Pretty please

Got a letter. Jimmy wrote. Awesome assignment, it seems.

One sentence has me tingling all over. And yeah, i don't give a fuck how that sounds. But who could resist something like that:

"Whether he is killed or captured is not
critical, but I would prefer him to be killed 
where the gangers can see him squeel."

He, being a former Ganger and now big time-sheriff, is one hell of a target. I'd love to put him on a nice podestal, Leofwyre on watch, Pointy as a shield, Leo as one badass stay-away-..."sign" and work on him. Can't wait.

Mission #6. Bloody Mess.

You can call me extraordinary. Yeah, you heard right, that's what people've been calling me lately. Well, not just me. Turns out, me, Pointy and Tool Kit are the hot shit in town. I don't like it. I sure am not the only guy with horns and a set of spurs. But the three of us? One huge troll, one pair of Pointies, acompanied by one Human? Pretty easy to spot. I don't like being easy to spot.

Its been three and a half weeks, when Pointy calls. Wants money. Didn't even mention the russion bribe money I kept. I was almost ready to give him the thirty K. But he didn't even try to convince me. I didn't play that hard to get. Sooner or later Leo texts: Meet at the Fat Turk at 400 hours. Some kind of concert. Poetry Slam going on. Meaning: A bunch of suits is nodding to a guy reciting the uglyness of the world while they're having champagne and kaviar.

Jimmy says, he needs back up. Rescue a dude who worked for lone star, undercover op. He got lost, sorta. Lost contact two days ago. Wants him out. Vegas is to assist us, of course. Analogue this time. Meaning: he's actually with us with us. We head to some adress in the slums. We have to walk. Vegas stays behind and I put Leofwyre on guard.

As soon as we enter east L.A. it's desert Island again. Barricaded houses. Rough roads. Everybody's staring at us. At some point between two disctricts, there are snipers on the roof, three guys in an empty bus: Pointy ears, a bunch of them. It's my lucky day. I shoot one guy and hack away the other. Cut his head off. Leo and Aaron take care of others. The three bastards in the bus try to shoot me. One if them actually hits his target. The guys on the roof shoot us, I spray the last one standing up there. By then the bus explodes and destroys the left overs.

The next area is troll controled. Since pointy's still invisible, it just takes me a couple of fist bumps and friendly grins to get through. One of them's kind enough to warn us about finger wrigglers in the Crypt King's. I shrug, give them a nod and roll my eyes towards Leo. They get the "Thanks mate, but today I don't really have a choice."

The King's territory fits it's label. It's like a grave yard around here. There's some tiny figure, whimpering and shivering. Leo pokes it. The thing jumps up, grenade at the ready hand and tries to attack him. Again, we prove our awesomness. The three of us acting almost flawless. Aaron takes down the figure, its all but dust in the wind.

If you think, that's weird, wait for whats up next. There are stranges noises coming from everywhere. Then actual zombies are appearing at every corner. Each and every friggin one of them is holding a fucking grenade. Aaron kills them with one flash bang. still, one of the grenades pops. I spot another zombie and pop it as well.

Cumbrously enough, there are some of the bastards left. Pointy recues me from one of them. I am still trying not to let that get to me. I catch another and it tries to bite me. He gnaws at my amour. Kidding me? Kidding me. 

But I want a closer look: They have cuts all over them. Bleeding cuts. Leo catches one, calls Jimmy, and manages to take pictures from the zombie he keeps dangling at arms length. Friggin blood mage's business all over again. SWATs on its way. Vegas announces two choppers.

We manage to head down to a building, it's surrounded by a gate. Remember the TWD episodes in and around the prison? Greens between fences? Well. You get the picture. Tool Kit plays the decoy, starts jogging around the area, luring the horde away from the main entrance. He drops his mini welder, so we can get through.

Inside there's nothing, but another room. Aaron says the fucking bloodmage's still alive. And in there. Along with the hostage. He peeks in there through the astro but when he comes back he has a really weird look on his face as he looks at me. Weirder than ususal, I mean. And as soon as he spots me he starts to wriggle his fingers. Hell no. I step on his hand, trying to be gentle. Pull him up, lock his hands behind his back with one hand, click my gun in place. I bust down the door, try to keep a wriggling Aaron out of harms way on my left, behind the frame. You can call me cutie pie. Spray all my ammo at the fucker in the room. I kill the ugly mage or whatever's left of him. But he hits me bad. One of my horns on fire. My armor is nothing but bits and pieces, hanging from my torso in shreds. Jimmy'll receive yet another bill.

As soon as the bastard's out, Aaron comes back. And complains, of course, since his smoking, battered comrad still has him in a dead grip. In the room along with now hopefully dead … thing-that-used-to-be the fitness model there is one human. Attached to machines, which pump blood through him. I grab a couple of blood bags since we don't want to un-hook him from the whatever and we go back outside. The choppers arrive. At the sight of the blood donor one of the crew dudes throws up right at my feet. If my horn wouldn't still be glowing I'd smash his head in right now. Give him some'n real to remember. Whoever is responsible for human resources really needs to rethink his emmo.

Fat Turkey, whisky on the way. I've earned that. Leo's drunk. It's seven in the morning. Jimmy's making coffee. And serves a bottle of the finest. Pour the scotch in my coffee.

Along with 28.000 and the Amber, Jimmy serves the latest gossip: we're becoming a local legend. There's no name yet. No real one, at least. Because: The Wolf Hunters. Seriously?

New Truck.

Since my truck got ripped apart by the grillmaster himself on the last mission, I had to find a new set of wheels. And since Jimmy-the-Boss would pay for it, I was looking for some special, of course. 

I am now the very satisfied owner of a brand new GMC Bulldog Step Van.

That's how it looks. On the outside. Well, sorta.

I did the paint job myself. And the interiors. Compared to my last truck , this is Leofwyre's huge, badass brother on six wheels. Looks like shit, but of course, that's the idea.

Three really really comfy front seats, bullet proof glass, full armor plate and weapon mount come along with the standard model.That's what Jimmy's paying for. All the alterations I payed for myself. There's a smuggling compartment: Pointy would fit in there - me? not so much. I also built in a morphing license plate, spoof chips, completely sound proof walls along with LED squares to make it look like there are windows. From the inside. I can program them to look like day or night or even sound like it's raining outside. Trafficnoises or complete silence or a dog barking in the distance... everything's possible. And there's still enough room enough for, say, Tool Kit's bike, along with hooks, chains and clamps to hold it in place.The bike, I mean.

I haven't decided on the kind of weaponry yet. 

And I can't wait to see the look on Leo's and Aaron's face...

Mission #5. Out for Blood

I am wondering if anyone remembers this song. It must be a hundred years old, and it somehow fits part of this story. If you turn the song upside down, that is. .Or at least our Jolene was as arrogant as the pretty one with auburne hair and emerald eyes probably was.

Only two days since we rescued Vegas, Leo calls and summons us on Jimmy's behalf. We meet again at the Fat Turkey. Coffee! Need I say more. There's no parking by yourself. Makes you feel all special. Two trolls who're not very fond of your's truly. Jimmy says he owns us a milk run. 1500 per day for watching „a friend“. A friend who's married. Since the friend believes her affair is having an affair she asked Jimmy to have her lover followed. Mexican fitness model. Classic PI work. We are not to „spook him“. Jimmy's all casual this time. No rush. „Don't kill him.“ „I'll try.“ … So we are on the lookout for one Miguel Caballero, lives in Santa Monica. Sure doesn't look like he would've only one girl friend. You get the picture.

Stake out. We set it all up. Cameras, Leofwyr, I check out the area, as always. Not long and the guy heads to some gated community. Leo sends a flying eye flying.

Woman in her midfourties. Opens the door, barely covered in something flouncy and frail. Well. We watch the happy couple for a week. The 1500 per day keep me quiet, and before I start complaining and whining in excruciating boredom, he changes his playboy-, makes-me-gag-routine of working out, eating healthy and having sex.

One morning there's no healthy food, no sports, but meditation. Aaron checks out the place. What he tells us is really really creepy. Images of an Aztec temple, blood all over the walls, screaming coming from every direction. Leo says, Miguel wiped away a bloody tear. Could be a mage, a friggin blood mage.

We call Jimmy. He's all „ohs“ and „umpfs“.

So there's a new task. One very much to my liking. If he turns out to be bloodlusty?: burn down his house. Kill him and his friends. Burn everything he's touched. If he is, SWAT is on standby. Awesome.

If he's not: Don't kill him. Crystal.

His mates arrive in the evening, they pull the blinders. Leo has a microphone. They're chanting in aztec. This is friggin weird. And as much as i need some action, i don't like it. The executive pulls up and enters. Leo wants to unlock the door. Aaron spots a fire spirit, Leo tries to escape, barely manages.

Leofwyr does no damage either. But it takes a couple hits from me. And then this stupid mega torch attacks my car. Rips it apart. Now I am angry. Leofwyr and I attack it full force. It dies right there on the spot. We head to the door. I take it down. It's ugly inside. Three men wrestle with the executive. Circle of blood. Some altar thingy. Six men do the choirboy-routine. Leofwyr kills one of the wrestlers. I slice up the other with one hand, pull the feisty lady behind my back with the other. She kicks the guy Leo shot in the kidneys. The second they're down, the choirboys stop chanting, open their eyeys, look at us, start chanting a different tune. Leo throws a flashbang. They are out cold.

Miguel is up and running. The fucker's turned invisible. I jump out, see some foot prints in the sand. The manhunt becomes a jogging exercise. I spray the air with a couple rounds. He yelps. And looses blood. Lots. Leo catches up. takes the lead since he follows the blood trail. One of the bullets must have knicked a very important artery.

While I can hear Pointy whining about not wanting to slash the boyband's throats we track him to some alley and he's trapped. He hits us with some fire bomb. Leo throws a grenade. The alley pretty much implodes. The house burned down just fine either.

20 K each. And a favour. Well ... Jimmy actually suggests we got lucky with saarebas. Tool kit and Pointy try to reason with me. Well. Ol' mcNullty will receive the bill for a brand new truck. With armor.

Mission #4. Babycakes On the Clock.

Well. Couple of decent coffees, some worthless bling and some cash aren't worth mentioning. Almost. The adrenalin rush that came with the last assignment, on the other hand, is. But it was the only thing fun. The action itself wouldn't be worth mentioning either.

Jimmy called, at one point. After four weeks. Bummer. I picked up pointy. We meet tool kit and Jimmy at some upscale bar slash coffee house. The boss is kinda in a hurry. 21 K each for a get in, grab, get out-job: There's a bank robbery going on right now. And of course there is someone as well as something in that very building. Both of which we are supposed to aquire. In a very discret way. And in thirty minutes, tops.

Jimmy sets us up with intel on the swat team, we are connected to their communication. So before we go in or decide on anything we learn that there are at least ten hostages, maybe thirty. And at least five attackers. The someone, is, hold your breath, Vegas. Remember him? Anyway, there are two ways in, the roof and the sewer system. The mage inside has spirits patrol the area. Four humans.

So we head down to the sewers where Leo disables their getaway bomb. While we're at it, he suggests a subtle way to contact Vegas first, to find out where he's at exactly.

„OMW babycakes, where are you? ;)“

Vegas' answer is quick: „On the first, behind a cactus.“

What an image. I am smirking even now.

Pointy summons a spirit who digs a tunnel. Quite impressive. But as always: Wriggly fingers creep me out. Of course anybody can pull a trigger. But with pointy? I'd like to go out in style, some day. Not by some weirdo who spikes my mind. Plants thoughts inside my head.

Few seconds later a stony spirit appears down the tunnel. This is just great. It tries to fucking eat us. And apparently I'm looking the most delicious today; it goes for me first. I barely manage to throw it away. Leo cuts off one ear. It's Aaron who takes it out with style. The spirit on our payroll finishes the whole and I give Leo a boost up there, he ties the rope, we follow.

The voult door is barely closed and the place is ransacked. There's somebody out in the hall. Leo sneaks up to him but quikly draws attention. Everything's happening fast. The guy launches a grenade and attempts to kill not only himself. I was on my way over there, but hafta stop dead midrun. Aaron knocks him out cold. Again. This is getting boring. Leo throws the badass into the vault. Kaboom.

Time is running out. I pop some kamikaze. Next room there are four hostages. I sneak into the lobby, get a closer look. There are three guys on guard duty. One troll with shiny horns. Glowy eyes. Tattoos. Seriously!? Well trained body as well. He is not in such a good shape as I am, of course. Shotgun in one hand, sword in the other.

There are four plants in the entrance hall, one in each corner of the room. And we can't see Vegas anywhere. Since we kaboomed one of the security guys, the left overs over here are just a tiny bit startled. One of them is about to head down to the vault.

Vegas begins to text panic-fuelled. I have to include this here: 

Vegas: They are coming to the basement!!! 

Leo: We are upstairs already, no worries. 

Vegas: :) 

Leo: executive office. or financial or whatevs 

Vegas: Do you have the chip

Leo: The one you were supposed to steal? 

Vegas: It was in my bag. They took it to the basement.

At this point a very annoyed Aaron mouthes what crosses my very annoyed mind: What a fuckup. 

Leo: left or right plant when you enter? 

Vegas: The one on the right. The big prickly one.

Turns out, Vegas not only lost what he came here for, he's also tied up and blindfolded. This is awesome. So there's no getting him outta there by some of pointy's tricks. We don't have time to be smart asses about this. The swat team outside is getting impatient. Flashy spots us. Spirit manifests in the room.

We take down the mage, strangely – easy enough. The last one present of the security minimes surrenders. And refuses to tell me where his colleagues are. Since Leo and Aaron are the one pulling the shots here, literally, this is getting more and more annoying.

After Leo set Vegas free with a „'Sup babycakes?“ we head back downstairs. Time to leave, the swat is getting really antsy by now. They heard us on the surveillance.

Seems I am not myself today. I barely hit the troll, who's not exactly the smallest target I ever aimed at. 'tis the same with the guy in the basement.

Of course we leave safe and sound with the packages. And the loot. Aaron calls Jimmy. Meeting point is some coffee shop in Beverly Hills. Vegas is not so happy about us taking him to Jimmy's. I cuff him and I don't give a fuck that this won't keep him from fucking with me.… yeah. I am that pissed.

At least The Fat Turky has real coffee. With my performance today, this is only cold comfort. But since the only thing better than some black and strong is some amber and stronger it'll hafta do.

Jimmy's pleased, but „Good work, Dudes“, seriously!? Who cares. It's a thousand each from the bags and the 21K.

Water Down The River

Its December. Almost christmas. Or whatever people celebrate these days. Did some training the last couple weeks. Fighting, combat training. Met some old colleagues. None of them had any work though. McNullty hasn't called so far. I haven't spend much of the money, since I am not stupid.

I wonder what pointy and tool kit are up to these days. Probably getting wasted and/or lost with some spell books or spirits hop hop or whatnot.








 

Mission #3. The Silver Bullet.

Killed a werewolf. A friggin furry beast. Suppose I have to reconsider my list of most unwanted creatures. Anything pointy is #two from now on. Arrogant sonovabitch. Didn't like his silver, though. So the fairy tales are indeed correct.

Anyhoo. Jimmy. Jimmy McNullty. Old McDonald had a farm. Heeyah-heeyah-ho. … I feel Indiana-Jonish. So I still am a wee bit beside my usual, great self. Should've kept some whisky around. I'd give Leofwyr's left leg for a bottle of a decent malt right now. Thank the gods he can't read this. I think he'll be pissed.

We met Jimmy couple days ago, november 20^th. In a bar which is called Home of the Brave. No shit. … How am I supposed to write this shit down, when alomst every detail is an invite to be … whatever. 

Jimmy is late. The meet finally takes palce in the vip section. He says he requires „professional assistance“. Says he doesnt need killers. Says he needs men who are able to do dangerous stuff discretely. I should staple my right eyebrow to my receding hairline. 

The target's name rolls right of your tongue. Hosé Carrero. Carrero is retired, allegedly, and was last located in NorCalina. I remember some of it. Supposed to be sort of place for the retired. 

Jimmy wants Hosé. Alive. Wants to ask him some questions. We're supposed to get him. But without any info on his emmo, his whereabouts, his contacts, his whatever. We leave with nothing but the labels „assassin“ and „big shot“. Our contact is a hacker, again. Vegas. 

Redding looks like A Fistful Dollars meets TWD. Electricity off, stations for horses, you name it. Our first stop is a drug store. A literal one. „The Land of the Free“. Leo and Aaron do the talking here. I cover the exit but in the end I tend to be curious so I take a look around. One jar says „The Yellow Brick Road“. I. am. Not. Kidding.

This place (Redding, not the store) is run by two groups. The elves and the Chinese Triad. Since I am not very fond of pointies, I stay in the car while Leo and Aaron go talk to them.

One of the Jacked Ups tells Aaron, that Hosé fucked up the chinese. Killed bout 50 guys. We decide to set up surveillance at the free country. So its hide and seek for a while. Until there's a big van. We wait until everybodys gone. There is some wolf thingy in the basement. Aaron doesn't like it. This looks like some worship place. I remember something liek this. Lone Star had this incident. Dozens of agents dead.

So we have to deal with a werewolf. Awesome. We need silver. Vegas helps us out. He doesnt want anything in return. This is weird. He even has some spanish dude with a workshop on speed dial. Leo manages to manufacture some silver bullets. And a collar and handcuffs as well. Sweet. Can't wait to force these things on Hosé el Lobo. We go to the plantation. I send Leofwyr out first to have a look. It's a full moon. Of course it is. 

Leo and i take out the two smokes on the back stairs. The second Hosé begins ti change Aaron confuses him. I slap the collar around his neck. „You have the right to remain silent.“ Ha Ha. Aaron's spirit just swallows one of the guys on Werewolf's security detail. I call for Lofwyr. He sends the second guy to nirvana while I knock out the no-wolf-anymore. We head back to the shop. Grenade the wolf head thingy. Aaron's really not fine here. Tries to destroy the left over thingy with a huge spell. Fails. Melts the floor. Leo shoots it with a shrug of his shoulders and another silver bullet.