Log:Messy Negotiations
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| "Messy Negotiations" (Spies, Lies, and Family Ties, Pt. 5) | |
|---|---|
| Emitter | Odin |
| Players | Reckless |
| NPCs | Bronco, Charlie |
| Place | Brigham's Custom Engines |
| Time (IC) | August 23, 2012 - Night |
| Time (OOC) | August 23, 2007 |
It's evening. The sun is setting, the crickets are starting to create their evening symphonies. The traffic is rather light at this hour as it passes along the road near Brigham's Custom Engines. The lights are off in the shop, but occassionally a flicker of light can be witnessed passing across a window or reflecting off of glass inside. Around the back of a garage, a large black minivan is parked.
There is definitely someone inside moving around. Two someone's to be exact and making a progressive and thourough sweep of the place as they tear through it. A loud "CRASH!" sounds as a bucket full of loose bolts and screws is thrust aside and the contents goes scattering across the floor. Items litter the floor of the Garage's office space and the garage itself. Any vehicles that are presently there in the shop have been searched too.
The searchers are two men. One tall and muscular, the other average and lean, both in dark camoflage uniforms. Both are wearing night-vision lenses. "You're certain it was here?"
"This is the location that was picked up before the signal was lost. Keep looking..." the taller of the two says, pulling out a knife as he moves to a vehicle, intent on shredding the seats in the same manner they did to Hayden's car.
Unfortunately, Hank was still about fifteen miles away when all this got started. Fortunately, the garage does have a security system wired into a pager that he wears, so he knows *something* is up. He and his truck park about a quarter-mile away for now.
"Bronco..." the leaner, shorter man hisses as his investigation uncovers more rooms to search. He starts that way, realizes that 'Bronco' is still moving for the car and whistles. Bronco turns, folds the knife and slips it back into a pocket. He nods, boots crunching over the glass from a few broken jars as he joins his accomplice.
Silence descends over the two, only as they do the initial sweep of the back rooms. Casing it all out. Then their concerted effort of leaving no stone unturned begins. They're not here for cash, nor are they here to steal a car, or take car parts. There is one singular thing that they are looking for. But they do take in anything in those back room that might be useful information for later. Still, they have a mission and anything else is merely secondary to aquiring what they came here to get.
The armor is not in that back room, since Hank has it with him. So there's something at least. There's still a good bit in the way of half-constructed experimental parts back there, though. Speaking of the armor, Hank has begun suiting up. Clearly, he wants to say 'hi'.
Lucky, that. Finding /that/ would really spark their interest, but the half-constructed experimental parts are enough to cause 'Bronco' to stand still and study them. One construction is picked up, turned over in his hand. In a sudden outburst, the man overhands it into the wall with excessive force. "Where the hell is it?" he asks in a low growl.
"It may not be here any longer," the other man says, flipping nightvision goggles up to the top of his head, "You realize tearing things up lacks any stealth whatsoever."
"Screw stealth. We were told to make it look like a break-in, Charlie," Bronco says, yanking a desk drawer out and spilling the contents on the floor so that he can rifle through it. He lifts his head, looking at Charlie, "What are you stopping for?"
"Just thinking. If it was still in the car, they should have picked it up then. Why wasn't it putting off a signal until a full day later? And why did it stop again now?"
"Have you seen the shit around here?" Bronco asks, sweeping his hand across the desk contents angrilly and stomping over it to dig through something else, "Maybe whoever owns this place found a way to supress it like the kid did. Who knows? Who the hell cares? Let's just find it and get out of here."
There's a whine of turbines in the distance, as Hank (or Reckless, now) takes to the air to cover that last quarter-mile quite quickly. He's not trying to be subtle, which is good, because he probably couldn't manage it if he did try. Once he's made his way inside, he says, quite loudly, "Can I help you gentlemen?"
Of course, the guys hear Reckless coming. Charlie and Bronco both turn to face the entrance of the room they're in when that voice announces the question. Bronco's hand drops to his sidearm and a smooth movement draws it, finger flipping the safety off. Charlie doesn't draw his weapon, but he does choose to speak, "We're looking for something that belongs to us. Small. Electronic. Was sending out a signal. Maybe you've seen it?"
"Radios are up one floor, next to housewares," Reckless replies. Apparently not terribly worried about the prospect of the gun. "But I reckon it's something smaller you're looking for, yeah?" A pause. "Belongs to you, you say?"
A wise guy, eh? Charlie quirks a small, unamused smile at that. "Yes. I would say it's a little smaller than a radio." He eyes the metallic-formed figure and finally unstraps his own sidearm, "And yes. It belongs to us. It's classified and needs to be returned."
Bronco has his weapon trained on Reckless and hasn't wavered with it. He doubts it would pierce through the armor, but it's something. "Interesting costume for a garage mechanic," the man in the soldier's uniform states, "If you know what we're talking about, then maybe you know where it is."
"Just came from a Halloween party. These folks celebrate early," Reckless says, his tone utterly casual. "Let's skip past all the witty banter though, I've got a full night. You want your little chip. I want an answer or two. Now, it seems to me we can do this peaceable, or we can do it...not. I'm all for peaceable. Howabout you?"
Bronco and Charlie exchange looks, the two men engaging in visual communication. Charlie steps forward, hand on his weapon, however he leaves it holstered. "I would prefer to handle this peaceably as well. Now. The chip. Or I will give Bronco the go-ahead to initiation agressive negotiations."
"Is that what happened in the kid whose car got torn apart? Aggressive negotiations?" Reckless says, even as he stalks across the workshop. "Is it a waste of time for me to be asking questions at all? I ain't really that fond of wasting time."
"You could call that aggressive negotiations," Charlie says, following Reckless across the workshop with his eyes. "Sorry about the mess." He really doesn't sound sorry at all. His voice is just simply flat and emotionless. Bronco keeps the gun trained on the armored figure. The question of whether or not Reckless is wasting his time is not answered.
"All right then. You've made your offer, now I'll make mine," Reckless replies. "The chip for the kid. Even trade, we both walk away happy." A pause. "Well, you walk away and I stay, but we're still both happy."
"We're not authorized to make that deal," Charlie says, "Nor am I aware where he is located." The man fixes his eyes one what would be perceived as the armor's face, his voice cool and a bit more forceful. "The chip."
"I see," Reckless says, standing there for a few moments. "So who *is* authorized to make that deal, then?"
"Someone you're unlikely to meet, Tin Can," Bronco snaps, "Give him the damn chip."
"My friend is lacking in his diplomacy skills this evening," Charlie says, resting a hand briefly on Bronco's shoulder. Charlie is no longer smiling, even in an unamused way, but he's at least being courteous enough to answer some questions. "I'm not at liberty to tell you that. But I can oblige with conveying a message that you wish to talk to someone with control. I doubt that kind of bargain will be made, but it wouldn't hurt to ask."
"So what you're saying is that I've got to hand over this chip of yours, and in return I get a vague promise that you might talk to someone and that nothing's probably going to come of it?" Reckless asks. "Well, least y'all are honest. Still, wouldn't want it said I kept hold of things as wasn't mine." He moves toward a wall safe, and opens it, taking out a small lined box, in which the chip rests. "Take it and get the hell out of here."
"Honest is the best policy," Charlie says. He steps forward to take the chip out of the box. "I am actually sorry that I can't offer you any more than that." Chip held between gloved fingers, Charlie takes a step back and jerks his head at Bronco. Bronco backs up, gun still trained on Reckless, toward the door. Charlie inclines his head at the armored man, "Pleasure negotiating with you. Have a nice evening."
"Pass the word upstairs for me, if you would," Reckless says, tilting his head slightly. "I don't really give a damn about who you are, or what the point of that little gizmo is. But it'd be good business for you to release the kid, sooner the better. Bad business would be continuing to point that little popgun at me. I might start to take offense."
Bronco at last holsters his weapon at the door and turns abruptly, jogging over scattered debris in the garage as he exits. Charlie waits a moment longer, "No offense meant." Just following training. Charlie pockets the 'little gizmo' and then he too is out the door. There is only a moment before the pair are climbing into their van and driving off. . . leaving Reckless to deal with the mess they made of his place while looking for the thing.
