Adventure! RPG: Heroes of Our Time - episode 3: Killer in the Rain (part 1)

[Alex Craft]

Rhiannon gives Cedric her most winsome smile, somehow producing dimples and warmth from her snowy face. "To be honest, Mister Wing, I cannot say. But in the end, Mister King started this team, and his judgement I trust implicitly. Besides, Americans," she winks at Cedric, "Americans are bold people, I have found. We of the Empire have centuries - eons - of traditions, but the Americans are still writing theirs. But as a historian, I believe this belief of theirs in boldness will become - already is - part of their national identity."

The brunette muses for a moment before continuing. "Not that I would speak for Mister King, of course, but I believe that he wishes to blaze a trail in history. He is a great man, and what great man does not?

"No, I cannot speak for the loss of profits and other economic matters. That is Mister Cornish's job. But history speaks well of those great men whose boldness won them a place in it - and it is my belief that Mister King will be one of them."

[Alex Craft]

Janos looks at Mr. Cornish, scans over the rest of the group then turns back to Cornish.

"Mr. Cornish, Baron Zorbo came here because he was tracking the energy source, not because our group made a mistake. As for suggestions of competance ... well, we were ambushed by a hundred heavily armed men, yet managed to defeat them in the building, storm their ariel transport, and take it over. Make of that what you will."

Turning to the group, he continues,

"Ten years ago, your caution would have been admirable, gentlemen, but just as America slowly eclipses the British Empire, so must business adapt to changing times. Otherwise, you are still building canals while your competitors are building railroads."

"The Great War wrecked half the world's economies, and they are still recovering. That means iron, coal, and steel. Lots of steel. Someone will get that business and grow into those markets. Will it be you gentlemen, or will someone else?"

"Then you have to figure in the unrest in Central and Eastern Europe. You are dealing with new countries and different situations. Red revolution has overtaken Russia. There is social and worker unrest in Europe and China. How do you see these new types of problems being dealt with?"

"I agree that you have the right to be concerned. Very concerned. But, you can't sit back and wish for the good old days. They are gone, swept away in part by the dynamic expansion King Industrial Steel has been through in the past decade."

"Now, King Industrial Steel is an international corporation with new international concerns. Mr. King isn't waiting for these problems to surprise you, he is being proactive. There are going to be new energy sources, new means of production, and new, dangerous threats in going about your business."

"As Mr. Cornish alluded to, you are not in the private army business. You are in the business of running profitable and viable operations. Dealing with private armies, maniacs, and other elements of the Unknown is part of what the team is for."

[Alex Craft]

The small audience around the argument grows as Janos speaks - a loose crowd gathering as passing guests take new interest. The expanded audience murmurs in support of Janos, demonstrating true interest for the first time since Rhiannon and Janos' arrival.

Leslie's cluster of businessmen seems less convinced, but some of the men - particularly among the younger of them - appear to have at least opened back up to Janos' rather boldly put ideas. Still, the majority of them are keeping quiet ... probably out of a desire to placate the increasingly irritated Leslie Cornish. It is unlikely that any of these men are answerable to Leslie, but his position must enable him to determine what regions and departments get the cream of the company resources.

Cedric Wing, however, doesn't seem to be particularly phased, cutting off Leslie before the other man can respond by saying, "Of course, you are right. Inventiveness is quite the virtue, even in the steel industry. We have to wonder, though, if our efforts would be better directed towards traditional business practices than towards the hiring of sharpshooters, detectives, and Lord knows what else. It seems to be, mm, missing the point."

Glancing around, pausing his gaze on Leslie and a few of the more closed-faced members of the old guard, Cedric, adds, "However, I think we all have to admit that you two and your associates have handled reasonably well. You accomplished your first mission well enough, and you really did repel a much larger force in New York. We had our losses from both experiences, but it seems that events fell out as well as could be expected."

"And, as the lady says, my friends, Anthony King hasn't made a major mistake yet. Perhaps this will be his first, but I believe we owe it to him to give the project some time. We should see how matters mature, I believe."

Leslie, irritated by being sidelined, bursts out, "This is ridiculous! Mr. King didn't place any of you for your ability to sit back and 'see how matters mature.' It is your job to comment on company policy. That's why everyone's here, in Baltimore, in the first place!"

"When is it going to be obvious enough, Wing? How much money do we need to lose before being sure? How many people have to die before you'll get over your timidity and say something to Anthony?"

[Alex Craft]

(meanwhile, across town)

Night has fallen over Baltimore, bringing an extra chill to the cool March air. The McKenzie Locksmithy has been closed since before sundown as the rooms above the shop have gradually filled up. The McKenzie family has visitors tonight.

Inside, the small dining room is nearly filled by the table, the chairs, and the people seated there. At the end of the table is Ailsa McKenzie, an aging, but vibrant woman situated where she can bustle in and out of the kitchen without climbing over the guests. To her right and left are her son, Locky, and his father. The elder McKenzie - Ian - is a balding man with grey hair turning to white lingering at the sides of his head and creeping down to meet his full beard. He's getting older, but his eyes are clear and his hands steady - as good at his trade as he's ever been.

To Ian's side is Ross MacLaomainn, a member of the Baltimore police force and a friend of the family. He is seated across from Blaine, and the two visitors have been periodically slipping into shop talk all evening - chiefly in reference to the return to the streets of the infamous Carlos Sappetti.

All in all, it's been a pleasant evening with excellent food, courtesy of Ailsa McKenzie's kitchen. The two guests, both bachelors, are feeling particularly blessed - making their appreciation clear as they help clear away the dishes. Soon, Locky and Blaine have to get moving, since the reception is drawing near, and they still have to meet the others at the bar.

Ross and Ian stand back with their drinks as Locky's mother bids them a lengthy goodbye, telling Locky for far from the first or last time: "I don't know why you've decided to do all of this, I really don't. It's so dangerous! I don't see why you don't just stay home and help your father out. Learn a trade, and it'll be much easier to find a nice girl in a few years. Instead, you're out risking your life fighting flying ships and Lord knows what else. Your father and I are so worried, aren't we, Ian?"

Ian McKenzie nods vaguely, apparently less worried about his son's ability to cope.

[Alex Craft]

Locky blushes a little, and looks down. "Mom! It's not that bad!" Locky looks up at Ailsa. "I'm making some good money, and I know you were worried when Dad didn't need me at the smith-shop about me being out and about on my own! If I get enough money, I'll be able to start a smith-shop of my own, and with a job like that, it'll be easy to get a girl!"

Locky then smiles, putting his best charm into his voice, knowing full well his mother will see right through it. "Besides Mom, Mr. McCallister here's doing a good job protecting me, even if I can still take care of myself. Isn't that right, Mr. McCallister?" Locky says as he pointedly looks towards Blaine.

Blaine smiles to the best of his ability, it's not a skill he seems to have down yet, or maybe he's just been kicked in the mouth too many times.

"That's right Kid. Mr. and Mrs. McKenzie, I seen men in the War with less guts than your son. Maybe too much guts. But he listens real well, and is about the most polite young man I ever met. King took me aside and told me to take special care of Locky and Ms. Rhiannon, not that either of 'em need it. But I keep an eye on the Kid anyway, anyone wants to even give a dirty look they gotta get through my ugly mug. And that ain't easy if you believe even half the stories about me. But I understand your worry. My Ma was real worried when I entered the War, I was as young as Locky here. He's learning though, and he'll get a nice little nest egg for this, and with his looks, he'll get any girl he wants. Needs to get better shoes though." winks Blaine, and gives Locky a friendly pat on the back.

"You got my word though, when he's with me, I'm like his guardian angel." says Blaine, very serious. "He's got lots of gifts, the world's a better place cause of the work he does. I hope that makes you feel a bit better about the risks he's taking."

[Alex Craft]

Blaine takes off his hat and extends his hand to both of Locky's parents. "Thank you very much for dinner, I had a great evening." he extends a hand also to the chief. "Ross, good to see you again. Keep me informed OK?"

"Kid, we got places to be. I need to stop and pick up my shoes and tuxedo, I scuffed these a bit on the way here. You ready to go?"

Locky looks to Blaine, beaming. "Just give me a sec to get my clothes for tonight, OK?"

Locky walks up to his room, and goes towards his meagre wardrobe. The wardrobe has no suits, as Locky is wearing his only one. However, right on the end of the clothes rack, carefully partitioned away from all the other clothes, is a garment bag, containing a smart-looking tuxedo, tailored exactly to Locky's specifications. Underneath, in a shoebox in which Locky still has not taken the tissue paper out, is a set of exquisitely polished, perfectly new shoes.

Locky and Blaine had spent much of today looking through various tailor's stores, trying to find a tuxedo style that Locky could bear to wear. It had taken going to a very small, hole-in-the-wall tailor's shop to find a tailor who had a few more... unconventional styles to find a jacket that Locky liked.

Locky had ended up choosing a tuxedo that, the tailor had assured him, would look suitably ahead of it's time. A black single-breasted piece with a notched lapel of flaming red, it had not been a popular piece in the last few years, but the tailor had heard rumours from New York and Paris that colour was likely to come back into formal wear quite soon, and that the red lapels would give Locky just enough colour to make him look "avante-garde". After finding out what that meant from the tailor, Locky couldn't help but agree that the tuxedo would definitely stand out.

After that, it was merely a matter of getting a new pair of shoes, and for that, Blaine insisted on Locky going to his own cobbler to get a decently-sized pair of shoes that went with the new tux. There wasn't enough time to get a perfectly custom-made pair, but Blaine had insisted that Locky order a pair for later on.

Locky grabbed the garment bag and the shoebox and ran downstairs. "OK Mr. McCallister, I'm ready to go. See you tomorrow Mom and Dad! Bye Mr. MacLaomainn!"

Blaine semi-grins again as Locky hurries out the door.

"Once again, Mr. and Mrs. McKenzie it's been a pleasure, thank you for dinner." says Blaine as he exits himself and puts his hat on heading for the car.

[Alex Craft]

Blaine looks up and down the street as he does leaves, keeping an eye out for any potential trouble, and then opens the car door. Locky is already inside arranging his clothes in the back seat. Blaine grinds the engine to life and checks the street one last time before easing into traffic.

"Hey kid. Reach into the glove compartment will ya? I left my gun in there, didn't want to bring it into your parents' house. We'll hit my office real quick and can change there and then head for the bar. Sound good?"

"Sounds like an idea. You got some sort of closet or something? I'm a little shy with that sort of thing." Locky says in slightly bashful voice.

Locky then quickly pops the latch to the glove compartment, and gingerly hands the gun over to the driving Blaine.

"Thanks for not bringing it in Blaine," Locky replies, "My parents got really angry once when Mr. MacLaomainn brought his gun into dinner. I think my Mom must have had a real bad experience with guns once, because Mom nearly frogmarched him out the door! Not that I'd ever ask her about it, of course. I don't wanna be frogmarched out the door, especially if it'd involve hurting my mom!"

[Alex Craft]

Blaine takes the gun and handles it with practiced ease. "Here, hold the wheel a second." he says as he suddenly let's go to check the load on the gun and the safety before holstering it. Locky meanwhile gulps loudly and grabs the wheel before it can start turning them into a tree or another car. "Thanks kid." says Blaine taking the wheel again.

"Yeah, ya' got nice folks, and I didn't wanna make no waves. At my house we had a rule, no guns at the table. Course that meant they got left on the counter with the apple sauce!" laughs Blaine and gives Locky a nudge with his elbow. Was that a joke? From Blaine?

"Yeah at my office I got a bathroom you can change there if you want. I want to call the chief and a snitch I know real quick also, see if there's any word on Crazy 8. When we get to the office, stay behind me til I give you the all clear OK?"

[Alex Craft]

Pulling out of sparse traffic, Blaine parks the small sedan on the curb in front of his office's building. The building is a narrow stone building - five stories squeezed into the streetscape. The masonry is darkened by age, though the trim and the small door show signs of being recently refurbished.

Having gotten out of the car, Blaine and Locky approach and enter, stepping into a small lobby. The window to the building office is closed for the night, the opening covered by a pulled down screen of wire mesh. A bank of mailboxes fills the rest of the wall, and Blaine unlocks his box in passing - finding nothing inside.

Crossing the lobby, Blaine and Locky ascend the creaking staircase to the second floor and step out into the second floor hallway. The floor creaks loundly, telling the age of the building, but here too some attempts have been made at refurbishment: carpet and wallpaper have been put up in the last year or so. Blaine's office is down the hall, behind a door with the legend 'BLAINE MACALLISTER, P.I.' engraved into the frosted glass.

Movement happens in a doorway a little way down the hallway. Blaine, on edge since he got back to Baltimore, swings around to see faint light gleaming on the muzzle of a gun.

The man who holds the gun is very big and broad. A shapeless felt hat sitting back on his head, and a grimy overcoat does a poor job of concealing his paunch. Dim light from the hall's infrequent bulbs makes to highlight bushy eyebrows and a hooked nose. Blaine stands in the open hallway, and Locky is out of sight a few steps down the stairs.

The man says, sharply, "Back it up, shamus. This is a gun. Want to try it?"

[Alex Craft]

Locky is about to walk up to the next step, his weight committed, when Locky hears the deep baritone of the fat man's voice.

Locky immediately halts, working to balance his body out to stop him falling before his feet (or everything in his hands!) cause the boards to squeak again. A split-second earlier and Locky wouldn't need to go through all this trouble!

Blaine stops dead in his tracks and pulls his hands out of his pockets slowly. It looks like the man might not have seen Locky yet so he signals as discreetly as possible to Locky behind him to stay put.

"Alright pug. You got my attention. Most people just leave a message under the door if I ain't in." he adjusts the brim of his hat making sure that the man can see the steel in Blaine's eyes clearly. "So what's your problem? What do ya' need? Make it quick too, I got places to be and you look like you'd make a lousy date." He takes another step forward while talking.

[Alex Craft]

Locky quickly regains his balance, making easy use of skills won from years of recreational breaking and entering. Freezing and breathing shallowly, he sees Blaine stepping partially out of sight around the corner formed by the stairwell and the adjoining hall.

The gun wavers momentarily when Blaine looks the man in the eye. The man's voice seems a shade less tough when he responds, saying, "Hey. I said back it up. And you might be canceling, tonight. Seems some friends of yours want ta have a little talk with you. Maybe we go for a little ride, yeah?"

[Alex Craft]

Locky, in abject silence, stays behind the corner, listening to the conversation as Blaine makes a grim smile as he sees the man's nervousness.

"Nervous? Yeah, I was scared the first time I tried holdin' a gun on someone. Course I was 14 at the time. But I'm tellin' ya, you're doing it all wrong. Where's your backup? You haven't even told me to lose my gun..." Blaine opens up his jacket revealing the semi-automatic holstered there. He takes another step forward. "See? It's tough ain't it? 'Cause now, I know you need to get me somewhere, your boss needs to talk to me right? How happy is he gonna be if you plug me before he gets that chance?" Blaine takes another step, keeping his eyes on the thug.

"Didn't think this through too much did'ja? Didn't they tell you who I am? Can't ya' read the name on the door? I'm Blaine McCallister. The last time I got taken for a ride, I busted the ass of the punk doin' it. And he had loads of back up! What do you got?" Blaine takes one more step. "You got a gun ya ain't gonna use, and instructions you're too scared to follow. Tell ya' what. You tell me your boss's name, and I'll go and see him at a time a bit more convenient for me. Like I said I got places to be and I ain't cancellin'. Your other option...no forget that, you don't want that option. You're ugly enough as it is." Blaine takes a final step forward.

[Alex Craft]

The man in the coat barks out in sudden frustration, "Hell with you!"

At the same time, he lashes out unexpectedly with his gun in hand. The but connects hard with Blaine's jaw, leaving a sharp pain turning to dull ache. Staggered for a moment, Blaine take a half step back and shakes the sudden fog from his head.

Locky sees Blaine stagger back into full view shaking his head. Then, looking up, the older man responds in a burst of concentrated ferocity. Lunging forward (and now entirely out of sight), Blaine makes an amazingly fast right hook, connecting squarely with the other man's chin. The man's grimy coat flutters as he reels backward, trying to bring his gun back to bear. He is preempted when Blaine grabs his gun hand at the wrist, easily leveraging the gun away as he follows up with another solid punch to his attacker's gut.

The man folds over, and Blaine steps away for the moment. Blaine has both guns now, and the other man staggers back a step, struggling to regain his breath.

Blaine shakes his head a moment then rubs his jaw with his left hand. Nothing seems broken and he opens his mouth and shifts his jaw around a bit experimentally. When he's satisfied that he still has all his teeth he turns back to the man on the ground with an angry glare.

"Turn over." he growls. "On your stomach, like a worm! Now! Put your face to the wall!" he shouts at the man, planting a foot on the back of his neck. "You move and the last thing you see will be your own brains spraying the rug!" He gestures to Locky to come up fast, and then holds a finger to his lips indicating he should be quiet. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys to hand to Locky, and holds his hand to his head, his pinky to his mouth, his thumb by his ear, like a phone, and mouths the words 'Call the police, and get changed.'

"Now then pug. Who sent you? Who sent you! Was it 8-Ball? I can think of two dozen places to hide a body and still make it to my date on time! You better gimme a name you mook!" he shouts, making sure that the thug can't see Locky as he passes him in the hall.

Despite being pressed into the floor by most of Blaine's weight, the man still works up enough grit to reply in a choked voice, "I don't know! Couple of guys, knew the ropes."

[Alex Craft]

Locky quickly absorbs Blaine's instructions, silently grabs the keys, then, trying his utmost to avoid making the floor squeak, steals into the office.

Locky heads towards the desk at the end, plonking his good duds on the table as he grabs the receiver. Locky puts the receiver to his ear, saying quietly to the operator "Can I please call the police station? I have a crime I wish to report..."

Locky trails off, realizing that the line is dead. A lazy voice comes out of the dark, saying, "I bet he does. Wha'd'ya say, Irish? Breaking and entering? Or maybe just vandalism or somethin' - y'know, for the phone line."

A lamp flicks on as another voice, deep and resonant, rumbles out, "I think it's assault, Luca. With the flattie."

The second voice belongs to a large, broad-faced man standing in the corner by the door, and the first must belong to the other man in the room - a thin Italian with an intense, predatory look that is somewhat belied by his loose, elliptical speaking. Both are wearing black wool overcoats on top of well cut business suits - charcoal grey for the larger man and a pale peach for the Italian. Likewise, both are carrying large, blocky pistols with silencers screwed onto the ends.

The Italian turns his sharp eyes on Locky and says, "Yeah. There was that, wasn't there? Hey, kid. My name's Luca, and the big guy's Cassidy. You don't want to mess us over. Big guy's faster than he looks, and I'm a fucking surgeon with this [brandishes pistol]. Now, yeah - I don't like to kill kids less I have to, but a job's a job, and ya've gotta have a work ethic. That's important, it is."

"So, how's about you stand right there and not move too much, right? And while you're doing that, how's about you give a quick shout to your friend out there and have him come in nice and easy. Figure you can do that for us, kid?"

"Well, I'd like to Mr. Luca," Locky begins quietly, thinking frantically and attempting to stall, "but the nice and easy bit's gonna be a bit difficult. He doesn't want your guy out there to know I'm here. Saying anything's probably gonna look suspicious. And looking at you guys, you probably know that Mr. McCallister's gonna bring his guard right up if I do anything suspicious. Got any suggestions?"

Locky mentally prays for Blaine to walk through the door while he's keeping the other two occupied...

[Alex Craft]

"Aw, kid. I asked you not jerk me around. I swear, this is what I get for being so personable. Now, I ain't too anxious about Mr. MaCallister's guard, kid - so you get him in here or I'll just have to shoot you and let that get his attention, capiche?"

He pauses, then adds, "And it's just Luca, kid."

* * *

In the hall, Blaine is getting fed up with his victim. The man seems to honestly know next to nothing, and he has now basically just clammed up.

From what he said before that, it seems that he was hired for this by a pair of men - probably gangsters. At least one of them was Italian, but he has no names and doesn't know anything about the motivation. It sounds like he isn't even from Baltimore, though he shut up before dropping any more details on that matter.

Blaine takes a moment to glance back at his office door. Locky closed the door behind himself, which was good, but it looks like the light is on - clearly advertising that someone is in the room. With that, Blaine realizes that there is a low murmur of voices coming from the room, and it doesn't sound like it's just Locky talking.

[Alex Craft]

Blaine's left eye begins to twitch and his scowl reaches new lows. He pulls out his other gun for one in each hand. He then leans in real close to the pug so his hot breath burns his ear.

"Get up you piece of shit." he whispers dangerously. "We're gonna see your boss right now. You say a word, I'll shoot you in the knee. Worst kind of pain you can think of. Up. Now."

He drags the thug up both guns leveled at him. "In front of the door, face it. Go." he whispers. Once the thug is facing the door he cocks both guns.

"Alright you dego sumbitches! You want a piece a me, you got it! Here I come!" he shouts and then he kicks the thug through the door as hard as he can and fires both guns high into the room, over the thug's head.

As Luca and Cassidy suddenly turn as Blaine kicks down the door, Locky looks himself quickly. It occurs to Locky that now would be an excellent time to move!

Locky looks around, seeing that the desk is currently the best cover around, Locky takes several steps, then takes an impressive leap over the desk, feet barely touching the floor before Locky pushes just enough to move right underneath the desk.

As Locky comes to rest, he hopes that Blaine's desk is solid enough to stop bullets...

[Alex Craft]

The nameless thug lets out a choked wheeze as he hits the door hard enough to pop the latch. He tumbles bonelessly into the room as the door slams open and slaps against the neighboring wall.

Taking a step into the room, Blaine sees Luca - a thin, lanky Italian man - rise out of the opposite right corner of the room, where he had been sitting in one of Blaine's client chairs. Luca reacted to Blaine's entrance without a blink, rising from the chair and leveling his gun in one fast, fluid motion. Blaine finds himself staring down the length of Luca's professional-quality silencer even before dropping his aim to target the other man.

It takes Blaine a moment to spot the other man, Cassidy, who is standing in the near right corner of the room about a meter and a half away from the door. However, the larger man (while by no means slow) does not possess Luca's almost supernatural speed and is still bringing his weapon to bear when Luca barks out, "Cass! Spot the kid for me, ok?"

Locky takes advantage of that moment of zero supervision to dive for the desk. With fairly characteristic speed and grace, vaults over and rolls back into the relative safety of the alcove of the desk. Cassidy, unable to see Locky from his location, covers the desk - apparently primarily concerned with insuring that Locky does not leave cover to interfere with Luca's aim.

Both Luca and Cassidy have struck clearly professional stances, presenting their profiles to Blaine and planting themselves for rock steady aims. Seconds after Blaine's entrance, the room is temporarily frozen into a tableau, with Luca being the only person in the room with a weapon aimed at a firm target. Sighting down the barrel of his pistol and silencer, Luca adds to his instructions to Cassidy, telling Blaine, "Nice entrance."

[Alex Craft]

Blaine spares the slightest glance at the mook called Cass, a gun pointed at each of them.

"Cass, you know what's good for you, you'll keep that gun on me. The second I see it point somewhere else I plant one between your eyes.

"And you." Blaine indicates Luca. "You owe me a new door. Now, as I was explaining to this shit head here, I got places to be, and I ain't gonna be late. That means I'll either kill all a' you, or you tell me what you need fast and get the Hell out. What's on your mind? Who sent you, 8-Ball?"

Luca smiles broadly at Blaine as a certain predatory gleam enters his eye, seemingly at odds with his projected attitude. Raising his eyebrows in mock confusion, he conversationally replies, "As I recall, you're the wise guy who put our friend there through the door. We just, ah, engaged in a little harmless b and e. Can't say I much felt like waiting out in the hall for Lord knows how long, know whatta mean? Never been good at stakeouts."

Cassidy, to Blaine's right, rumbles out (without sparing Blaine a glance): "Oughta be more patient, Luca."

Unwavering in his aim, Luca chuckles, saying, "Yeah, yeah. Maybe that's something to cultivate in my old age. Anyways, I'm thinking you might be wanting to stand down, my man. It is really nice to see that your rep isn't exaggerated - I hate when that happens. Waste of my time, right? But if we stand here much longer, I might get anxious and just go and take my shot, y'know? I had a couple expressos just 'for I came here, and I don't handle caffeine very well - ain't that right, Cassidy?"

Cassidy has remained impassive through his partner's rambling, and now informs Blaine: "God's truth. He's been jumpy all afternoon. I keep tellin' him ..."

Cassidy shakes his head sorrowfully - though not enough to break his coverage of the desk - as Luca picks up again, adding, "Yeah, he does. Y'd think we were married, way he nags. But, more to the point, we ain't here to kill you. If we were, I would've shot you soon as you kicked in the door, rather than waiting around for you to point guns at me'n my partner."

"See, as our friend on the floor may have mentioned ... by the way, you might want to stop manhandling him. He's a flattie, and I understand those D.C. cops have a miserable sense a humor when it comes to people abusin' their own. As he may have mentioned, someone wants to talk things over with you. Mr. Sapetti will not be involved - you two will have to renew your relationship some other time."

"Actually, we are being employed by a Mr. Angelo Cimino, who seems to believe that you might not be receptive to a polite conversation with him. We're here to insure that you make that meeting. Of course, if you don't want to cooperate, our employer could get a good bit of milage out of handing your body over to Sapetti. So your popularity right now don't change a thing, understand?"

[Alex Craft]

Locky, underneath the desk, begins to quickly check the drawers. Finding them locked, he expertly unlocks the top drawer, and quietly slides it out, bringing it underneath the desk with him.

Sorting through the various objects inside (including what's obviously Blaine's spare gun), Locky finds a roll of quarters.

Locky suddenly gets a bright idea, and starts unwrapping them.

Blaine smiles, but it doesn't seem like a good sign.

"You got things all back to front, and I don't care if you got caffeine issues. The door you owe me, I could give a shit if this mook's a cop, I'd get a medal for capping a cop on the take. He broke my door, you and your idiot friend here hired him. You can leave the cash or I can roll your body. You waited by the door you'dve avoided that."

"Now for this talk with your boss. Heh. Anegelo. That punk? He either had too much brains or not enough balls to be there when I busted Crazy 8 when he tried taking me for a ride. He can wait like everyone else. My time's valuable and he didn't make an appointment, even if he did hire a couple of trained monkeys with guns outa' Chicago. I don't deal with criminals but one way, my way. And that's usually with bullets and fists. If Angelo was a real man, he'd be here to speak my language."

"Now, we're going to have a real situation here if you two don't put up your guns and take your flunky here and dangle. A real situation in 5...4..." Blaine cocks both guns on '5'.

As Locky hears the countdown, he gets ready.

He grabs four quarters from the roll, and places them into his hand. Locky finishes contorting himself so that he can see through the gap between the desk and the floor. He grabs his quarters into his throwing hand, and works to quietly push said hand through the gap.

[Alex Craft]

"... 5 ..."

A sudden grin spreads across Luca's face, his feet shifting slightly as he comments, "Well, this is fun, too."

"... 4 ..."

Cassidy stands firm, and Luca sighs, then adds reluctantly, "Guess I should mention ... Mr. Cimino wants ta tell you where 8 Ball is."

"... 3 ..."

Blaine stops counting down after '3' but keeps his guns up and his scowl on.

"See? That wasn't so tough, was it? That's all you needed to say. Didn't need to break in, didn't need to hire this yutz here, didn't need to make with all the tough talk. Your pissant boss knows where 8 Ball is, and probably wants me to take him out of the picture so he can keep his dogshit empire. Was all this bullshit necessary?"

"OK mooks. Here's how it works. Your boss wants to talk to me, I'll call Chin's Laundromat, I know he's got people there. I'll give a time and a place. It'll be public, it'll be during daylight, and there won't be much advance warning. He can drop the info off with me there or meet me there himself if he's got the balls. Tonight? Not happening. You two and your boss will only have this idiot for your dance card. Is that clear? You can charge the door to your boss. Now get this shit off my rug." he says indicating the cowering man on the ground.

"And if I see you two or Angelo before that time, you better come with empty hands and open jackets, and it better be light out. Otherwise I'll just start shooting and call it self-defense. And I even think that you or Angelo got intentions on the Kid here or his family, I'm gonna make the Devil cry for what I do to you. There ain't nowhere you'll be safe, you seen what I did to 8-Ball, you'll wish you had it so easy. Am I clear?" the edge in Blaine's voice is razor sharp, and his eyes are hard as steel.

[Alex Craft]

"Tch."

Luca drops his gun arm, though he's still tense as a coiled spring. He still has a confrontational gleam in his eye, but Cassidy interrupts, quietly saying, "Leave it, Luca. The old man can wait a little while."

Luca glances at Cassidy in irritation, seeing that his partner is already unscrewing his silencer and slipping the gun under his coat. Turning his attention back to Blaine, he begins to do the same, saying, "Yeah, ok - whatever. Let's blow this place, Irish."

Walking over to the desk, he smiles thinly at Locky as he picks up a fedora carefully hung from the corner. He puts it on and walks over to the door, standing just in front of Blaine as Cassidy bodily lifts the hired gun off of the floor and edges out the door. A meaty thump is heard as Cassidy dumps his load somewhere just out of sight, then steps back to the door way - waiting.

Locking his eyes on Blaine's from just a couple of feet away, Luca says with studied indifference, "Better not wait too long, wise guy. Bodies are already hitting the floor. Wait too long ... some of them might be people you know."

Smiling beautifully at Blaine, Luca goes on: "Not a threat. Maybe call it a free sample. Have a nice evening."

Luca sidesteps around Blaine, grabs the edge of the door, and adds, "And shamus? Maybe another time, eh?" before stepping out and pulling the door shut behind him. The door no longer latches, just hanging loosely as footsteps recede down the hallway.

[Alex Craft]

Blaine doesn't put the guns down until all three have left the room. Once he does he calmly walks over to the desk and puts the revolver he took from the man onto the desk, and then with a slight fumble he puts his own gun back into its holster.

Locky stands up from underneath the desk, opening his hand of quarters and saying to Blaine "Well, guess I won't be needing these then. Would've been the best 50 cents I'd ever spent..."

Locky grabs the coins and the rest of the roll of quarters, and throws them back into the drawer, and starts sliding it back in.

"You know, you should get better locks for your desk, I mean, you keep guns in here, and this lock's light enough that a well aimed butterknife could let you in..."

Blaine hears Locky but doesn't say anything yet, and begins to take off his hat and jacket.

"Go get changed Kid, we got places to be." he finally says, his voice ragged. When Locky grabs his outfit and shoes and heads to the adjoining bathroom, Blaine walks over to a chair and practically falls into it. He holds his head in his hands for a few moments and just takes a few deep shuddering breaths, and begins to mutter quietly.

"Lord take the rod and the sword from my hands, but in your name I shall wield them with all of my heart. The Blood of Christ washes away my sins, Amen.". After a few more repetitions and deep breaths he looks at the clock.

"Crap." he says and takes off his shirt, revealing his rough and muscled and heavily scarred body, and heads toward his coat rack where his tuxedo is hanging.

[Alex Craft]

As Locky changes, he lets out a sigh of relief. Thank god that didn't flare up worse than it did.

Locky opens the box, and grabs the new tuxedo out, and puts the jacket on first. As he puts it on, Locky realises that he's shaking quite badly.

No, I don't want this, not now, not while Blaine's outside the door!

Locky takes a few deep breaths. When that doesn't work, he starts on a relaxation technique that an arial acrobat had once taught Locky. Arial Acrobats so often have close calls, the boy had explained, and the show has to go on, even if your nerves have gotten the better of you.

And so, what the acrobat had told Locky to do, if ever he needed to overcome his nerves, was to focus on the most calming moment of your life, ever. Then, while breathing deeply, stretch every muscle in your body, then relax them, all in turn.

Pete had explained that the stretching didn't really do much other than stop you focusing on anything else, but it was important nonetheless.

As Locky started stretching from his feet to his legs, he felt himself calming down, and he felt the shakes lessen. As he put on the shirt and jacket, stretching his arms in the process, Locky felt calm enough to face Blaine again.

Although first, Locky would need to put some trousers on...

[Alex Craft]

Blaine and Locky sort themselves out and rejoin each other in Blaine's office. The hall outside and the street that the building face both show no signs of watchers or ambushers, and the two reach Blaine's car without incident. The drive is likewise easy - a twenty minute journey through light traffic to the bar where they are to meet the Jameson and John along with the new recruit.

Blaine and Locky step under a sign declaring the place to be "Kuntz's" and into a dim, low-ceilinged room. The bar is only a couple few meters from the door, with most of the space in the long room off to the sides of our heroes. The previous evening, Kate had mentioned to Locky and Jameson that this place is a hangout for K.I.S. employees (at least, the ones on the administrative side) and recommended it as a place to meet.

Unexpectedly, the lady in question is here along with the other team members - the four of them turning away from their seats at the bar to check on the opening door. Except for Kate, the team, and the bartender, the bar is entirely empty. The normal patrons must be mostly off at the reception.

John, Brigitte, Jameson, and Kate have been here for about half an hour, and - while there is still a little time before the group has to leave for the reception - they were beginning to worry, wondering if there was a connection between the Blaine and the shooting in the hotel after all.

Each of the four have been casually drinking (to a greater or lesser extent), and Jameson, at least, has a mild buzz on. Kate insisted that he try a specialty of the house with her, a mixed drink that tastes vaguely like tequila but has a kick like an equal measure of turpentine. Good thing he's built up a solid resistance to alcohol, or he'd be feeling it a lot more than he is. As is, he is in perfect control of himself - just like his date, a woman with much less body mass to work with.

[Alex Craft]

Jameson is in the middle of telling the story of the air raid on 1 KIS Plaza to Brigitte with the help of John and Kate when Blaine and Locky enter the bar. Being more jovial than normal, as is the norm when drinking, Jameson takes it upon himself to introduce them to Brigitte. He takes care of ordering a fresh round of drinks for all involved, including Locky if he so desires.

After a little while Jameson brings up the events at the hotel, "Blaine I think you should hear this. We had some trouble at the hotel which is, at least tangentially, related to you."

Jameson quickly covers the events and the basic facts that they gathered from the hotel scenes. He then produces from a pocket the bullet casing he found in the lobby. "I got enough of a look his the guy's gun to know it's not a make that I've seen before, and you can imagine my surprise at that. I was figuring you may be interested in taking a look at it ..."

[Alex Craft]

Blaine listens to Bradford's explanation, with occasional chime-ins from the other guests. His scowl only deepens as he hears the details. he growls in frustration when they finish.

"I need a drink!" and heads over to the bar. "Scotch, no ice." He gets the drink and downs it like a shot and nods his head for another, but doesn't pick it up yet.

"Lucas Falcony, 'Lucky'. One last reason why his nickname never matched. He was one of 8-Ball's goons. Helped take me for a ride the night I busted 8-Ball. He got popped and he was in the room right next to you at the hotel? What the Hell was that cheap hood doin' there? Probably watchin' you, lookin' for me. Ain't no secret I'm with King now, probably lookin' for others with him. You said you had a shell casing?" while Bradford digs out the casing, Blaine finally seems to see Brigitte. He takes off his hat and extends his hand.

"Sorry about that. Blaine, Blaine MacAllister." he looks down at her shoes. "Those are some nice heels, French right?"

"Locky and me had a problem or two back at my place. A gangwar is brewin'. 8-Ball's out and his old lieutenant Angleo don't wanna give up his spot in the throne. He's hired two guns out of Chicago, Luca and Cassidy, to deliver a message to me. Might be others also. What time did that thing happen at the hotel? Our little dance happened just twenty minutes ago." Blaine picks up his drink and takes a sip.

[Alex Craft]

Locky merely asks for a glass of water, as he sits down at the table. When Blaine introduces himself, Locky uses the opportunity to follows suit.

"Hello Miss, I'm Locky McKenzie, pleased to meet you."

[Alex Craft]

John sits with the group; placing himself at the edge of his companions, John quietly drinks gin and tonic, perhaps a bit more than he should be drinking. He tries his best to keep up his emotionless expressions, however, his amusement at his companions forces his dark frown into a strange smirking grimace as he tries his best to keep his moody appearance going.

[Alex Craft]

The conversation has died down a bit as everybody seems a little pre-occupied by the various events of the evening thus far. Jameson finishes a glass of Irish whiskey and checks his pocket watch.

Clearing his throat to get everyone's attention Jameson speaks up, "Ladies and gents I think by my watch that we should be going. By the time that we get to Anthony's the majority of guests should be there and I suspect that with that crowd we would do well to inject some lively hood into the party."

Jameson winks to the group as he finishes, he's definitely at least a little inebriated and is unlikely to be very reserved during the party.

[Alex Craft]

Blaine nods as he's still examining the shell and then puts it into his pocket. He straightens his bow tie with a grunt. "Freakin' monkey suit." he grumbles and throws back the second glass of scotch without comment.

"Yeah, let's get this circus goin'." he grumbles as he stands up.

[Alex Craft]

"I'm ready when everyone else is," Locky pipes up as he gets up out of the booth

[Alex Craft]

Brigitte offers her hand to Blaine in return along with a soft smile. Though her hands do not compare to Blaine’s, he can easily notice that they have seen more than their share of labour and very few manicures. With her somewhat heavy French accent she then introduces herself in return.

“Brigitte Lefevre.” She then notes Blaine’s gaze on her heels. She extends a shapely leg and models the heel for a moment. “Why yes. They are the latest from Paris.” A thoughtful look crosses her face and she then adds, “… I think.”

Brigitte turns to Locky when he introduces himself. Her brow furrows slightly for a moment with a somewhat joking/annoyed smirk. “Miss?” she asks. She then shakes her head and says, “It’s just Brigitte. Brigitte Lefevre.” She smiles at the introduction, giving Locky a playful tap with her elbow.

---------------------

Clearing his throat to get everyone's attention Jameson speaks up, "Ladies and gents I think by my watch that we should be going. By the time that we get to Anthony's the majority of guests should be there and I suspect that with that crowd we would do well to inject some lively hood into the party."

Brigitte says, “That sounds like a wonderful idea.” She picks up her feathered skullcap and adds, “My automobile still has room for a couple more.”

[Alex Craft]

John stands from his chair, after another sip of gin and tonic. Gathering his things, he turns to his compatriots, letting a friendly smile escape the corner of his lips.

"Indeed, let us be off, then."

[Alex Craft]

Jameson helps Kate with her coat and then shrugs into his own with minimal difficulty. "Shall we be off my dear?" he asks as he offers his arm to her.

[Alex Craft]

The group gathered at Kuntz's gets their things together and settles the tab before heading out to their three cars. Dividing up among the vehicles as they had arrived, they set off on a fairly peaceful drive past the outskirts of town and to the King family mansion.

The mansion is quite large - at least a couple centuries of renovation causing the original building (fairly big in and of itself) to gradually creep outward in a surprisingly aesthetic tangle of varying architectural styles. The grounds spread much further, forming one of the largest privately owned acreages in the Baltimore/Washington area.

This land is immaculately landscaped in a semi-Romantic style of naturalistic stands of trees and shrubs nesting King's omnipresent rose gardens (roses are reportedly a hobby of King's). The drive winds through the grounds to the mansion proper, and Jameson, Brigitte, and Blaine pull their cars up at the turnabout in front of the house. Servants offer to park the vehicles, and the six travelers head on in.

They are greeted at the door, but the servant there has no idea of where to direct them, so they begin to wander through the mansion. The reception is in full swing now, and the rooms and halls are fairly well filled with people - some are local and national political figures, some are important K.I.S. managers from around the world, and some are just local employees out for a party.

Before long, they hear a familiar voice - Anthony King, getting their attention, saying, "Ladies and gentlemen."

King approaches from a small cluster of people on the other side of the study the group is passing through. He is quite closely escorting a young beauty in a dress that probably could have paid for a fairly nice car, and introduces her as he closes with the group:

"This, my dear, is most of the rest of that field team you've doubtless been hearing so much about. And, of course, Ms. Katherine Schafer, our resident genius. Ladies, gentlemen - this is Maria Langley, of the New York Langley family. I'm sure it's a pleasure."

This last is said with a slight, wry irony that might well be missed as he continues smoothly, saying, "I hope you are enjoying the reception, but I suggest that you join Rhiannon and Janos in the ballroom. I understand that they are discussing company politics with a number of gentlemen you ought to meet - you may need to deal with them should the team's future business take you into their spheres of influence."

Urging them to find drinks, King and Miss Langley turn back to the group they had stepped away from, but King looks back for a moment and adding, "When you see Rhiannon, tell her to check in with me. I need her to assist me with some business."

It isn't terribly difficult to find the ballroom, and our heroes walk in to find an interesting tableau: the entire room's attention drawn toward a group in the center consisting of Rhiannon, Janos, Leslie Cornish, and a number of unfamiliar businessmen. One of the businessmen is saying something about letting 'matters mature' when Leslie (who is visibly agitated) bursts out, saying:

"This is ridiculous! Mr. King didn't place any of you for your ability to sit back and 'see how matters mature.' It is your job to comment on company policy. That's why everyone's here, in Baltimore, in the first place!"

"When is it going to be obvious enough, Wing? How much money do we need to lose before being sure? How many people have to die before you'll get over your timidity and say something to Anthony?"

Rhiannon's jaw tenses subtly as Leslie speaks, but for once the Englishwoman remains silent, apparently letting Janos take the lead. None of the involved parties appear to have noticed the arrival of the rest of the team.

[Count Janos Rakozi]

"Calm yourself, Mr. Cornish," Janos says coolly.

"Is it anyone's place to rush to judgement?"

"In the end, it is Mr. King's decision to make, and he has thoughtfully invited his key business associates to this meeting for a variety of opinions and advice to be layed out before him. He is a very keen man, that way."

"Don't you think forming a concesus before the meeting defeats the purpose of having a meeting in the first place?"

"The gentlemen here have all earned the right and respect to have their voices heard, but Anthony is also owed the respect to hear all the voices."

[Andrew Murphy]

"Calm yourself, Mr. Cornish," Janos says coolly.

"Is it anyone's place to rush to judgement?"

As Jameson and the others in the group approach the small circle the ballroom crowd parts to make way for them. Even with the little that they have heard it's obvious there's a heated discussion going on and it appears to be primarily between Cornish and Janos & Rhiannon.

A scowl crosses Jameson's face when he sees that Cornish is involved. Jameson leans close to Kate and whispers, "Bankers and accountants, I just can't trust somebody who's life revolves around money so thoroughly."

Jameson does his best to lead the others in coming in behind Janos an Rhiannon. In part he wishes to not interrupt Janos with his approach and in part to show that the group backs Janos and Rhiannon completely, though there is likely little doubt of that as most of the group has few contacts within K.I.S. itself anyway.

"The gentlemen here have all earned the right and respect to have their voices heard, but Anthony is also owed the respect to hear all the voices."

Jameson waits for Janos to finish before interrupting. As he waits he lays a hand on Rhiannon's shoulder to get her attention.

[Rhiannon Lewis]

Rhiannon freezes subtly as a hand touches her shoulder, then slowly turns. "Yes, Mister Bradford?" she asks softly, green eyes still watching Cornish.

[Dr. Mystery]

John follows along with the others, notably staying, however, out of any conversations involving business of any sort. After a short period viewing the argument, he grimaces, tapping Blaine lightly on the shoulder and whispering.

"What would you say to the idea of a drink. I am not much of a businessman and, to be quite frank, this sort of thing makes me more than a little uncomfortable."

John taps his cane lightly on the floor for emphasis, raising an eyebrow.

[Blaine]

The doctor must be pretty astute, perhaps it was the constant flexing of Blaine's meaty fists, or the grinding of his teeth that could be heard several feet ahead, but a drink for Blaine might be in everyone's best interests. He taps Blaine on the shoulder a second before he seems about to go in and give Cornish a few choice words (if Cornish was lucky that's all he'd get!). Blaine's head whips around at the touch, and then he relaxes when he sees it's the Doc.

"Oh, what's up Doc? Yeah let's get that drink, there's nothin' for me to say here. Probably just get in trouble for knockin' his teeth out." grumbles Blaine as he heads toward the bar, putting his arm over Doctor Mystery's shoulders in a chummy way.