understand. We took them by surprise."
"I know you did," she said a little bitterly, but she moved on quickly. "I think they've been provoking Azurei into retaliation as proof that we--you should be kept under control. They're trying to open the door to further conflict so they can take our home from us. And it isn't just us, either. I think more fringe countries like Azurei will answer the call and fight, but if they get involved they'll get destroyed."
"You must have changed indeed if you think they can overrun us. They don't know our home, our sands. We do. We are better warriors than they are anyway."
"Yes, you are, except for the fact that you took innocent lives, but they have things we don't. Bombs that could take out a whole district with one shot from far away. Bam, gone."
"And what would you have us do, let them come?"
"No!" She shook her head. "I understand personally why you all are here and I still agree with your cause. But not your methods. Aside from being dishonorable, it's likely to make the problem worse. You caught them by surprise this time, but next time they'll be ready for you. All eyes are on Azurei now, and soon eyes will turn to the rest of Theta, too. And they will be ready. I am not advising you to stand down, because I don't believe you should. Besides, it's not our way. But I would advise you to change course. You have made your statement, now be more....strategic."
"What are you suggesting exactly?"
"I don't know. You're the soldier. That's for you and your Sota to decide. I don't want more blood on my hands. Just know that I say this out of love for my people and my home, not because I am different now or a traitor. And I wouldn't lie to you."
"Mm..." Ajoran nodded, knowing that much was true. "I can't guarantee anyone will listen."
"I know."
"I don't make the decisions. I may be Taja, but even we have our own ranking and I am not high among them. But consider the information noted," he said, his tone all business.
"Good."

Stillness crept over them again; Ridahne looked long into his eyes and at his Ojih because she knew it wouldn't last long. They both knew what had to happen next.
"If they find out I found you without drawing steel on you..."
"I know. I came ready."
"Of course you did. I would expect nothing less. Besides, I know you were carrying because you stand a little straighter when you have a blade at your back." He took a fighting stance, slowly and elegantly drawing his knife--not a sword. He flipped it a few times as a challenge as she too drew hers.
"Just like old times."

The two walked a half circle around eachother like two boxers in a ring, then with a simultaneous breath, they swung at eachother and parried, the metal ringing in the night. Ridahne called their sparring dancing once, and it was an apt description with how smoothly they moved together. They did make legitimate swings at eachother, but both knew where the other was inked and tactfully avoided those spots. Ridahne gave him a cut on his arm and his thigh above the knee, and he gave her one across her ribs. None of them were particularly deep, but enough to draw significant blood to prove that their fight was well matched and difficult. Ajoran purposely left his stance a little uneven most of the fight, so when she had the opportunity, Ridahne swept her leg across his ankle and brought him to his knees. And in those split seconds, she was gone, springing into the darkness and out of sight or earshot. Ajoran did not pursue, but he watched her go until there was nothing left but the quiet night.

Ridahne returned to Mark and his vehicle, holding her side with one arm and her sword sheathed. Since her shirt was black, no blood could be seen until she got into the car and the little light overhead showed a film of wet red blood on her forearm and hand. The wound was bleeding significantly, but not enough to be worrisome for the present moment. She did not speak to him as she sat, just simply hung her head and let her black curls hang on either side of her face, sticking to her forehead and the beads of sweat accumulated there.

"Can I ask you to stop by a drugstore and get me some bandages? Maybe some alcohol, too. Both kinds," she added quietly as she continued to apply pressure to her midsection. "I don't want to bleed all over the place...or get an infection." Ridahne never once looked up to him, just continued to stare at her knees underneath the folds of her blue uri.


(Woof, that ended up being kind of a novel. Gracious.)

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Sat May 02, 2015 8:37 pm

Mark waited, tense and hyper aware. What if something happened to her? What if it was a trap?

Time ticked by really slowly. It was like being on recon only worse. On recon it was a job, it was cold and displaced. This was personal. He liked Ridahne. He found her beautiful and smart, wickedly strong as well as an adept warrior.

When the door opened and she climbed back in Mark was extremely relieved. Then as he looked over he spotted the blood.

“Ridahne!”

She asked for a drugstore. She was holding what he assumed was her wound.

Mark inhaled slowly. “Alright. I will take you for bandages and everything you need but you let me do the tending to it, alright? I will get you booze too so you can help keep the pain down.”

He put his hands on the wheel and drove off. He was tense in the driver’s seat. She was alive but injured.

Mark was only sort of paying attention to the road. He managed to get them to a drugstore without crashing the car. He was inside in a flash and back out with a bag full of supplies. After that he arrived at a liquour store.

Soon he had everything Ridahne asked for and was driving back to the hotel. His eyes kept darting to her in the passenger seat. She was sweating slightly and her colour was a little off.

The car was parked and he was out, bags in hand and at her door. “Do you need help?”

He didn’t want to insult her by trying to help. She was a warrior.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Sat May 02, 2015 10:08 pm

"I'll be fine," she assured him quickly, casting a snarl towards Mark. "I've had worse." And indeed, she had. Broken bones took longer to heal and hurt worse, she decided. Besides, she was no stranger to scars. "Do what you want. Just get me some bandages. And drive fast." Ridahne was quiet for a while, but eventually she added, "It's done. I said what I needed to. And more. He'll go and tell his superiors and hopefully they'll be wise enough to take it to heart." Her accent was a little thicker after she'd spent so much time speaking her native language, making her english almost a little jagged like Azurian tended to be. "He believed me though. That's what's important. I don't know what they'll do but...at least they know now."

Ridahne was dead silent the rest of the ride. She just sat doubled over, arms curled over her midsection to try and dam up the bleeding as best she could. When they passed under a street light the wet dark stains of blood could be seen, giving her black shirt a deadly sheen on its lower half. Her arm was covered in red. As Ridahne leaned her forehead against the dashboard of the car, she was once again grateful that Rylie was not in her proximity, for the thoughts in her head were not only as reckless as an ocean storm, but there were thoughts she was not yet ready to tell anyone yet. Thoughts of abandoning the mission. Thoughts of going home. Thoughts of turning. She didn't like the idea altogether, but after speaking with Ajoran and learning how he felt about her and envisioning a quieter life with him in the mountains--no more running, no more shame, no more being stuck in the lonely world between her two heritages--it sounded more appealing.

Home. Ridahne thought home with an agonizing longing. If she could just go back...if only she could erase the past...

Ridahne blinked and realized she'd been completely absent from the present moment, though she couldn't tell for how long. All she knew was that they'd passed into a different neighborhood and had been driving for some time. There was a bag of supplies in the backseat just behind Mark. Her head felt light and her forehead was moist. Her uri had gained a little blood now as it had flowed slowly through her fingers. Before she could think too much about it, they were back at the hotel in the parking lot and Mark had opened her door. Ridahne rose slowly and awkwardly, swaying slightly. "No," she answered him, though even as she spoke she shot out a hand and braced herself on his shoulder for a few seconds. With a few breaths, Ridahne steadied herself and let go of him, but she didn't stray too far from his side--just in case.

They eventually made it up into their room without being seen and thus, without any questions being asked of them as to what had happened to Ridahne. Inside the room, Ridahne wasted no time in sitting down on the floor with her back propped up against her bed, then carefully removed her black shirt and tossed it aside. The blood could have been washed out, but the slit in it was too large to bother repairing. She'd find herself another eventually. Ridahne unbuckled her sword harness and carefully set the weapon aside, leaving her with only her black sports bra on. She didn't care much--the sports bra was modest enough and she needed to get her wound cleaned up and dealt with. The cut was clean as though it had been made with a razor blade, though it was not so narrow. The wound was long--a big, powerful slash that was measured expertly so as not to cut too deep, nor too shallow. Ajoran made his mark very intentionally. It sat on the lower part of her ribs on her left side.

Ridahne reached out her hand towards Mark. "Au'ro," she said, her accent rolling her r's hard. "Au'ro! Te'aji a'ae au'ro! Aaaaiii..." she growled, pointing finally towards the bottle of booze. With a focused breath she remembered her english. "Au'ro--alcohol. Gimmie the booze, whatever it is. And the rubbing alcohol. I don't think it needs stitches," she said, examining it. "But it needs attention. But trust me...he looks about as bad as I do. We always were evenly matched...Whatever you're gonna do, do it now, Mark," she hissed at him, "I need to get my clothes clean and I can't do that until I stop bleeding, so hurry up." Well, she certainly hadn't lost any of her sass, that was for sure. Still, Ridahne almost looked caucasian, and it was an eerie complexion on her normally russet-tan features. Ridahne was in no danger of death, not by a longshot, but the wound was significant enough, as was her blood loss, to make her feel a little dizzy.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Wed May 06, 2015 7:04 pm

Mark listened to her assurance that she had gotten through to her friend. She went quiet and Mark wasn’t sure if she was going to be okay or not.

She had told him no, that she didn’t need help but she leaned heavily on him as she got out. Mark said nothing as they made their way into the hotel or as she sat down. He didn’t even tease as she undressed.

Gregory was out of bed in a flash as the pair entered.

Mark handed Ridahne the bottle. She told him to get on with it. It wasn’t long before he had the wound cleaned. It took a bit of time but he got it bandaged without needing to tell her to stay still. No stitches but he did use sterile thin strips to keep the skin together and then gauze over top to help keep it clean and dry. Her colour was still off to him but he really hoped it was more from the shock of the wound than anything else.

“So. Did we learn anything? Did this guy listen?” Gregory inquired from his seat on the edge of the bed. His voice was soft, gentle in the questioning. He was ready to let it drop if she wasn’t up to answering.
--------
Rylie blinked. The light was painful. There were people talking but she was so disoriented she couldn’t make out the words. Her mind was still being dampened. She couldn’t read anything and the quiet in her head was no longer just uncomfortable it was now terrifying.

“Please…” She pleaded weakly.

Hands touched her and she winced as if burned. Her skin felt raw. Rylie realized that her whole body, her mind included felt raw and used.

“Where am I?”

There was no reply. She felt a pinch and realized they were sticking her with a needle. She shook her head. “No. No drugs. I-”

Rylie passed out.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Sat May 09, 2015 6:29 pm

It didn't take long for the bottle to be unscrewed open and for the mouth of it to find Ridahne's lips. As she proved once before, Azurei women could stomach liquor like crusty war-hardened interspace pilots and truck drivers. She did not grimace or cough even as she took one, then two large swigs of the cheap whiskey. It burned, but it was a welcomed distraction from her thoughts and the hot pain in her torso. It hadn't hurt for a while, as she was too distracted and amped up from their duel to really notice much more than a throbbing pain for some time. But now that her mind was calming a little in the quiet sanctuary of the hotel room, she was beginning to feel it now.

Mark began to clean out her wound with the rubbing alcohol and it was only then that she made any noise of discomfort; Ridahne growled and hissed in a breath between tightly clenched teeth, but she managed to stay still through the rest of Mark's handiwork. She was glad she did not need stitches; the last thing she wanted was to go to a hospital where she could be found by the devious low-lifes who captured Rylie, or by some group of bold vigilante civilians who decided that she was a guilty party in the recent events. She'd seen things like that happen before, though she'd never been directly involved, and she did not doubt that such a thing could and would happen here. Besides, with what money would she repay the doctors? She'd only recently heard of insurance as a concept, and she was little more than a drifting homeless vagrant. She had no money. Though she speculated that if she had to, she could do the stitching herself with enough alcohol, as she was relatively proficient at sewing. Either way, she was glad it didn't come to that.

Ridahne sat still, occasionally pulling from the bottle of whiskey clenched in her slender fist. Without wearing one of her usually loose shirts, it was clear just how slender of build she really was. She did not look terribly frail either, but more long and lean like a wildcat. The hot, bloody slash across her ribs was not the only evidence of swordplay on her torso either, as several white marks pocked her tan skin. She had smaller, similar marks on her fingers and the back of her hands--evidence of her time as an Azurian warrior and her experience with a blade.

"Well," she said with a sigh, "I learned some things...but nothing relevant to you," she half snarled. Ridahne stopped herself, realizing that Gregory didn't deserve her venom and she gave him a frown that was borderline apologetic. "We talked about a lot of things," she added finally. "I didn't press him with questions about...those things. He likely couldn't tell me anyway. He has a duty to maintain," she said with a little bit of a snarl in her lips. "But I told him everything that I knew. He listened to me, he trusts me, but he is not high in the ranks among the Taja. I don't know if he can convince his superiors, or even his Sota, but he will try. That's all we can do for now."

Ridahne took in a deep, steady breath that made her wince slightly as the skin around her ribs stretched a little. As though she forgot it until then, she reached into a little fold of fabric around her waist to take out the thick carnelian earring and admire its swirling colors. He'd certainly spent a lot of time carving and polishing it, that was for sure. Her finger ran over the blank, empty place where a family crest was supposed to go--her family crest--and gave a wistful but almost silent sigh. Still admiring it, she said, "The meeting went well, believe it or not. Better than I imagined it would. Ajoran did not know I was alive until today...he thought I died some time ago and we have not spoken since my..." she forced the word out, "exile. We had a lot to discuss, but so little time. I would have given anything to talk all night with him, catching up. We were close," she admitted. "I didn't tell the whole truth when I said we were sparring partners. We were, and that's how we met. But we were friends, first and foremost. Perhaps...more than friends..." she admitted sheepishly, not looking anyone in the eye.

Ridahne held up the stone between two fingers. "He made this for me a long time ago. Said he couldn't give it to anyone else. It's a Ku'o," Ridahne touched her bone one to indicate what she meant. After a pause, and after a small sheen welled up in her amber eyes she said, "it wouldn't be right for me to wear it, not in my ear at least. Not now." When Mark was finished bandaging her up, she rose slowly to rummage through her pack for a length of hemp string which she proceeded to coil around the top of the carnelian and then form into a necklace.

"We parted on good terms, oddly enough. We can't see each other again, not while there's a war or it will come to some tough decisions for both of us. But this..." she touched the bandages gently, "was just a formality. If he didn't mark me, and I didn't mark him, people would have questioned the legitimacy of our 'very close fight'. They can't know that he let me win." Ridahne gave a soft, wry smile. "It's a clean cut. With proper care, it will heal fast enough." Ridahne took one last gulp of whiskey from the bottle before screwing the cap back on and setting it aside. She picked up her ruined shirt and tossed it in the garbage, then went to the bathroom to wash off her arms and hands. The water swirled pink in the white porcelain sink.

Fishing her gray tank top from her bag and putting it on carefully, Ridahne lowered herself on to the bed in a half reclined position. "Tau'ro ke'ai heluu'ri," she said, not realizing for a moment which language she was speaking, as her mind was still partially stuck in her native language. "Sorry," she clarified, "We should rest. Tomorrow will be a long day. And we will find Rylie." this she said with the utmost certainty as if no one or no thing could argue with her. Fate itself would be hard pressed to defy the look in her eyes. "Tomorrow, when we find out where she is, I will take my gun and show you that my skills in combat are not all in the archaic arts. They'll regret their mistake."

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Mon May 11, 2015 10:18 am

Both men said nothing as the woman snarled and snapped at Gregory. He restrained himself knowing he was too tired and worried to react appropriately. Just as she was injured and lashing out, not because she was angry at him but in reaction.

Mark finished up and then cleaned his hands before straightening up the first aid gear. He was listening but said nothing in response. So she and this man had been more than friends, closer than that. All the little things made sense now and he felt stupid for not having noticed it before. The way she had grabbed the phone or the nerves she had which seemed different than just a meeting. He couldn’t imagine how hard that had been for her. Clearly there were feelings there still. The way she touch the item he had given her. He sighed a little to himself and finished up what he was doing.

There was a brief moment of silence as Ridahne washed up and the men sat, both lost in thought.

When she returned, telling them all to rest, vowing to find Rylie they gave quiet nods in reply and once everyone was settled the lights were turned out.
------------
Morning found Mark up before everyone else. He had worked out, showered and was dressed, looking at maps before the sun was even up. He was quiet, eerily so when he wanted to be but in his line of work his life depended on it.

Gregory woke looking rough and showing dark circles under his eyes. It was clear his sleep had not been deep or peaceful.

They gave each other a nod and after his shower Gregory joined Mark at the map. There were circles over the areas that Gregory had narrowed down as possible research facility locations. What they knew is it was not going to be marked, no signs. This was secret and likely not their government though a contractor with ties to them and with Ridahne’s people.

There would be security, they were sure of it but it too would be subtle though deadly.

Gregory didn’t like this at all. Too many questions, too much unknown and it stunk of backroom deals and conspiracy. He had always thought he was in the know, high clearance afforded a level of information that others only dreamed existed. He was a soldier and they only need follow orders but he had worked hard to afford himself a position that was no longer simply about following, it was about knowing. Yet here he was on the outside of something big, something that spanned off into space and back. How far did this web of incidents spread? How many players were involved and how many innocents would die as a result?

More importantly to him how much damage would they do to Rylie as they sought answers?

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Tue May 12, 2015 3:42 am

Ridahne was quiet that night. For a long time, she posted herself by the one window in the hotel room, leaning her elbows on the sil and gazing out at the city below. She had many thoughts, thankfully kept to herself in the quiet of her own mind, and they ranged from their mission at large, to Rylie, to the man she tortured in a boiler room, and to Ajoran. She didn't quite know what to feel about him. Though he did not want to, he had still aided in the destruction of so many innocent people. At some point, she promised herself, she would go back to the accursed site and pay due respects for the poor souls who were lost that day. Ridahne knew she could not perform proper death rites for everyone, but she wanted to in some way atone for the evil her people wrought. For a while, she debated doing it right then, slipping out after the men slept. But she did not. She kept ruminating on Ajoran and his words to her. Oh, how things would have been different if he would have given her the Ku'o before Iroi. She never would have been here. She would have been home.

Home.

The concept seemed so far away now, like a long faded dream. So did Ajoran. She would not forget the look in his eyes or the tone of his voice as he said that they should not see eachother again. He said they could reconnect once the war was over, once things were different, but now she didn't know if she could believe him. Eventually she would have to tell him all that she'd done. Would he still care for her? She doubted it. The bitter, cold part of her that had been shunned by the world, battered, and bruised, mused that no one could after all she'd done. He would have a better life without her, of that she was certain. She would plod on, as always. Such was her fate.

Ridahne slept hard that night. At a few moments she talked in her sleep, but it was all Azurian and half mumbled, her words devoid of emotion. Contrary to her usual habits, she woke later than anyone else, bleary eyed and with her curly hair askew. She was a little slow that morning, too. The wound across her ribs had crusted over and didn't bleed, but she could feel that it was very close to cracking back open if she stretched too much. Ridahne combed through her hair, tied it in a ponytail let her bloodsoaked clothes from the night before soak in the bathroom sink, and prepared herself for the day ahead. She did carry her knife, as she liked to have it for intimidation, interrogation, and also out of habit. But her pistol was her main weapon and she holstered it close at hand in the same manner that she carried her blades--in the small of her back, held in place by a very worn leather holster. Around her waist was a belt of extra ammunition that hugged her thin frame under her loose shirt.

Ridahne wandered over to where Gregory had the map splayed out, her feet padding as soft as a kitten's paws on the gritty carpeting. She looked it over. "Any thoughts as to which we should hit first? The warrior in me is stirring. A'ae janau kirakh--I want blood. The minute we find them, I will have it." She was dead serious.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Fri May 22, 2015 10:55 am

Gregory exhaled through his nose. “I don’t know to be honest. I feel like the three labeled and known labs are not where they would keep her. Too obvious. Too likely for us to look there and they know we are looking.”

His finger tapped the mapped. “I feel like we should make the attempt though. We know they are watching, our own people and the ones who took her. We can’t let on that we know there are other buildings they might be in.”

Mark stood there staring at the map and said nothing. He looked down face a mask of concentration.

Gregory pointed to one of the circles that had no label. “I want to go there. I did some calling around and pulled some strings to find out they have a lot of power usage for building that is supposed to be empty.”

Mark frowned. “I agree that we need to keep up appearances. We need them to think we are tracing down their leads, the things they are throwing at us. We do need to check out these other two. The trick is how to do both without them knowing.”

He traced the road. “If we distracted at least two of us could get here. Gregory you would make the best decoy since you are the one closest to Rylie. If you are looking out at this one, checking it out because they sent us there, Ridahne and I could slip off to check out this large ‘empty’ building.”

Mark looked up at the pair. “What do you think? If she isn’t at this unmarked one we can regroup and make a plan for the other one.”

Gregory looked unimpressed. “I want to go look at that place. I want to be there when we find her. If she is there and you find her...if she is hurt….”

He slammed his fist on the table and turned away. He couldn’t imagine not being there when they found Rylie. This was incredibly difficult.

Mark inhaled slowly and waited. “Greg, I realize this is hard and you want to be there but they will be keeping tabs on us and we can’t all disappear or they will know. We can’t risk them moving her because they think we are on to them.”

Gregory’s phone rang. He looked at it and frowned. “Hello?”

He walked away from the others. His voice was low and Mark strained to hear. The conversation ended too quickly. Gregory returned to the table. He barely reigned in his snarl. “A weapons deal has gone down. There is a war imminent. And I mean more than it was. They have information, a weapons deal and the president is about to announce that we are going to war.”

He looked at the map angrily. “They had information, only something they could have gotten by using someone like Rylie but on a scale greater than her abilities.”

Mark looked at Gregory and then glanced at Ridahne. “You think they took her to experiment but to use her for this exact reason.”

Gregory nodded. “I think they slowed us down and took advantage of what they had.” He looked ill. “I don’t know what that might have done to her.”

His voice cracked a little. “We need to leave and do this now.”

Mark nodded and gestured to the door. “Let’s move and Ridahne I think you can get your blood.”

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Blackfridayrule on Sat May 23, 2015 1:05 am

"That would make sense." Ridahne nodded, examining the locations on the map. She didn't know the city well, but she had a few points of reference that gave her a vague idea of where they were situated within the city. She hadn't spent much time in the outer fringes of the area, as she tended to reside in places where there was good food and decent company. Surprisingly, she was quite social and jovial when all was well and conversation never turned overtly personal. Ridahne squinted at the map, studying it. For a while, it looked like she was contemplating something, but then as her mouth silently formed the shapes of words, it became clear that her bilingual background did not necessarily extend to written word very well. She was not illiterate, but certainly slow to read english.

"I don't know if this is a strategy you employ here in the Inner Ring much," Ridahne began, half consciously touching her wound to assess the damage and how badly it would hamper her that day, "but in Azurei, we tend to hide things in plain sight. If you can't be impeccably discreet, then you don't try at all. Hadian taught me something about stirring trouble--act like you're doing nothing wrong and everyone will believe you. Works more often than you'd imagine. I wonder if they have her in some very public building, or in some obvious place. They might just have her exactly where we think they don't, if that makes sense. I think Mark is right. One of us has to look into those options anyway. If it's you, that's exactly what they'll expect us to do and they won't think anything's up. Besides, if Mark and I find ourselves in a tight situation and we have to find a way out or even further in, all he has to do is convince them I'm a prisoner of war and he can potentially gain access to other parts of the building we couldn't sneak into."

There was a pause, then Ridahne considered, "Or we could just blow down everyone we meet." A wicked glimmer flickered in her eyes. "But that's not always the best way. Despite our flamboyant faces, Azurei don't prefer brute force most of the time and we tend to side with stealth instead. Infiltration."

She watched carefully as Gregory answered his phone, though she didn't like the look on his face as he spoke. When he hung up and explained what he learned, Ridahne was immediately alarmed. "Where are you getting this information? Who traded the weapons and where are they going? What kind? Explosives?" The last word echoed a deep fear that was uncanny on Ridahne's usual fire. Azurei preferred to be ignorant of the development of the outside world and thus did not like to acknowledge the existence of large bombs. But Ridahne knew better. Ridahne had seen their impact before and she knew that her home was not fortified for such an attack. A well placed explosive in her home country would destroy everything she ever knew and loved in one fell swoop.

Ridahne growled in frustration, snarling at the heavens like fate was constantly against her. "Je!" she hissed, then drew in breath for a much louder roar of "Je!" but she only made the initial 'j' sound before she uttered a stifled gasp and held her ribs. "Aaii...who does this? Why are they wanting to ruin our very culture and livelihood over planetary control or whatever they want from us!" Ridahne hit her fist against the table, frustrated by their situation.

"Let's go," she said stonily. "If we find her and you are not there, you have my word that I will personally take care of her until you arrive." She nodded to him once, her eyes showing how serious she was. "She will be alright. We just have to stick to the plan."

Giving one last check to her ribs, Ridahne took a resolute breath and started for the car. She hurt still, quite badly, but when s she'd gotten ready that morning and changed her bandages, she applied a little bit of the pungent smelling yellow salve that she typically used for tattoos. It was something of a miracle mix and she wished she knew how to make it, because buying it this far away was expensive. She found it incredibly helpful in the healing process and it helped to seal out any kind of bacteria that would cause an infection and make things worse. She would be fine as long as she was easy on it--another reason she opted for her pistol instead of a blade as her weapon of choice.

Outside, Ridahne paused. "We should take separate vehicles. Gregory, take yours. Mark and I will figure something out for ourselves. I know I'll have my com on if you need me, and I'll update you with everything we find out." In a gesture that felt too amiable and intimate for Ridahne, she put a hand on Gregory's shoulder. Her eyes were still hard as stone. "A'o'ir taverri nai Khaldaija--May Khaldaija of the sands guide your steps. She is a spirit who guides those who are lost to safety and good fortune." She did not expect Gregory to believe in this spirit, as few did who had other belief systems. But it was a gesture of good will all the same, and that's what mattered.

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Re: Unrest

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SkullsandSlippers on Sat May 30, 2015 7:29 pm

Gregory shook his head, tightlipped. “They were not forthcoming about what sort of weapons.”

His anger radiated off of him.

Mark looked at the map. His thoughts were clouded behind dark eyes. Neither reacted as Ridahne yelled and let out her frustration. She was doing what neither man could bring themselves to do.

Gregory looked at Ridahne. He knew that she was speaking the truth, that she would take care of Rylie if he was not there to do it. It only helped a little. He couldn’t bring himself to think of her out there and not being there when they found her.

Ridahne was out the door and making for the car. Both men darted out after her.

“Slow down. We don’t have a plan to stick to yet!” Mark called as he chased her.

Once they were out, standing near the car Gregory pulled out the keys. “You...alright.”

He resolved himself that they were splitting up and that he had to take the obvious locations. It ate at him but they were right. He got in and drove away.

Mark looked at Ridahne. “Alright. Shall we hot wire something? Motorcycle or car?” He grinned at her.
*******
Gregory pulled into the parking lot of the first business. They were a medication company. They did research and developed new drugs. They had a lab big enough to hold equipment that it would take to test on Rylie but it wasn’t really their thing. He knew he had been fed them to keep them away from the real culprits.

He parked and stepped out of the car. He was disheartened but not surprised to find people waiting for him. They knew he was coming and they were going to give him the ‘tour’ to show they were on the level.

“Good morning.” Gregory walked towards them.

As expected they introduced themselves, explained they understood he was doing inspections for the military that there was confidential information that he had and certain things he was looking for but they assured him they were not involved in anything illegal or under the table. Certainly nothing that involved the military.

They led Gregory on a tour of the offices, the labs and the manufacturing area. As expected there was nothing there that set off alarm bells. They were clean, they were doing what they were supposed to be doing.

Gregory was angry and annoyed but kept his stern, stoic face.

Hour and a half later he made his way back to the car and sat down heavily. “Nothing at the first. I am off to the second. I hope you guys have better luck.”

The car was started and he drove off to the next location on the list. The tedious task was repeated. A group waited, took him on a tour, assured him they were doing nothing illegal and sent him on his way.

Of course these places were doing nothing illegal! He knew that it wasn’t them he wanted. He wanted the people who had Rylie. He wanted her back and if Ridahne didn’t spill blood Gregory was fairly certain he would.

They were pawns in all this. A conspiracy was playing out around them and they had so little to go on. Not to mention no way to stop it.

“Stop two is nothing as well. You got anything?”

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SkullsandSlippers
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