Stirring the Hornets' Nest
Characters: Lieutenant Patrick Cosgrave (adstring_npc), Mello (codename_m), Allelujah Haptism (alle_halle), Lockon Stratos (meteo_sniper)
When: Tursday, July 16th
Where: Just outside of the Inner City
Rating: PG-13 for violence, may be bumped up to R for the same reason
Summary: Mello is making his move
( This was not going to be a good day for Patrick. )
When: Tursday, July 16th
Where: Just outside of the Inner City
Rating: PG-13 for violence, may be bumped up to R for the same reason
Summary: Mello is making his move
( This was not going to be a good day for Patrick. )
Mello was fully covered in a black military combat suit, a submachine-gun on his back and other smaller weapons secured on his belt. His face was hidden behind a gas mask, just like the ones from his two partners in crime. This sure was going to be a long night.
Before his coma, he'd spent a whole week observing the behaviour of the soldiers watching over the walls which protected the inner city. There was no doubt that they were very well armed, as well as bugged as hell. They tended to stay in groups, but sometimes they took a break to smoke... among other things. What an innocent and fatal mistake.
And just like the previous times, the soldiers seemed oblivious to the pair of predatory eyes fixed on them from the shadows, unseen. Unlike the previous times, however, the menacing shadow watching them was no longer harmless. Gloved fingers kept toying with the tip of a syringe as Mello waited for a certain soldier to step closer to the corner he was hiding behind.
(Come on. Just a bit closer...)
What happened next was too fast. All the soldier could feel was a sudden and sharp pain in his neck as Mello sank the syringe in his flesh from behind. The anesthesia was precise and fast, only taking a few seconds to paralyze its victim-- no time to activate any alarm or to even scream. A hidden smirk was drawn in Mello's features when the man became like a rag doll in his arms, effectively unconscious. After this, Mello gestured for Lockon and Allelujah to come out and help him carry the body elsewhere. He needed to take the man's suit off as soon as possible, but it was too risky to engage in such activities right beside the inner city wall.
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Besides if Mello was going to succeed, it could stop the disappearances. Perhaps too much to hope for, but Lockon still rather do something, even as desperate like this, than keep waiting for another loss.
He secured the unconscious man, grabbing limp body under the arms. If it was necessary he could even drag him in one of the back alleys himself, but he would appreciate if he got help.
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He helped Lockon to carry the unconscious soldier into the choosen back alley, where they couldn't be seen from the inner city.
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Lockon and Allelujah knew the plan perfectly well, so when Mello started removing the man's suit and everything he possessed, he knew that they'd do the same without him having to explain it again. It was convenient to remain silent in the man's presence for now, until they got rid of all the bugs he was carrying. Chances were that anything they said could be heard in the scientists' basement, a stupid risk none of them wanted to take.
Once the man was completely naked and his belongings discarded in a random corner, the terrorists wasted no time to carry him to their basement, which would only be used on this occasion. The building had several floors, their destination was the third one. Their PCDs had been left on the second one, a precaution to ensure that no accidental voice or video posts would give them away.
When the poor man woke up, he found himself in a dirty and dark room, completely naked and tied up to a chair. The windows were fully covered with wood so that no sight of the outside world could be caught, and the room was timidly illuminated by a few candles on the floor. Not like the soldier could see anything, as his eyes had been properly covered with a piece of cloth.
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Patrick's head was spinning, and he had the dinstinct impression that he was naked and tied up, both of which he hadn't been previously. His girlfriend not being here, there were two possibilities : the guys from the patrol were pulling a prank on him and hopin to get away with it, or ... something else. He couldn't really focus long enough to know what that could be.
He blinked in the darkness, bleary eyes trying to adjust to the low luminosity, only to discover that he was blinfolded.
"Guys ? This isn't funny ! I swear if any of you send a picture of it to Eiléan, there's gonna be hell to pay."
His voice was young, mid-twenties, and he was too bewildered right now to be frightened.
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He felt bad for the guy a bit, but well, he was doing his job, and such dangers were written into the contract.
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'Don't pretend you're sorry.'>/i> murmured familiar voice in his thoughts. 'It's ony another game. I can take the lead if you don't like it.'
'Enough.' Allelujah narrowed his eyes, concentrating on ignoring Hallelujah and on their goal right now.
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Firm steps took him right in front of the man, and Mello crouched down slightly.
"Your friends aren't here," he finally spoke, words slurring, his saccharine voice younger than Patrick's. "And I'm sure that you don't want Eiléan to worry much, do you? Don't worry; as long as you cooperate with us, no one will be harmed."
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Reality started to poke at him, pushing away denial. He'd been taken captive by an unknown group and number. Managing a smirk, Patrick started calming his nerves. They'd just taken an ex-IRA mercenary. He knew how these things went.
"Sorry, you don't scare me." Okay, maybe a part of him was scared. He was certainly alone. "And I don't have any reason to talk. You've got me, but you don't have Eiléan. How about you let me go and we can forget this every happened. You're probably Outsiders, right?" There was no telling if more than one was involved, but for his dignity's sake Patrick sure hoped he hadn't been kidnapped by just one kid. "So you don't know what you're messing with. This isn't a game."
And it would be really nice to have pants back on, he didn't add.
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"We just want information," Mello continued. "Information in exchange for your freedom and well being. It doesn't sound too bad, does it?" He kept observing the man as he spoke, his reactions. The drug should be affecting him already, its effects had always been fast.
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He was getting drowsy, things were becoming mirky. "Information..." He shook his head, fighting it. At least he could start now on the safe information. "Lieutenant Patrick Cosgrave. Serial number 4762. Lieutenant Patrick Cosgrave. Serial number 4762." He just needed to keep that up.
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'Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape'
He'd bide his time, hoping to get as much as possible from his interrogators without giving them anything of value. He had no orders to activate his device unless the safety of the Project was directly threatened. Soon enough, the people in the Center would be notified that his chip hadn't been scanned as his group returned from patrol. Thirty more minutes, and the system would declare him MIA, and th chip would start sending an SOS with his coordinates.
'Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape'
He didn't expect anyone to come though. They'd tried rescue operations in the past and those had been disastrous. But with his chip still active, maybe they'd consider another one to be too precious to lose.
'Ah ! Don't kid yourself, Patrick. You're gonna have to get yourself out of it.'
The question cut through the fog that was threatening to enguf him, and he licked his lips slightly.
"First Lieutenant Mvumbi Luthuli. Captain Inesinha Barros."
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Mello actually didn't expect answers to those questions, as he was under the impression that not even the soldiers themselves knew much about what was being cooked inside the scientist's basement. Still, it was worth knowing what exactly the soldier knew, or what he thought he was doing.
In any case, Mello's main goal was to learn about the security system. Obtaining answers on his on was always the best and only way to go.
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They might not still be connected, but there still were guidelines that the group held to. If they abandoned them, abandoned home, they'd be just as low as the Outsiders.
As far as what cause he was serving right now, well, that just seemed obvious. "We just want," his voice faded for a moment, "to get back home." That was the theme of everything, as far as he was concerned. Things had gone south and they couldn't get anything from this world that was worth it. If they could get home, all would be well.
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If the scientists shared the same goal, why hadn't they requested the cooperation of the outsiders instead of alienating them? Lack of trust? Whatever they had been planning inside their basement, it had to be something extremely dangerous to be kept under such a tight secrecy.
"You're doing it very well. A few more questions and we'll be done. Now tell me about the security system, everything you need to be allowed inside your headquarters, and what sort of dangers you could encounter if you weren't identified as a part of the crowd."
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