|
Post by Peter G. Nielsen on Mar 2, 2005 2:36:37 GMT -5
"Austin, Trent here seems to be normal enough. He's doing business with everyone is town from the looks of it. Quite a network to be sure but nothing really suspect yet. It is possible that he's just a very rich, very versital business man. You got anything new?"
|
|
|
Post by Heikki Toivonen on Mar 2, 2005 2:37:36 GMT -5
Heikki watches ash fall like snow, and he is pleased with what the Chechnyans did today. He walks slowly, holding out his hand to collect the snow of ruin. He smiles.
A chunk of building collapses on him, pinning him to the ground and rendering him unconscious.
|
|
|
Post by beholdthevoid on Mar 2, 2005 2:45:57 GMT -5
"All I can say about Trent is that he was involved in some rather illicit black market deals not too long ago. He was connected to some very high profile murders not too long ago, but no formal charges were ever dropped. I don't believe that he's cleaned up his act, but he's a clever one and not about to tip his hand. Also, I've been researching the terrorist incident from this morning. It seems that these three were the masterminds behind the plot, and sent in several suicide bombers. Fortunately, they were all apprehended by security and gunned down before they could detonate their bombs. The three masterminds were on the scene, possibly attempting to obtain some information or hijack a plane or something in the chaos, but they managed to escape when things turned sour."
|
|
|
Post by Peter G. Nielsen on Mar 2, 2005 2:54:46 GMT -5
"Beautiful. Alright, so far there's not much to go on... Considering Trent's past dealings I think he's our best bet right now.
His security is tight but I think I can get through alittle. If you find out anything new message me. Otherwise don't try to contact me."
Peter hangs up and looks around. He'd have to move down a few blocks and loop around to get around behind... this would be tricky but not impossible.
|
|
|
Post by beholdthevoid on Mar 2, 2005 3:00:08 GMT -5
((Going to bed after this post))
I put my phone away and continue my work. After I finish, I go home, take a shower, cook some burritoes, and go to bed. I leave some for Sara in case she wants to eat them whenever she gets home.
|
|
|
Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 2, 2005 3:05:02 GMT -5
Bassarov is aboard a train to Moscow for a party meeting. Petrozavodsk no longer has a local socialist group, and the government shut down the one in St. Petersburg. Thus, he is en route to Moscow where the party meets underground.
Capitalist Russia is no freer than Soviet Russia. The press is controlled. And, although businesses are "privately" owned, the government can and does take control of them from time to time, imprisoning the CEO should he or she make a political mistep. There are some differences, but most are bad. No more free higher education, health care, or stipends of the elderly.
Bassarov looks out the window of the train and reflects on how little Russia changed since the collapse of the Soviet Union. Maybe that is why, after all this time, the communist party is still the largest party in his country, even if it does not hold the most political power.
In the countryside, Bassarov knows more communists than capitalists. He agrees with neither, since both failed to his country or the world any good.
And so, he finds his solution in a revolutionary socialism, which is why we find him on the train today.
|
|
|
Post by alex on Mar 2, 2005 8:42:35 GMT -5
OOC: What happend to slow paced? lol
Ic: Alexanders alarm broke into a ring as he stepped out of bed at about 5:30am that morning. He had to get to Iran to meet with a guy at his oil field. 20 minutes later he was dressed, had a cup of morning tea, and was on his way to the airport.
OOC: ok who wants to RP with me? xD
|
|
|
Post by sara on Mar 2, 2005 11:47:19 GMT -5
Sara unlocks the door and enters the apartment quietly, so she doesn't wake up Austin. After removing her coat, she enters the kitchen and finds the burritos. There are a few vegitarian ones for her.
"Thank you Austin," she says rhetorically, as she helps herself to some of the food. She has just returned from a press release downtown about the new 'counter-terror' measures, including military personnel on streetcorners from now on. Also, public demonstration is going to be restricted somewhat.
Sara sets a plate and a burrito on the table and eats it cold, with some salsa from the refrigerator. She also pours herself a soda. As she eats, she pauses ocassionally to chew thoughtfully, and write a little.
|
|
|
Post by Heikki Toivonen on Mar 2, 2005 11:51:26 GMT -5
Heikki wakes up hours later with a nasty cut on the back of his head. He rubs his blood crusted hair and pulls himself out of the pile of debris. It is night now. The people are gone, the building has fallen. There is a beauty in the loss and pain. It shows something. It proves something. The emptyness that destruction leaves in its wake is humbling. Suffering is so powerful it is the only divine in a world without a God.
He admires the mess, and stumbles over something. A human. He doesn't bother to check if he is alive.
"Maybe you should stay out of my way next time." He kicks the body.
He has always been dark and angry. He can't remember a single lasting moment of happiness in his life.
|
|
|
Post by Peter G. Nielsen on Mar 2, 2005 11:52:00 GMT -5
A man in a worn janitor's uniform slowly walks down the hallway of the hotel where Mr. Steel was staying. The uniform had been the easy part, getting inside without breaking anything had been the hard one. Luckily someone had come out the back and Peter had managed to catch the door before it closed. He felt almost guilty that he'd gotten through so easily.
Peter passes down the hallway, passing by the room with a secuirty guard out front. If Trent was trying to hide then that was a bad choice. Which ment he mostly likely didn't care who knew where he was.
Down the hall and around the corner Peter finds what he's looking for, the electric box for this level. A little work with the skeleton key and he has access. He glances up and down the hall just to be sure no one is watching, then up at the ceiling to check of cameras. Once he's sure he's in the clear he begins to work.
The small wad of explosive he carefully works into the thick wires is small, the size of a large pea. Buried into the wires as it is the charge should be unnoticed. When it went off the blast would sever any connections inside the box without blasting off the door. Peter closes the electric and gives his hat a little adjustment, working the bill of the cap lower over his face before moving back down the hallway. With the guard there he couldn't direct bug the room. He'd have to wait for a chance to get in there. Until then, he was going to go change and wait in the loddy.
Of course, since he was working alone that ment Trent would be without a tail while Peter was going through the room. Sometimes he regretted being a solo operation, but the advantages usually outweighted the inconvinaces.
|
|
Erich Von Hendrich
Provisional Member
German Communist Engineer
The Sword leaves a bigger mark on the world than the pen
Posts: 76
|
Post by Erich Von Hendrich on Mar 2, 2005 11:55:28 GMT -5
Erich was on the same train to Moscow as Bassarov. He was eager to see Moscow since most of his time in Russia was spent in St. Petersberg. But due the government comlications he had to leave the city.
He packed what little belongings he had and was on his way. He had already made prepartions for housing and a possible job ahead of schedule. He was all set.
He was looking for a seat on the train and approched the seating area around Bassarov.
"Is this seat taken?"
|
|
|
Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 2, 2005 11:58:21 GMT -5
"No it isn't. You may sit here." Bassarov replies. He hated taking Russian trains. They were crowded, hot, and the rest rooms left much to be desired. Even to this day, waste from the rest rooms fell right onto the train tracks...
Although it was now March, the train was hot from the mass of bodies crowded together.
|
|
Erich Von Hendrich
Provisional Member
German Communist Engineer
The Sword leaves a bigger mark on the world than the pen
Posts: 76
|
Post by Erich Von Hendrich on Mar 2, 2005 12:03:26 GMT -5
"Thank you sir"
Erich took his seat. He had never been on many train trips. He did once when he was heading to the Military boot camp. But the trip was so short you could hardly call it a trip.
This train had been crowded. Erich wondered if all train were like this. Then he sat down and began to read the paper on political events. One particle part of the editorials ridiculed Communism. He let out a chuckle after reading it.
|
|
|
Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 2, 2005 12:08:25 GMT -5
"So why are you headed to Moscow? Are you traveling on business?" This man didn't appear Russian, and since he spoke with an accent, Bassarov assumed that maybe he was from Germany or Austria. It was hard to determine this.
|
|
|
Post by Peter G. Nielsen on Mar 2, 2005 12:12:11 GMT -5
Standing in the far corner of the lobby, as far away from the check in desk as he can be, Peter closes his cellphone. Trace was running down the names of the security that Trent had based on the pictures Peter had gotten of them with the phone's camera.
It wasn't directly required information, but knowledge was power. What he really needed was proof of Trent's connections and that was harder to do, even with just the unoffical information.
With nothing else to do, Peter settles into a chair and picks up an old copy of the Times.
|
|