The Masked Man was shouting, a voice raw with rage. "None of you really care! None of you give a shit!"
She feels dizzy, feels for a moment as if she is back on The Horsebreeder's Ranch, the night it burned. Maybe I died there and now I'm a ghost...
The dizziness keeps her from noticing Brogan staggering out of the flames, pistol in hand.
The Masked Man draws on Brogan but Brogan squeezes first and a burst of blood erupts from the Masked Man's head.
Brogan's gun sounds strange. Mags remembers the rumours, that the gun Logollos shot Sugarcube with had sounded strange. It's bringing her back, the sound, the question of it, bringing her back from the ranch, but too slowly.
Brogan already turning to face her, gun raised.
And part of her mind, staggering out of the flames from that night at the ranch into the flames that are swallowing Omega, part of her is trying to see if she can see, now that their hat is knocked off from the gunshot, if she can see who The Masked Man is...
Even as she, reflexes kicking in, raises her own gun at Brogan, but still too slow.
Maybe I am going to find out what happened to Sugarcube after all.
Except there are suddenly hoofbeats like thunder and a horse and rider charge out of the smoke. Right behind Brogan. And the rider, a massive man, shirtless and bloodied, long blond hair tangled and damp with sweat, hacks Brogan's head off with a giant sword.
"Maggie!" the rider roars, a savage grin on his face. "It's time to go!"
And she remembers him, another wave of dizziness, a wave of memories, enough to drown her - Vlad, he was called, and Akimoto - and the dizziness overtakes her, starting to fall, and the memories, remembering what it feels like to shift.
Showing posts with label brogan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brogan. Show all posts
20160123
C2IP: The Agenda War VII
"Well, the bounty hunter was already there. She had rode in the night before, took a room at The Emperor. After checkin' The Hanged Man and learnin' it was shut down.
"So she's sittin' at the table in the corner with her rifle laid right out in front o' her, like she's darin' anyone to cross her. See, the clientelle was a lot o' hired guns workin' for the oil folks, mostly to guard shipments and the like, and sometimes keep the workin' folk in line. They were generally a fairly surly group, the kind you'd reasonably 'spect to trouble a lady sittin' by her lonesome in a Saloon.
"None of 'em troubled Mags Magenta though.
"And after a time the other three showed up and it was almost a reunion of the posse from the Incident last year, 'cept the Preacher wasn't there. The ex-sheriff, the ex-Marshal and the ex-gambler. They got to talkin' - I figures they were catchin' the bounty hunter up on all that had come to pass. The oil, the Mayor, the Law and the Wagoners.
"Part o' me woulda loved to been eavesdroppin' on that chat, just to know how exactly all this mess sounded in the tellin'. If any of it made any gorram sense or whether it was sense that died the day of the Logollos-Sugarcube showdown, if it was the corpse of normalcy and reason and right-thinkin' that they found in that coffin...
"The part left o' me though, if I'm to be truthful, is glad I never heard just what they said. They were an odd bunch, spooky and dangerous. For some reason, imaginin' what their conversation woulda been like makes me feel like when Pa would tell us ghost stories 'round the fire on cold winter nights.
"It wasn't long after that when the gents seated by the window began whisperin' that the Sheriff was outside.
"And then the first explosion happened.
"And then the shootin' started."
"So she's sittin' at the table in the corner with her rifle laid right out in front o' her, like she's darin' anyone to cross her. See, the clientelle was a lot o' hired guns workin' for the oil folks, mostly to guard shipments and the like, and sometimes keep the workin' folk in line. They were generally a fairly surly group, the kind you'd reasonably 'spect to trouble a lady sittin' by her lonesome in a Saloon.
"None of 'em troubled Mags Magenta though.
"And after a time the other three showed up and it was almost a reunion of the posse from the Incident last year, 'cept the Preacher wasn't there. The ex-sheriff, the ex-Marshal and the ex-gambler. They got to talkin' - I figures they were catchin' the bounty hunter up on all that had come to pass. The oil, the Mayor, the Law and the Wagoners.
"Part o' me woulda loved to been eavesdroppin' on that chat, just to know how exactly all this mess sounded in the tellin'. If any of it made any gorram sense or whether it was sense that died the day of the Logollos-Sugarcube showdown, if it was the corpse of normalcy and reason and right-thinkin' that they found in that coffin...
"The part left o' me though, if I'm to be truthful, is glad I never heard just what they said. They were an odd bunch, spooky and dangerous. For some reason, imaginin' what their conversation woulda been like makes me feel like when Pa would tell us ghost stories 'round the fire on cold winter nights.
"It wasn't long after that when the gents seated by the window began whisperin' that the Sheriff was outside.
"And then the first explosion happened.
"And then the shootin' started."
20160118
C2IP: The Agenda War VI
Weldwood Que, Mayor of Omega Canyon, poured himself a second brandy. He liked the way the light from the chandelier reflected in the liquid. "What exactly is the problem?"
Brogan Mirk, Sheriff of Omega Canyon, brushed some dust off his boot. "Their activities are creating a general air of dissent. Flyers and posters are appearing through the town, around some of the drill sites, even on some of the ranches on the North and South plateaus of the canyon. Manifesto-type writings, questioning the future of the area, questioning the benefits of the oil boom..."
Angus Mode, Deputy Sheriff, wiped some gravy from his moustache with a silk handkerchief. "Questioning the decisions and leadership of the Mayor."
Brogan Mirk, Sheriff of Omega Canyon, brushed some dust off his boot. "Their activities are creating a general air of dissent. Flyers and posters are appearing through the town, around some of the drill sites, even on some of the ranches on the North and South plateaus of the canyon. Manifesto-type writings, questioning the future of the area, questioning the benefits of the oil boom..."
Angus Mode, Deputy Sheriff, wiped some gravy from his moustache with a silk handkerchief. "Questioning the decisions and leadership of the Mayor."
Brogan shot Angus a look.
Mr. Throckmorton, local liaison to the Oil Companies from Temperance City, helped himself to the bottle of brandy. Servants were not allowed in these meetings. "Workers are beginnin' to hold meetings, talkin' about safety conditions, fair compensation, other such nonsense. Plus there's these weird symbols croppin' up, sometimes etched, like with a knife, sometimes painted, on some of the drillin' rigs or foreman cabins. Not really sure what that's all about."
Mr. Lanight, chief editor of The Omega Times, added, "The symbols have appeared on our building as well, and The Emperor Saloon."
Brogan interjected. "The symbols are repeated on many of the flyers and posters. It seems like a way to be reminding folks about the messages."
Que was frowning.
Brogan continued. "None of them are saying anything downright traitorous or treasonous. They're claiming to be a voice for the people of the Canyon."
"And have you identified any of the authors of the messages? Or the vandals defacing these buildings?"
"If the budget to the Sheriff's Office were to be increased," Brogan replied, "I could easily hire on some more men to keep a better watch. We may also want to consider a curfew."
Throckmorton added, "I'm certain the Temperance folks would endorse and maybe even kick in for an increase in security."
"The fact is," Angus said, "we've got two darkies and a slant-eye living in this Canyon, all of whom have reason to dislike the current way of things. One of them is good with letters, one of them has access to a printing press and one of them made a career on deceit and trickery. I think it's obvious who's behind this Wagoners business!"
Brogan sighed. Angus was a hothead but the Mayor was feeling the pressure and Brogan knew he was looking for a target. Not the best time for more troubling news, but - he chugged back his own glass of brandy - why not?
"You should also know, Mayor Que, that the bounty hunter Mags Magenta returned to Omega Canyon last night."
Mr. Throckmorton, local liaison to the Oil Companies from Temperance City, helped himself to the bottle of brandy. Servants were not allowed in these meetings. "Workers are beginnin' to hold meetings, talkin' about safety conditions, fair compensation, other such nonsense. Plus there's these weird symbols croppin' up, sometimes etched, like with a knife, sometimes painted, on some of the drillin' rigs or foreman cabins. Not really sure what that's all about."
Mr. Lanight, chief editor of The Omega Times, added, "The symbols have appeared on our building as well, and The Emperor Saloon."
Brogan interjected. "The symbols are repeated on many of the flyers and posters. It seems like a way to be reminding folks about the messages."
Que was frowning.
Brogan continued. "None of them are saying anything downright traitorous or treasonous. They're claiming to be a voice for the people of the Canyon."
"And have you identified any of the authors of the messages? Or the vandals defacing these buildings?"
"If the budget to the Sheriff's Office were to be increased," Brogan replied, "I could easily hire on some more men to keep a better watch. We may also want to consider a curfew."
Throckmorton added, "I'm certain the Temperance folks would endorse and maybe even kick in for an increase in security."
"The fact is," Angus said, "we've got two darkies and a slant-eye living in this Canyon, all of whom have reason to dislike the current way of things. One of them is good with letters, one of them has access to a printing press and one of them made a career on deceit and trickery. I think it's obvious who's behind this Wagoners business!"
Brogan sighed. Angus was a hothead but the Mayor was feeling the pressure and Brogan knew he was looking for a target. Not the best time for more troubling news, but - he chugged back his own glass of brandy - why not?
"You should also know, Mayor Que, that the bounty hunter Mags Magenta returned to Omega Canyon last night."
20160108
C2IP: The Agenda War IV
Brogan set the empty glass on the bar. "That's a quality drink, Mr. Lokk."
Callan held up the bottle of whisky, offering a second shot, but Brogan shook his head.
"At least when I give you my money now," he went on with a smirk, "I get something in return, unlike the many times I gave it to you at the poker table."
Callan chuckled. "My apologies."
"None necessary. You out-played me."
"Since we're not gambling now, why don't we go ahead and put all our cards on the table right away? I'm aware that Mr. Que is planning to propose that one of the two saloons in the Canyon have its liquor license revoked. He will claim he is concerned about the effects of unchecked drinking given the influx of new workers to the region."
Brogan gestured to the bottle and Callan poured a second shot as he continued speaking.
"And I'm aware that the saloon he allows to continue operating will undoubtedly be the one he feels will best support his goals as Mayor."
Brogan took a sip. "We both know that the kind of talk that is either encouraged or discouraged at the local watering hole can have a profound impact on the opinions of a community. And that the support of a Mayor is beneficial for anyone doing business in said community..."
Callan held up the bottle of whisky, offering a second shot, but Brogan shook his head.
"At least when I give you my money now," he went on with a smirk, "I get something in return, unlike the many times I gave it to you at the poker table."
Callan chuckled. "My apologies."
"None necessary. You out-played me."
"Since we're not gambling now, why don't we go ahead and put all our cards on the table right away? I'm aware that Mr. Que is planning to propose that one of the two saloons in the Canyon have its liquor license revoked. He will claim he is concerned about the effects of unchecked drinking given the influx of new workers to the region."
Brogan gestured to the bottle and Callan poured a second shot as he continued speaking.
"And I'm aware that the saloon he allows to continue operating will undoubtedly be the one he feels will best support his goals as Mayor."
Brogan took a sip. "We both know that the kind of talk that is either encouraged or discouraged at the local watering hole can have a profound impact on the opinions of a community. And that the support of a Mayor is beneficial for anyone doing business in said community..."
20160105
C2IP: The Agenda War III
"You're a woman."
Wraith stared at Brogan.
"And you're not even white."
Stared.
"What I'm saying is, Ms. Wraith, is that your appointment as a Marshal was nothing sort of miraculous and I consider it irrefutable evidence of your dedication and skill. That you should have retired from the position is, to me, only another indication that your full worth is as yet untapped. And I believe that your journalistic endeavours will only serve to validate that suspicion."
"Are you auditioning for a column in the paper, Mirk? We don't pay by the word, I'm afraid."
He smiled.
"Not exactly. I have been, however, urged to discuss the future of your publication by the new Mayor, who sees the value in a reliable source of news for the residents of the Canyon. So much so, in fact, that he is proposing that you and your partner receive a government grant to upgrade your printing equipment and a small tax exemption to offset the cost of materials. The goal being an increase in both quality and distribution."
Wraith's eyes narrowed slightly.
Brogan continued, "Now that the drilling operations have begun it will be even more essential for Omega to have a strong, clear voice..."
Wraith stared at Brogan.
"And you're not even white."
Stared.
"What I'm saying is, Ms. Wraith, is that your appointment as a Marshal was nothing sort of miraculous and I consider it irrefutable evidence of your dedication and skill. That you should have retired from the position is, to me, only another indication that your full worth is as yet untapped. And I believe that your journalistic endeavours will only serve to validate that suspicion."
"Are you auditioning for a column in the paper, Mirk? We don't pay by the word, I'm afraid."
He smiled.
"Not exactly. I have been, however, urged to discuss the future of your publication by the new Mayor, who sees the value in a reliable source of news for the residents of the Canyon. So much so, in fact, that he is proposing that you and your partner receive a government grant to upgrade your printing equipment and a small tax exemption to offset the cost of materials. The goal being an increase in both quality and distribution."
Wraith's eyes narrowed slightly.
Brogan continued, "Now that the drilling operations have begun it will be even more essential for Omega to have a strong, clear voice..."
20160102
C2IP: The Agenda War II
"I think it's obvious that the Office of Frontier Affairs will be taking an active interest in the growth and prosperity of Omega Canyon, given the news."
"Undoubtedly."
Brogan Mirk adjusted the brim of his hat. "I've been given permission to share with you, Mr. Washington, that the initial meetings have already taken place."
Dex smirked. "So the article in The Canyon Star was accurate."
"To a point."
"Why no public meetings?"
"Mr. Washington, I have been a residence of the Canyon for many, many years and am deeply invested in ensuring the prosperity of the town and its people. You and I shared a mutual acquaintance, the dear departed Mr. Sugarcube. Your honourable history in law enforcement is known to me. It was at my insistence that the OFA agreed to this discussion."
Dexter listened briefly to the sound of the students playing outside. Laughter, no shouting or crying. "And what exactly are we discussing, Mr. Mirk?"
"A gentleman from Temperance City by the name of Weldwood Que is being installed as the new Mayor of the Canyon. I will be appointed as the new Sheriff. The discussion before us today, Mr. Washington, is about whether or not I can convince you to accept the position of Deputy..."
"Undoubtedly."
Brogan Mirk adjusted the brim of his hat. "I've been given permission to share with you, Mr. Washington, that the initial meetings have already taken place."
Dex smirked. "So the article in The Canyon Star was accurate."
"To a point."
"Why no public meetings?"
"Mr. Washington, I have been a residence of the Canyon for many, many years and am deeply invested in ensuring the prosperity of the town and its people. You and I shared a mutual acquaintance, the dear departed Mr. Sugarcube. Your honourable history in law enforcement is known to me. It was at my insistence that the OFA agreed to this discussion."
Dexter listened briefly to the sound of the students playing outside. Laughter, no shouting or crying. "And what exactly are we discussing, Mr. Mirk?"
"A gentleman from Temperance City by the name of Weldwood Que is being installed as the new Mayor of the Canyon. I will be appointed as the new Sheriff. The discussion before us today, Mr. Washington, is about whether or not I can convince you to accept the position of Deputy..."
20140409
Eigenvector
"I haven't seen Cube in days," Gauntlet says.
"He's on assignment," Brogan replies without looking up from the datapad.
"Is the file available?"
"It's deep cover. Classified."
"Understood." She turns to leave. "Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Nevermind."
*
Three days later, Gauntlet and Viking are in the field, sniper training for an upcoming op. Gauntlet in the grass on the trigger of the .50 Cal, a mashup of Futhark runes and Bagua trigrams painted in nail polish along the barrel. Viking laying beside her, spotting, running through the Artemis mantras he will use when the time comes. If there is any surveillance on them it will be visual only, from Hermit.
"He left a note hidden in my bunk," Viking whispers. "I'll show it to you when we get a chance."
"What did it say?"
"That he wouldn't be coming back from the mission, that hopefully it was because he went rogue and not because Brogan's ambush worked. He apologized for not getting a chance to move on Brogan, and for leaving us in a difficult situation. He said that he hoped we would meet again, and that hopefully we'd remember each other if we did..."
"Hm." She adjusts her scope.
"So what's our play? You have to know he's right about Brogan."
"I think Brogan's only a puppet. I think it goes even farther. Maybe the whole MK-Omega project is dirty. So we watch and we listen, maybe look into Cube's first tour with the Cadre, try not to tip our hand, and maybe we can get a glimpse behind the curtain... And then 'To Be Continued'."
"Ha. That's what he wrote on the bottom of the note."
"He's on assignment," Brogan replies without looking up from the datapad.
"Is the file available?"
"It's deep cover. Classified."
"Understood." She turns to leave. "Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Nevermind."
*
Three days later, Gauntlet and Viking are in the field, sniper training for an upcoming op. Gauntlet in the grass on the trigger of the .50 Cal, a mashup of Futhark runes and Bagua trigrams painted in nail polish along the barrel. Viking laying beside her, spotting, running through the Artemis mantras he will use when the time comes. If there is any surveillance on them it will be visual only, from Hermit.
"He left a note hidden in my bunk," Viking whispers. "I'll show it to you when we get a chance."
"What did it say?"
"That he wouldn't be coming back from the mission, that hopefully it was because he went rogue and not because Brogan's ambush worked. He apologized for not getting a chance to move on Brogan, and for leaving us in a difficult situation. He said that he hoped we would meet again, and that hopefully we'd remember each other if we did..."
"Hm." She adjusts her scope.
"So what's our play? You have to know he's right about Brogan."
"I think Brogan's only a puppet. I think it goes even farther. Maybe the whole MK-Omega project is dirty. So we watch and we listen, maybe look into Cube's first tour with the Cadre, try not to tip our hand, and maybe we can get a glimpse behind the curtain... And then 'To Be Continued'."
"Ha. That's what he wrote on the bottom of the note."
20140408
Archives
Section: Hostile Organizations
Sub-section: Cults
Entry 081118: The Revelation
A small cell of terrorists who operate globally. Their agenda seems to be destabilizing existing government and economic systems and disseminating anarchy. The nature of their communication network and funding sources remain unknown.
They tend to operate individually and only occasionally meet in person. Each agent is highly-trained in multiple combat styles and social engineering techniques. Agents are also expert-level psychics, employing clairvoyance, telekinesis, pyrokinesis, and in some cases even transvection.
The Revelation uses Christian symbolism in their activities. Field codes often involve linguistic or numerical references to passages in the Bible, from a variety of translations. Operatives adopt callsigns based on characters from Christian mythology. Despite these references, the cult does not appear to have an overtly religious motivation; there is no evangelical component to their actions. On the contrary, they have repeatedly attacked multiple power centres of organized religion, as well as government and corporate targets.
Current Known Roster: Gabriel (Gabby), Magriel (Mags), Ms. Morningstar (Lucy), Lilith (Lily), St. George (Pretty), Sandalphon (Sandy).
“There you are,” Cube said softly, looking at the file.
“For most people downtime doesn't mean research, my friend,” Brogan said as he entered the room.
Cube lay the pad down on the couch beside him. He didn't bother trying to clear the screen; Brogan would have Admin access and be able to track Cube's searches. Cube suspected that he had alerts set up for when certain files were opened and that his arrival in the lounge right now wasn't an accident.
“Would you believe I've seen all the movies we have downloaded? And the doc says I'm still not allowed to play videogames until my aura is fully recovered from the Inverness mission.”
“That's unfortunate,” Brogan said. “As soon as we get another secure transmission window I'll make sure I.T. gets some new content. They have digital comics online now, don't they? Didn't you used to read a lot comics?”
“That would be great. Thanks, Brogan.”
“My pleasure, Cube.”
Sub-section: Cults
Entry 081118: The Revelation
A small cell of terrorists who operate globally. Their agenda seems to be destabilizing existing government and economic systems and disseminating anarchy. The nature of their communication network and funding sources remain unknown.
They tend to operate individually and only occasionally meet in person. Each agent is highly-trained in multiple combat styles and social engineering techniques. Agents are also expert-level psychics, employing clairvoyance, telekinesis, pyrokinesis, and in some cases even transvection.
The Revelation uses Christian symbolism in their activities. Field codes often involve linguistic or numerical references to passages in the Bible, from a variety of translations. Operatives adopt callsigns based on characters from Christian mythology. Despite these references, the cult does not appear to have an overtly religious motivation; there is no evangelical component to their actions. On the contrary, they have repeatedly attacked multiple power centres of organized religion, as well as government and corporate targets.
Current Known Roster: Gabriel (Gabby), Magriel (Mags), Ms. Morningstar (Lucy), Lilith (Lily), St. George (Pretty), Sandalphon (Sandy).
“There you are,” Cube said softly, looking at the file.
“For most people downtime doesn't mean research, my friend,” Brogan said as he entered the room.
Cube lay the pad down on the couch beside him. He didn't bother trying to clear the screen; Brogan would have Admin access and be able to track Cube's searches. Cube suspected that he had alerts set up for when certain files were opened and that his arrival in the lounge right now wasn't an accident.
“Would you believe I've seen all the movies we have downloaded? And the doc says I'm still not allowed to play videogames until my aura is fully recovered from the Inverness mission.”
“That's unfortunate,” Brogan said. “As soon as we get another secure transmission window I'll make sure I.T. gets some new content. They have digital comics online now, don't they? Didn't you used to read a lot comics?”
“That would be great. Thanks, Brogan.”
“My pleasure, Cube.”
20140407
Operation Tomb Raider
-- File Excerpt --
0203: Hostiles eliminated.
0204: Field Team arrives at front gate. Gauntlet maintaining cloak, Viking on overwatch, Cube bypasses defenses [mission-issued super-coolant for the physical lock, corrosive visualization trancework for the astral sensors].
0206: Field Team enters Villa.
0208: Floor One cleared.
0209: Basement cleared.
0210: Field Team approaches Chamber. Gauntlet drops cloak and performs Type 7 enchantment to access the Chamber. Viking performs Heimdall invocation and resumes overwatch.
0211: Gauntlet and Cube enter the Chamber and go dark.
“Three minutes for me to copy the text,” Cube said as he began scanning the first page of the Grimoire. “No one can hear us in here, so go ahead and say what you want to say.”
“I think you're the one who's been waiting to say something,” Gauntlet fired back.
Cube kept scanning the pages. He didn't want this to be a battle. “Okay, okay... Why don't we start with... All those things you saw and felt when MK-Omega was first training you for the Cadre, all those hallucinations and visions...”
Gauntlet remembered some of them, still had nightmares.
“They were real,” he told her. “Or parts of them were. I'm pretty sure, anyway.”
Gauntlet resisted the urge to deny it, maybe because they saw things (almost) as strange on every mission, maybe for another reason... “Is that why you murdered your first handler?” It was a counter-attack of sorts.
Cube looked up at her, hands still turning the pages, moving the scanner. “I don't... Well, it's why I'm going to murder Brogan.”
There was a moment when things felt violent. She asked “Why?” instead.
“Because I've met him before, I think, or a version of him. And I'm fairly certain that he's directing the Cadre towards his own agenda. That he wants the power for himself.”
0214: Gauntlet and Cube exit the Chamber. Exfil protocol initiated.
0203: Hostiles eliminated.
0204: Field Team arrives at front gate. Gauntlet maintaining cloak, Viking on overwatch, Cube bypasses defenses [mission-issued super-coolant for the physical lock, corrosive visualization trancework for the astral sensors].
0206: Field Team enters Villa.
0208: Floor One cleared.
0209: Basement cleared.
0210: Field Team approaches Chamber. Gauntlet drops cloak and performs Type 7 enchantment to access the Chamber. Viking performs Heimdall invocation and resumes overwatch.
0211: Gauntlet and Cube enter the Chamber and go dark.
“Three minutes for me to copy the text,” Cube said as he began scanning the first page of the Grimoire. “No one can hear us in here, so go ahead and say what you want to say.”
“I think you're the one who's been waiting to say something,” Gauntlet fired back.
Cube kept scanning the pages. He didn't want this to be a battle. “Okay, okay... Why don't we start with... All those things you saw and felt when MK-Omega was first training you for the Cadre, all those hallucinations and visions...”
Gauntlet remembered some of them, still had nightmares.
“They were real,” he told her. “Or parts of them were. I'm pretty sure, anyway.”
Gauntlet resisted the urge to deny it, maybe because they saw things (almost) as strange on every mission, maybe for another reason... “Is that why you murdered your first handler?” It was a counter-attack of sorts.
Cube looked up at her, hands still turning the pages, moving the scanner. “I don't... Well, it's why I'm going to murder Brogan.”
There was a moment when things felt violent. She asked “Why?” instead.
“Because I've met him before, I think, or a version of him. And I'm fairly certain that he's directing the Cadre towards his own agenda. That he wants the power for himself.”
0214: Gauntlet and Cube exit the Chamber. Exfil protocol initiated.
20140406
Operation Macrocosm
Brogan tapped the screen on the table and the holo-display shifted to a new view. "Obviously timing is even more critical than usual. The coordination over such a large distance is part of what makes their ritual so genius, but so difficult to sabotage."
Viking grunted. "All three of us could hit one site and the whole thing falls apart."
Brogan smiled. "As always, your 'blunt instrument' approach is appreciated, but Objective One is to commandeer the ritual to our purposes. We want them to get as far as establishing the scaffolding, channeling the flow, and priming the delivery system -" With each point he tapped the screen and the display highlighted a different data-set. "- but then we want to divert the incoming Mana to a target of our choosing."
"So," Gauntlet interjected. "That will mean one of us at the airport, one at the resort and one at the stadium, with three separate counter-spells, simultaneous deployment, and completely covert."
Brogan nodded. "Or else they clue in and call it off themselves."
Gauntlet sighed. "You don't lack for vision, Mirk."
"And the new target will be?" Cube asked.
"That will already be encoded in the counter-spells. You just need to get there and cast."
Gauntlet said, her voice dancing the line between sincere and sarcastic, "Sounds like fun."
-- File Excerpt --
0903: Gauntlet casts counter-spell at Location Alpha. Viking casts counter-spell at Location Beta. Cube casts counter-spell at Location Delta.
0904: MK-Omega Satellite [Designation Hermit] tracks massive spikes in Mana [Types 7, 8, 17] at Locations Alpha, Beta, Delta.
0905: Hermit registers successful re-direction of Mana-flow to Target XXXXXXX.
0906: Cube begins exfil. Viking begins exfil. Gauntlet compromised, begins tactical engagement with opposition forces.
0907: Gauntlet clear, begins exfil.
0910: Local ground team confirms Target eliminated.
Viking grunted. "All three of us could hit one site and the whole thing falls apart."
Brogan smiled. "As always, your 'blunt instrument' approach is appreciated, but Objective One is to commandeer the ritual to our purposes. We want them to get as far as establishing the scaffolding, channeling the flow, and priming the delivery system -" With each point he tapped the screen and the display highlighted a different data-set. "- but then we want to divert the incoming Mana to a target of our choosing."
"So," Gauntlet interjected. "That will mean one of us at the airport, one at the resort and one at the stadium, with three separate counter-spells, simultaneous deployment, and completely covert."
Brogan nodded. "Or else they clue in and call it off themselves."
Gauntlet sighed. "You don't lack for vision, Mirk."
"And the new target will be?" Cube asked.
"That will already be encoded in the counter-spells. You just need to get there and cast."
Gauntlet said, her voice dancing the line between sincere and sarcastic, "Sounds like fun."
-- File Excerpt --
0903: Gauntlet casts counter-spell at Location Alpha. Viking casts counter-spell at Location Beta. Cube casts counter-spell at Location Delta.
0904: MK-Omega Satellite [Designation Hermit] tracks massive spikes in Mana [Types 7, 8, 17] at Locations Alpha, Beta, Delta.
0905: Hermit registers successful re-direction of Mana-flow to Target XXXXXXX.
0906: Cube begins exfil. Viking begins exfil. Gauntlet compromised, begins tactical engagement with opposition forces.
0907: Gauntlet clear, begins exfil.
0910: Local ground team confirms Target eliminated.
20140402
Dossier
Name: XXXXXXXXX
Callsign: Viking
Heavy Weapons Specialist
Invocation Expert
Rage and Siege Tactics
Archetypography: High ratings in Types 5, 16, 19
Notes: During Operation Nexus Wave the targets detonated their source of Type 15 Mana rather than allow it to be captured by the Cadre field unit, resulting in mass exposure and infection of the local population. Viking completed a solo incursion into the area and successfully enacted an improvised banishing ritual that negated the outbreak. While the original mission objective was not achieved, Viking's actions prevented a disaster and saved hundreds of lives.
Recent Activities: After the shutdown, Viking has been employed as a college professor, teaching both engineering and writing courses.
Name: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Callsign: Gauntlet
Close Combat Specialist
Enchantment Expert
Breach and Clear Tactics
Archetypography: High ratings in Types 8, 11, 14
Notes: Gauntlet was the sole survivor of a field unit investigating a Type 7 Event. Her memories of the incident are fragmented but a forensic telepath was able to determine that she spent over five hours in continuous combat with exo-parameter entities. When local emergency responders were dispatched to the location, Gauntlet was still standing.
Recent Activity: Since the cessation of operations Gauntlet has served as the personal bodyguard of former Cadre asset, the Ritualist Kevin Amirault.
Name: XXXXXXXXXX
Callsign: Cube
Infiltration Specialist
Illumination Expert
Hunter Tactics
Archetypography: High ratings in Types 0, 1, 10
Notes: During a routine mission to eliminate a Type 1 threat, Cube murdered his handler and disappeared. MK-OMEGA conducted a full investigation of the incident and cleared Cube of any wrong-doing [Investigation Records Clearance Level 23]. He is approved for reinstatement.
Recent Activity: Cube has been dark since disappearing but a standard surveillance sweep of regional law enforcement activity registered his admission to St. Anthony's Hospital [Flagged as Type 17 Event].
Callsign: Viking
Heavy Weapons Specialist
Invocation Expert
Rage and Siege Tactics
Archetypography: High ratings in Types 5, 16, 19
Notes: During Operation Nexus Wave the targets detonated their source of Type 15 Mana rather than allow it to be captured by the Cadre field unit, resulting in mass exposure and infection of the local population. Viking completed a solo incursion into the area and successfully enacted an improvised banishing ritual that negated the outbreak. While the original mission objective was not achieved, Viking's actions prevented a disaster and saved hundreds of lives.
Recent Activities: After the shutdown, Viking has been employed as a college professor, teaching both engineering and writing courses.
Name: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Callsign: Gauntlet
Close Combat Specialist
Enchantment Expert
Breach and Clear Tactics
Archetypography: High ratings in Types 8, 11, 14
Notes: Gauntlet was the sole survivor of a field unit investigating a Type 7 Event. Her memories of the incident are fragmented but a forensic telepath was able to determine that she spent over five hours in continuous combat with exo-parameter entities. When local emergency responders were dispatched to the location, Gauntlet was still standing.
Recent Activity: Since the cessation of operations Gauntlet has served as the personal bodyguard of former Cadre asset, the Ritualist Kevin Amirault.
Name: XXXXXXXXXX
Callsign: Cube
Infiltration Specialist
Illumination Expert
Hunter Tactics
Archetypography: High ratings in Types 0, 1, 10
Notes: During a routine mission to eliminate a Type 1 threat, Cube murdered his handler and disappeared. MK-OMEGA conducted a full investigation of the incident and cleared Cube of any wrong-doing [Investigation Records Clearance Level 23]. He is approved for reinstatement.
Recent Activity: Cube has been dark since disappearing but a standard surveillance sweep of regional law enforcement activity registered his admission to St. Anthony's Hospital [Flagged as Type 17 Event].
20140401
Eigenvalue
"Do you want to hit a drive-thru?" Brogan asked. "You're probably dying for a coffee."
"Sure, thanks." But when they pulled up to the speaker Max said, "Make it a tea."
When Brogan tapped the cigarette pack in the dashboard tray Max shook his head. Brogan kept his eyes on the road, headlights in the night, streetlamps, exit signs. "I guess it has been a while," he said.
Max almost said "Has it?" but he wasn't sure yet what was safe.
"Perhaps unsurprisingly," Brogan said, "catching the police report on you turned into a Type 17 Event."
Max tried to remember the jargon... Seventeen. The Star. This version of Brogan might be testing him. "An Omen of what?" Max asked.
"During my flight here to pick you up we got a call from MK-Omega. They want to put the Cadre back together."
"Sure, thanks." But when they pulled up to the speaker Max said, "Make it a tea."
When Brogan tapped the cigarette pack in the dashboard tray Max shook his head. Brogan kept his eyes on the road, headlights in the night, streetlamps, exit signs. "I guess it has been a while," he said.
Max almost said "Has it?" but he wasn't sure yet what was safe.
"Perhaps unsurprisingly," Brogan said, "catching the police report on you turned into a Type 17 Event."
Max tried to remember the jargon... Seventeen. The Star. This version of Brogan might be testing him. "An Omen of what?" Max asked.
"During my flight here to pick you up we got a call from MK-Omega. They want to put the Cadre back together."
20140329
Bifurcation
"Max, I'm being honest with you when I say that I wish we had more time to talk," she said when she returned to the room.
"I believe you, Doc. Even if you haven't believed me."
Susan paused for a moment, thoughtful. "It's not that I don't believe you... It's complicated."
"It really is. But I do want you to know that I told you the truth. I can't do that with everybody. It means that you're good at your job."
Susan stared at the man in the chair opposite her. The bandages. She had studied medicine before getting into psychiatry and she could not see how the injuries he had come in with could have been self-inflicted. The officers who had brought him in had assured her, however, that there was no evidence of any other cause at the motel. She had a fleeting inclination to drive over there herself, just to see...
"Max," she said. "I'm going to make sure that the person who is here to pick you up has my card. And if you ever want to continue our conversation, please call and make an appointment."
Max smiled. "Thanks, Dr. Longfellow."
She returned his smile. "They're just finishing up the paperwork for your release now. The nurse should be in shortly."
"Doc, can you tell me who it is? Who came to get me?"
"His name is Brogan Mirk."
Previously in the Metaplex...
"I believe you, Doc. Even if you haven't believed me."
Susan paused for a moment, thoughtful. "It's not that I don't believe you... It's complicated."
"It really is. But I do want you to know that I told you the truth. I can't do that with everybody. It means that you're good at your job."
Susan stared at the man in the chair opposite her. The bandages. She had studied medicine before getting into psychiatry and she could not see how the injuries he had come in with could have been self-inflicted. The officers who had brought him in had assured her, however, that there was no evidence of any other cause at the motel. She had a fleeting inclination to drive over there herself, just to see...
"Max," she said. "I'm going to make sure that the person who is here to pick you up has my card. And if you ever want to continue our conversation, please call and make an appointment."
Max smiled. "Thanks, Dr. Longfellow."
She returned his smile. "They're just finishing up the paperwork for your release now. The nurse should be in shortly."
"Doc, can you tell me who it is? Who came to get me?"
"His name is Brogan Mirk."
Previously in the Metaplex...
20131007
Lighting the Fuse
Max was bound to the chair; he couldn't move and if he did the wire
would cut into his skin. He sat there drenched and covered in fluid; a
pungent odor assaulted his nostrils and his wounds burned because of the
liquid.
It was gasoline.
"Are you going to talk?" Brogan asked. He sat on a stool, with a pack of wooden matches. He drew a stick and lit it.
"I have been chatting," Max replied through swollen lips. "But you are not hearing."
Brogan flicked the match at Max; the flame died out before it touched his clothes. Max didn't flicker one bit, which irked Brogan even more.
"You really don't get it," Brogan told him.
"No," Max replied. "You're the one who doesn't get it."
It was gasoline.
"Are you going to talk?" Brogan asked. He sat on a stool, with a pack of wooden matches. He drew a stick and lit it.
"I have been chatting," Max replied through swollen lips. "But you are not hearing."
Brogan flicked the match at Max; the flame died out before it touched his clothes. Max didn't flicker one bit, which irked Brogan even more.
"You really don't get it," Brogan told him.
"No," Max replied. "You're the one who doesn't get it."
20130927
Doing the Do
The moment that he walked through the door, he knew he was in big trouble. Max stood, scanning the room, noticing the devastation that was strewn about. Bodies scattered about like discarded toy soldiers after a child was bored with them.
Max made no sudden moves, since he could feel a pair of eyes on him. He would have to thank Maggie later for that gift.
"Brogan."
"Ah Max," a voice said from the shadows. "It's good to see you again."
"It's been a long while. You could have called."
"I knew if I did this that you would come." Brogan stepped from the corner; he held a device in his hands that resembled a gun. "Like a bee to pollen."
"Enough with the games, Brogan," Max said. He stood there staring at the man.
"You killed me once," Brogan said as he stepped forward. "I doubt if you can do it again. I've evolved."
20130925
Not the News to Hear Now
Washington DC, 1989
Max was munching on a hamburger when he saw the news. It was on the television up in the corner of the diner and was on low volume. But high enough just to make it out. He placed the hamburger back down on the platter and looked around the diner to see if anyone was watching the TV.
No one else was paying close attention to the event that was unfolding on the screen. Max breathed a little easier. It wasn't a big deal at the moment and maybe it could be swept under the carpet if the agency worked quickly on it.
Shit's going to fly on this one.
His cellphone chimed.
"Max," Brogan said. "Have you've seen the news?"
"Watching some of it now," Max said. "What's the plan of action?"
"It's going to be hard for the boys to cover this one up," Brogan replied. "You know who they are going to shit upon for this foul up."
"Do we have a contingency plan?" Max inquired.
"Yeah," Brogan said. "But it's still going to end badly for someone."
Max signalled the waiter for the check; he took out a crisp $20 bill and laid it on the table and got up.
"Get a chopper ready," Max said.
"Already on standby, my friend."
Max was munching on a hamburger when he saw the news. It was on the television up in the corner of the diner and was on low volume. But high enough just to make it out. He placed the hamburger back down on the platter and looked around the diner to see if anyone was watching the TV.
No one else was paying close attention to the event that was unfolding on the screen. Max breathed a little easier. It wasn't a big deal at the moment and maybe it could be swept under the carpet if the agency worked quickly on it.
Shit's going to fly on this one.
His cellphone chimed.
"Max," Brogan said. "Have you've seen the news?"
"Watching some of it now," Max said. "What's the plan of action?"
"It's going to be hard for the boys to cover this one up," Brogan replied. "You know who they are going to shit upon for this foul up."
"Do we have a contingency plan?" Max inquired.
"Yeah," Brogan said. "But it's still going to end badly for someone."
Max signalled the waiter for the check; he took out a crisp $20 bill and laid it on the table and got up.
"Get a chopper ready," Max said.
"Already on standby, my friend."
20130924
Calling Through the Statosphere
Max entered the living room from the kitchenette. He brought with him a
cup of coffee and he slid into his computer chair. He was just about to
unwind and go on a killing spree after a hard day at the office.
His phone rang.
Unknown name, unknown number, the display read.
Reluctantly he picked it up, knowing all to well that it might be a telemarketer asking him if he had received his sample of free meat, or something silly like that.
"Max?" the voice asked.
"Yes," Max replied into the phone. He was sitting at his desk. Moving the mouse over to the Gang Us Con IV icon and ready to enter a world of violence.
"I've been trying to find you for the longest time," the voice said.
"Well," Max stated. "You have found me. And who might you be?"
"Brogan Mirk," replied the voice.
"Brogan?" Max questioned; he leaned forward in his chair. A stirring of recognition washed over his face like a panama tide.
"Yeah," Brogan said. "It's been a long time friend."
His phone rang.
Unknown name, unknown number, the display read.
Reluctantly he picked it up, knowing all to well that it might be a telemarketer asking him if he had received his sample of free meat, or something silly like that.
"Max?" the voice asked.
"Yes," Max replied into the phone. He was sitting at his desk. Moving the mouse over to the Gang Us Con IV icon and ready to enter a world of violence.
"I've been trying to find you for the longest time," the voice said.
"Well," Max stated. "You have found me. And who might you be?"
"Brogan Mirk," replied the voice.
"Brogan?" Max questioned; he leaned forward in his chair. A stirring of recognition washed over his face like a panama tide.
"Yeah," Brogan said. "It's been a long time friend."
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