Chapter 4 - Holding all the Cards
By FurionTassadar
Major Tom Taredan looked into the cage at the sixteen-year-old youth that stared back at him. For a kid his age, he didn't seem shaken about his capture and subsequent imprisonment. In fact, behind his eyes, Major Taredan saw a clear and cutting intelligence, as if the boy was already figuring things out...
Taredan felt the dark presence of the man behind him before the bastard had even cleared his throat. "The resistance will more than likely attempt a rescue now," the scarred man said with a sneer. But then, thanks to the extent of the burns on the right side of the man's face, a parting gift from a Syndicate bomb years ago, the man always looked like he was partially sneering. "Make plans to have both the boy and our would-be assassin moved to more secure locations."
"Very well," Taredan said, making sure not to add a "sir" at the end. The creep might technically outrank him, but he'd be damned if he was going to show the creep any respect. At any rate, the scarred man either didn't notice or didn't care. "Why did Ozzal even authorize his capture? Isn't he a little young to be a member of the Syndicate?"
"Heh, don't let appearance fool you," the scarred man said with a sidelong glance at Taredan. "Also, his presence is necessary to facilitate the...cooperation of our guest." The scarred man grinned. A hideous sight.
Taredan scowled. "It seems too risky. You said it yourself. The resistance has even more of a reason to attack now."
"Ah, but we hold all the cards," the scarred man said as he turned and began to walk away. Taredan reluctantly followed. "Both can be used as convenient bait for a trap. Or, if worst comes to worst, they would both serve as suitable bargaining tools."
But Taredan was only half-listening. How did you get yourself into this? he thought with a sigh. He was a good man. A good soldier. He believed in keeping the peace in Actonia, no matter what. He had been around back before even Ozzal's reign, keeping things in line. But everything had gotten so much more complicated since then. He still believed that it was necessary to promote order, but even he occasionally felt that Ozzal had gone too far.
He glared at the back of the scarred man. Why were monsters like him even necessary? Ozzal had full control of the Actonia Army and the cooperation of the Actonia-Comedia National Police. But that hadn't been enough for her. Few people knew about the "Echelon." Taredan didn't even think the Syndicate knew about them. It was as if Ozzal had gathered up the worst scum in Actonia and put them to work as her personal lapdogs. The Echelon were her secret police and, more than likely, her secret weapon against the Syndicate, should she decide they were more than just an annoyance.
Hearing the scarred man clear his throat brought Taredan out of his reveries. "My apologies. You were saying?" he asked half-heartedly.
"Intelligence reports that the trolls have become more active in Sector Six again." The scarred man didn't look bothered at all by Taredan's lack of attention. In fact, he almost seemed amused, the smug bastard. "It's none of my business, but you might want to take a small division down there to clear things up."
"Damn right, it's none of your business." But he didn't say that out loud. Instead, he just sighed and mumbled noncommittally. The dang trolls were actually an experiment of Ozzal's, and that damn whacko, Matrix, that had gotten loose and procreated rapidly over the years. They were hard to kill because of their sickeningly rapid reproduction rate and their incredible regenerative powers. Their leader, Big Z, was particularly notorious for popping up when the Army least expected him...usually right after they had gotten what they hoped was a "confirmed" kill. But no...Big Z, like his people, never stayed down for very long, and they had a tendency of disrupting the natural order of things in Orly...or anywhere in Actonia, actually. All of which meant he had a lot of work ahead of him in Sector Six...
**********
Father John Sadar limped toward the small grey building, listening to the crackling sound of thunder in the distance. "A storm is coming..." he thought to himself. Sitting outside of the building was an elderly gentleman wearing a clean black suit. He looked like a nice enough old man, but many who saw him had to wonder how he had gotten that eyepatch over his left eye...
The old man looked up from his newspaper and smiled almost imperceptibly, since his bushy white mustache covered most of it. "Ah, good morning, Father Sadar!"
Father Sadar returned the smile. "Good morning, Norman." He stepped in front of the rotten brown door that led into the building. "Freeman." He said the current code.
Norman nodded. "Go right on in." He then moved his hand away from the pistol nestled in his lap, a pistol that would be hidden from the view of anyone who approached by the newspaper the old man went back to reading.
Father Sadar opened the door and stepped through. He was immediately assaulted by a thousand old smells. The smell of cheap liquor. The smell of used cigarettes. The smell of burnt gunpowder...
The inside was a mess. What was once a bar now looked like ground zero of a hurricane. Bits and pieces of trash littered the ground, along with broken pieces of glass and furniture. The only whole objects in the room were a table and a set of chairs at the far end of the room, near where the bar had been. And behind the bar, there sat a broken neon sign that spelled out "Gunsmoke Inc."...
Sadar noticed two figures near the table as he approached. He sighed. He was probably late again...
The first figure he identified as Kirara Amour, who smiled and waved at him as he approached. And the other was...
"Wyatt?" he exclaimed in pleasant surprise. "I thought you left the Syndicate for good!"
Wyatt Matthews leaned back in his chair lazily, his feet kicked up on the table. "I did. But I thought, with the situation being what it is, you might need my help.
Father Sadar rolled his eyes. Same old stubborn Wyatt. Across the table, Kirara snorted and glanced up at him. "I told you he'd be back."
"So you did." Sadar pulled a chair out and sat heavily into it. He propped his black cane up against a nearby wall. "And speaking of you, that password wouldn't happen to be your doing?"
Kirara was suddenly very interested in the grey ceiling. "Maybe..."
Father Sadar chuckled and shook his head. But then he got serious. "You know that's dangerous. The same password for three weeks in a row?"
Kirara just smiled. "Well, it's a good thing Ozzal and her men are such idiots then, eh?"
Sadar was about to retort when the side door to the building suddenly flew open, and a humanoid typhoon stepped inside.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen!" Elizabeth Saurie St. Gaurdsmen called as she stomped over to them and slammed her hands down onto the table. "Let's get down to business!" She grinned ferally.
Sadar peered around her at the open door. "I thought you were bringing Shatter and Ghost with you?"
Elizabeth sighed and sank into a nearby chair. "They couldn't come. We'll have to do it without them. Speaking of which," she glanced over at Kirara, "what are we doing?"
Kirara quickly got them up to speed about the plan to rescue Landon and Raef. Hikki's group had already hired out snipers to aid in the plan. They just needed to figure out who was going after whom. Sadar listened to all of this while reflexively stroking the brown stubble on his chin, deep in thought. He glanced at the meager force they had assembled.
"I think," Father Sadar said, "we should be the group that rescues Raef. They're bound to have more security around Landon, so Hikki's much larger team should be the ones to go after him."
"Makes sense," Elizabeth commented.
"Rescuing Raef isn't without complications, though," Kirara said. "The latest news from the inside says that they are planning to move both prisoners to more secure locations soon, starting with Raef."
"Well, we'll just have to hurry things along, won't we?" Elizabeth remarked.
Kirara nodded. "The original plan Hikki's team came up with will only work if Landon stays at the compound where Dino is, so we'll have to move before they relocate either of them."
"Just the way I like it," Elizabeth said, her hand reflexively going to one of her holstered, dual sidearms. "Fast and hard." Her feral grin had returned. Even Wyatt couldn't help but smile slightly, as well.
Always the voice of reason, Sadar spoke up. "Take it easy. That part comes later. In the beginning, we have to move, quietly, into position and then wait, quietly, for Hikki's team."
"Hmph. You know I'm not an idiot." She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Well then," Kirara said, rising from the table, "now that we've got the details worked out, let's adjourn for now. Remember, we begin in two days."
"Right." Wyatt was the next one to stand. He headed for the door without so much as a "goodbye" to anyone.
Elizabeth was next. She yawned and stretched as she got up. "Well, until then, everyone." Then, she and Kirara left, one right after the other, leaving Sadar to sit alone with his thoughts.
Truth be told, he had never met Landon. And Raef he only knew through the dead-drops that the kid occasionally made for the Syndicate...drops that his non-Syndicate mother probably knew nothing about. And yet, here he was, ready to go off and rescue total strangers. But then, that was so like him. From traveling preist, to local mercenary, to revolutionary. He was a mass of conflicting concepts. And that's just the way he liked it.
Father Sadar reached for his cane, but stood without its help. He pulled on the silver top of the cane, revealing a sword hidden within. He looked into the eyes of his reflection on the sword. "In two days...it begins."
**********
Character/Name References:
Major Tom Taredan = Metatronda (as originally envisioned by inufan)
Raef = Maenos (same as above)
The "Scarred Man" = ???? (although, if you know me, you'll figure it out )
Father John Sadar = FurionTassadar
Norman Burg = himself
Kirara Amour = kiraralove
Wyatt Matthews = Wyotech_Material
Elizabeth Saurie St. Gaurdsmen = EdSpikeSesshyGrl (get it? ESSG?...yeah, maybe I should have just called her Sesshy...)
Major Tom Taredan looked into the cage at the sixteen-year-old youth that stared back at him. For a kid his age, he didn't seem shaken about his capture and subsequent imprisonment. In fact, behind his eyes, Major Taredan saw a clear and cutting intelligence, as if the boy was already figuring things out...
Taredan felt the dark presence of the man behind him before the bastard had even cleared his throat. "The resistance will more than likely attempt a rescue now," the scarred man said with a sneer. But then, thanks to the extent of the burns on the right side of the man's face, a parting gift from a Syndicate bomb years ago, the man always looked like he was partially sneering. "Make plans to have both the boy and our would-be assassin moved to more secure locations."
"Very well," Taredan said, making sure not to add a "sir" at the end. The creep might technically outrank him, but he'd be damned if he was going to show the creep any respect. At any rate, the scarred man either didn't notice or didn't care. "Why did Ozzal even authorize his capture? Isn't he a little young to be a member of the Syndicate?"
"Heh, don't let appearance fool you," the scarred man said with a sidelong glance at Taredan. "Also, his presence is necessary to facilitate the...cooperation of our guest." The scarred man grinned. A hideous sight.
Taredan scowled. "It seems too risky. You said it yourself. The resistance has even more of a reason to attack now."
"Ah, but we hold all the cards," the scarred man said as he turned and began to walk away. Taredan reluctantly followed. "Both can be used as convenient bait for a trap. Or, if worst comes to worst, they would both serve as suitable bargaining tools."
But Taredan was only half-listening. How did you get yourself into this? he thought with a sigh. He was a good man. A good soldier. He believed in keeping the peace in Actonia, no matter what. He had been around back before even Ozzal's reign, keeping things in line. But everything had gotten so much more complicated since then. He still believed that it was necessary to promote order, but even he occasionally felt that Ozzal had gone too far.
He glared at the back of the scarred man. Why were monsters like him even necessary? Ozzal had full control of the Actonia Army and the cooperation of the Actonia-Comedia National Police. But that hadn't been enough for her. Few people knew about the "Echelon." Taredan didn't even think the Syndicate knew about them. It was as if Ozzal had gathered up the worst scum in Actonia and put them to work as her personal lapdogs. The Echelon were her secret police and, more than likely, her secret weapon against the Syndicate, should she decide they were more than just an annoyance.
Hearing the scarred man clear his throat brought Taredan out of his reveries. "My apologies. You were saying?" he asked half-heartedly.
"Intelligence reports that the trolls have become more active in Sector Six again." The scarred man didn't look bothered at all by Taredan's lack of attention. In fact, he almost seemed amused, the smug bastard. "It's none of my business, but you might want to take a small division down there to clear things up."
"Damn right, it's none of your business." But he didn't say that out loud. Instead, he just sighed and mumbled noncommittally. The dang trolls were actually an experiment of Ozzal's, and that damn whacko, Matrix, that had gotten loose and procreated rapidly over the years. They were hard to kill because of their sickeningly rapid reproduction rate and their incredible regenerative powers. Their leader, Big Z, was particularly notorious for popping up when the Army least expected him...usually right after they had gotten what they hoped was a "confirmed" kill. But no...Big Z, like his people, never stayed down for very long, and they had a tendency of disrupting the natural order of things in Orly...or anywhere in Actonia, actually. All of which meant he had a lot of work ahead of him in Sector Six...
**********
Father John Sadar limped toward the small grey building, listening to the crackling sound of thunder in the distance. "A storm is coming..." he thought to himself. Sitting outside of the building was an elderly gentleman wearing a clean black suit. He looked like a nice enough old man, but many who saw him had to wonder how he had gotten that eyepatch over his left eye...
The old man looked up from his newspaper and smiled almost imperceptibly, since his bushy white mustache covered most of it. "Ah, good morning, Father Sadar!"
Father Sadar returned the smile. "Good morning, Norman." He stepped in front of the rotten brown door that led into the building. "Freeman." He said the current code.
Norman nodded. "Go right on in." He then moved his hand away from the pistol nestled in his lap, a pistol that would be hidden from the view of anyone who approached by the newspaper the old man went back to reading.
Father Sadar opened the door and stepped through. He was immediately assaulted by a thousand old smells. The smell of cheap liquor. The smell of used cigarettes. The smell of burnt gunpowder...
The inside was a mess. What was once a bar now looked like ground zero of a hurricane. Bits and pieces of trash littered the ground, along with broken pieces of glass and furniture. The only whole objects in the room were a table and a set of chairs at the far end of the room, near where the bar had been. And behind the bar, there sat a broken neon sign that spelled out "Gunsmoke Inc."...
Sadar noticed two figures near the table as he approached. He sighed. He was probably late again...
The first figure he identified as Kirara Amour, who smiled and waved at him as he approached. And the other was...
"Wyatt?" he exclaimed in pleasant surprise. "I thought you left the Syndicate for good!"
Wyatt Matthews leaned back in his chair lazily, his feet kicked up on the table. "I did. But I thought, with the situation being what it is, you might need my help.
Father Sadar rolled his eyes. Same old stubborn Wyatt. Across the table, Kirara snorted and glanced up at him. "I told you he'd be back."
"So you did." Sadar pulled a chair out and sat heavily into it. He propped his black cane up against a nearby wall. "And speaking of you, that password wouldn't happen to be your doing?"
Kirara was suddenly very interested in the grey ceiling. "Maybe..."
Father Sadar chuckled and shook his head. But then he got serious. "You know that's dangerous. The same password for three weeks in a row?"
Kirara just smiled. "Well, it's a good thing Ozzal and her men are such idiots then, eh?"
Sadar was about to retort when the side door to the building suddenly flew open, and a humanoid typhoon stepped inside.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen!" Elizabeth Saurie St. Gaurdsmen called as she stomped over to them and slammed her hands down onto the table. "Let's get down to business!" She grinned ferally.
Sadar peered around her at the open door. "I thought you were bringing Shatter and Ghost with you?"
Elizabeth sighed and sank into a nearby chair. "They couldn't come. We'll have to do it without them. Speaking of which," she glanced over at Kirara, "what are we doing?"
Kirara quickly got them up to speed about the plan to rescue Landon and Raef. Hikki's group had already hired out snipers to aid in the plan. They just needed to figure out who was going after whom. Sadar listened to all of this while reflexively stroking the brown stubble on his chin, deep in thought. He glanced at the meager force they had assembled.
"I think," Father Sadar said, "we should be the group that rescues Raef. They're bound to have more security around Landon, so Hikki's much larger team should be the ones to go after him."
"Makes sense," Elizabeth commented.
"Rescuing Raef isn't without complications, though," Kirara said. "The latest news from the inside says that they are planning to move both prisoners to more secure locations soon, starting with Raef."
"Well, we'll just have to hurry things along, won't we?" Elizabeth remarked.
Kirara nodded. "The original plan Hikki's team came up with will only work if Landon stays at the compound where Dino is, so we'll have to move before they relocate either of them."
"Just the way I like it," Elizabeth said, her hand reflexively going to one of her holstered, dual sidearms. "Fast and hard." Her feral grin had returned. Even Wyatt couldn't help but smile slightly, as well.
Always the voice of reason, Sadar spoke up. "Take it easy. That part comes later. In the beginning, we have to move, quietly, into position and then wait, quietly, for Hikki's team."
"Hmph. You know I'm not an idiot." She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Well then," Kirara said, rising from the table, "now that we've got the details worked out, let's adjourn for now. Remember, we begin in two days."
"Right." Wyatt was the next one to stand. He headed for the door without so much as a "goodbye" to anyone.
Elizabeth was next. She yawned and stretched as she got up. "Well, until then, everyone." Then, she and Kirara left, one right after the other, leaving Sadar to sit alone with his thoughts.
Truth be told, he had never met Landon. And Raef he only knew through the dead-drops that the kid occasionally made for the Syndicate...drops that his non-Syndicate mother probably knew nothing about. And yet, here he was, ready to go off and rescue total strangers. But then, that was so like him. From traveling preist, to local mercenary, to revolutionary. He was a mass of conflicting concepts. And that's just the way he liked it.
Father Sadar reached for his cane, but stood without its help. He pulled on the silver top of the cane, revealing a sword hidden within. He looked into the eyes of his reflection on the sword. "In two days...it begins."
**********
Character/Name References:
Major Tom Taredan = Metatronda (as originally envisioned by inufan)
Raef = Maenos (same as above)
The "Scarred Man" = ???? (although, if you know me, you'll figure it out )
Father John Sadar = FurionTassadar
Norman Burg = himself
Kirara Amour = kiraralove
Wyatt Matthews = Wyotech_Material
Elizabeth Saurie St. Gaurdsmen = EdSpikeSesshyGrl (get it? ESSG?...yeah, maybe I should have just called her Sesshy...)