You Can't Leave Kingdom Come... (IC)

[Kagetora]

Off the coast of Kagetora

A lone helicopter flew over the choppy waves of the Tokugawa Sea. Storm clouds had opened up, and rain prevented a view of the gray waters. The co-pilot looked over his shoulder at the people he was flying to the Keiji Kyōsei Shisetsu, and frowned. These people were crazy! No one ever went to the KKS unless they were either mentally ill or sadistic.

Switching his headgear so he could talk only to his partner, he wondered aloud,
"What exactly are we taking these people to the crazy-house for?"

The pilot either didn't remember or didn't bother to change his own frequency, and replied.
"Apparently someone escaped."

"I know that! But that person probably drowned in the waters."

"KPT obviously doesn't think so."

"Well waste of time it seems like to me. Just a bunch of crazy social figures."

"I doubt they're all that crazy. They seem scared if anything."

The pilot looked back at the passengers, and announced over the radio, "This is Kempeitai Airlines, we're nearing the destination. I hope you've all enjoyed your flight."

Returning his gaze forward, just in time to see lightning flash across the sky, he shivered. Even though he showed up once a month, the compound which he was flying towards still scared him. Something just wasn't right about the place. The concrete walls and iron bars seemed unnecessary, as the entire island was prison in and of itself. Surrounded by miles of freezing water, prisoners really had no chance of escape even if they did manage to get past the armed guards.

With a silent sigh, he finally spotted the old lighthouse that was one of only three buildings on the entire island. With a shudder, he saw that the light was out.

[The Halseyist Faction]

Miss Flashwater, or Alison, as some daring sole might one day think of calling her, clasped her hands gently before her as she survayed the uninteresting view with her brown eyes. It had been an althogether uninteresting trip, one she was making for reasons that did not entirely convince her. It all began some years back, when she had first arrived for her assignment in the local nation. Spying was a long and deary process, full of observation, note taking, and study. A suitable cover had needed to be arranged for her study of the local government, and unlike normal inflitration proceadures, there had been no suitable candidates for assisination and replacement and no opening jobs in suitable postions. So she had been forced to improvise, becoming what dramatic people might call a 'private eye' a self contained investigatory service, whoring herself out to the dull, the stupid and the unimaginative and anyone else who wasn't capable of solving there own problems, providing them with a touch of her own brilliance. In exchanged, she gained her cover. The perfect excuse for being seen anywhere, at any time, "Investigating" things.

And so, she was here, "Investigating" this latest patch of craziness. It had started off promisingly, a disspearence, a mysterious government island. The rain took from that somewhat, and the bunch of undesirables who also seemed interested in the mystery took from it still. It would be inconvience if the trip turned into nothing more than a long waste of her time, a futile search for a non-existance insane member of this backwards cluture. But yet the possibility of exitement remained, and if nothing else, it was a break from the traditional.

Lifting her gaze from the window now, she unclasped her hands and raised a pale finger to brush some of her conspicious red hair away from her vision, gaze lingering in turn on each of her rival investigators, wondering silently at their personalities and motivations. The hair, a dramatic, but yet natural shade, helped her stand out in a crowd, the exact opposite of what intellegence agents aimed for, and as such the perfect way not to be thought of in that capacity.

[Heaven Hieghts]

Florian had been seated near a window much to his liking. He'd always enjoyed being in planes, especially when he could look out at what was below them. This however was not as entertaining as he would have hoped. As a child while he was under the care of Dr. Comfromski he'd traveled a great deal for educational and recreational reasons. He never particularly liked Comfromski but he liked to travel, he could remember sitting in his seat on the planes they took to various places, Nataliea or where ever, he'd always fidget and squirm and often give Comfromski a glare for supposedly dragging him to an intolerable place on an intolerable plane. This was never true of course, Comfromski knew better than to believe Florian in his anger. He'd only done this because of his hate for the Doctor and his syndicate knowing what they'd done to him and his sister. Though the doctor was kind to Florian in spite of this and did his best to raise him.

Such satisfaction he'd gotten from the Revolt and the Non Verus's actions, though this was heavily out weighed for the lose of his sister, Faustine, was almost to great to bear. She'd been held as a martyr by the new Currousian Government due to Marius's and Conlan's efforts. During this time, Florian had locked himself in her residence and hadnt come out for nearly a week after that day. After he'd taken his place as general after Marius had coaxed him into it and he'd done his best to right the issues and find common ground with the neighboring enemy of Havkiana. He'd been fairly successful in this and the Havkianian officials and he, Marius and other officials of the new government had signed a peace treaty. Trade soon picked back up with the re-opening of the deep water port Monouska and the economy made its way back up the scale. Of course arms manufacturing went down with the war's end but it would never stop completely, it never did. There were always wars and Currouse had always been the leading supplier in those wars. He'd been glad to see the country be restored to its original glory and he knew that Marius would be an excellent leader. Conlan would make a an excellent general as well, better than Florian would have been though he knew Marius wanted him to be in that position.

Marius wanted him close and he made that clear. He knew why, and it was a good reason. Marius had loved his sister though she'd never quite returned this and because of this Florian wasnt the only one to suffer from her death. Many had in fact, not only her close friends but others that had never met her. Marius had believed that if Florian had stayed then perhaps the pain would be lessened knowing he'd been so close with her. Florian couldnt take to stay in that country, he had to leave and wait until it didnt hurt as bad. Marius had told him that he'd always be welcomed back and he was sure that perhaps some day he'd return. Some day.

Conlan had been one of them to suffer this, having been a good friend of hers during the war. "Aeria Gloris." He'd said at her memorial whilst looking over her pale corpse that lay in a dark wood coffin. Florian stood next to him at that moment, along with Marius who hadnt spoken a single word all day save for his eulogy. Florian hadnt made one, he knew he wouldnt be able to keep his composure long enough for that. Hell, he'd hardly been able to just listen. They preformed a traditional Currousian ceremony like they used to in when Currouse had been ruled by Kings and Queens. He liked to think that she would have liked that, knowing she'd fiercely supported the ways of old. There were so many people there too, hundreds had attended, all of those who'd supported the rebels but were too afraid to say so.

At least there was peace in spite of these losses, the people of Currouse would no longer suffer from the Rhosians' corruption.

They have peace and now I suffer. He thought begrudgingly and opened his eyes. Florian pushed those thoughts out his head knowing he should no longer dwell upon it.

He opened his eyes and looked back out the window at the churning waters below. They were much like that of his home, save for less ice. His thoughts switched to the current investigation ahead of him. This was going to be an interesting one that was for sure, probably why he was the one who got put on it. Damn publicity, it certainly had been a pain of late (a few people had approached him on the street saying things like "Hey, aren't you..." and "Wow, you certainly look different on camera", highly irritating none the less). Looking through the window at an angle so he could just barely see the island, he studied it carefully. How fortificated it was seemed a little unnecessary but he supposed he wouldnt be able to make a good assessment until he got in.

Florian's sky blue eyes drifted over the other investigators including the one next to him. They were certainly an interesting bunch and upon thinking about this he realized how highly illogical it was to send so many. Which also made him wonder why Nataliea had decided he needed to go as well. Nataliae wasnt exactly the sort of nation that would do that, she was small having originally being a territory of Currouse and was often over looked by most diplomatic big-wigs.

He looked back out the window and sighed. This was going to be an awfully long trip.

[Kovasckitz]

Leegis pulled up his slipping scarf and reposistioned himself in his seat. The ride to the island was taking long enough, but the view of the ocean was calming. Being sent here, though, wasn't what he wanted to be doing, he'd rather stick to nailing the crooks back in the homeland who could outsmart the local police. But, being on a government payroll, he might as well do what they say. He was being payed enough to go on the trip, and how hard could it be to find an escaped crazy on a tiny island? The sooner this was over with, the better. He took another glance around the group of investigators on the chopper. None of them looked like they were the "best of the best", as he had been reasured, but looks could be decieving. He pulled at the scarf covering his deformities again, and setteled in for the ride.

[Tanaara]

Mahree was slender enough to not mind being in a middle seat of the helicopter. She enjoyed flying. The rain obscured any remaining view though and she had pulled out her Lenovo X60 II tablet pc and was involved in making a note for her personal journal. This had been her habit for years and while her memory had be well nigh eidetic from the start, years of training had enhanced it, and the detailed journals just provided ‘written’ back up.

At the moment her fingers were flashing over the keypad at 120 wpm, as she set down her detailed visual observations of her fellow passengers – she had not bothered to introduce herself, nor even spoken to any of the others – no one else had - and she was never inclined to make idle chit- chat. Yes her name was idle chit-chat in her estimation.

Her next entry covered the helicopter, the weather and other persons of interest that had crossed her path since the last update she had made.

Once that was done, she stowed the computer back in its armored case and quickly opened a compact to check on her appearance. Her dark honey hair was settled nicely but she pulled out her ‘barely there’ lip gloss and reapplied. She always tried to look discretely and tastefully made- up. Folding the compact and tucking it away she looked down to make sure her Burberry was uncrumpled. The one she currently wore over her pants suite happened to be a double breasted raincoat with a detachable mink warmer. She preferred warmer weather than they were currently flying through.

She noticed the red headed woman taking her own observations and met the look with one of her own. Her faces, and especially her eyes, were serene - and as blank as a pre-eminent gamblers would be. It was a trait she cultivated, and used especially around outsiders. She preferred hiding her lively and alert curiosity from stranger. Mahree didn’t make friends easily and didn’t believe she would here. She didn't consider any of them rivals, she didn't consider this a contest - but while she knew that working as a team would probably solve the mystery in a faster and safer - she had no idea if any would be willing to work as a team.

[Acacia Heights Records]

The crash of lightning caused Mira Velasquez to jump, and her hands shot out and grasped Marcus Rodgers'. I can't believe Marcus thinks this case is a good idea, she thought, more worried than angry.

As private investigators, she and Rodgers had seen "it all," but something about searching for a maniac on an island full of maniacs had her nervous.

Rodgers patted Mira's hands. He was enjoying this rather unconventional flight. He always enjoyed putting his life on the line, which was part of the reason he had decided to double-cross Acacia's FBI and help an infamous hacker by the name of T. Spencer Holmes, which was part of the reason he was on the FBI's hit list. Not that they would attempt to take him out. They desperately needed a few good hackers on their side, or relatively close to it.

He gazed at the island as they approached. There wasn't much to see through the grey weather, but there was much to feel. There was the heaviness of the atmosphere outside and below, and the tension inside their craft between the stranger investigators, whom he hoped he could rely on as contemporaries as much as competitors. If not, he had no qualms about working alone with Mira. Or about "challenging" some of the opposition.

Meanwhile, Mira observed their fellow investigators. The women seemed to have noticed each other. Mira shrunk back from view and tucked her hands back into her lap. How odd we must look, Mira realized. The man in the black suit and sunglasses when there was barely any light outside. And she in a baby-blue blouse and khakis, with dark brown hair. The point had been to keep the others from guessing that they were a unit- a unit, not a couple- and as for the sunglasses, Rodgers preferred to keep his thoughts hidden behind dark frames, though those deep green eyes of his could lie with unsettling accuracy.

As if reading her thoughts- and they had been together so long, perhaps he could- Rodgers took off the sunglasses and tucked them into an inside pocket. But he kept his eyes on the growing island below.

[Goias]

Three days ago

Planes are inherently boring means of transport, but after a few trips a certain question will inevitably appear. Which plane trips are more boring - those over the continent or those over the sea? Over the continent at least you can get some variety of landscape if you decide to venture into staring out the window. The sea? Just an endless mass of blue liquid, meeting a giant mass of blue known as the atmosphere at some point on the horizon.

This was the bad luck of Flight 625, taken off from Tanán and destined to Kagetora, flying a direct route over the ocean. The flight's duration was listed on the huge screen in the airport and the TV screens in the actual plane periodically showed how long it would be until they would make the destination. But as far as the passengers were concerned, it might as well have been "too goddamn long". They'd been in the air since lunchtime and the sun had set long ago. Luckily for them, the plane was approaching Kagetora.

Most of the passengers were either spacing out, minding their own business or attempting to fight off boredom through conversation. Among them was Joanne Pasenki. No one had noticed her since she was occupying the rear-most seat all by herself. Apart from a few responses to the flight attendants' questions, she had not spoken at all throughout the flight. At the moment she was sitting with her arms crossed, staring out the window at nothing in particular. To an outside observer she might have appeared peaceful, even serene (or just asleep) - this was mostly down to the fact that she stood almost perfectly still and hadn't moved a centimetre since she ate the airline-provided lunch. She was dressed in a typical business suit - shirt, tie, suit, dress - with her trenchcoat rumpled on the seat next to her.

This was officially a 'vacation', but Joanne didn't even bother pretending to look like she was on one. That's because it wasn't - the briefing earlier had made this clear. For reasons she was still in the dark about, she was assigned to a peculiar case. Her first assignment, get into Kagetora and wait. An average person would immediately turn suspicious and demand more info, but Joanne didn't. It was obvious why this was the entire first assignment: Goias' intelligence agency were trying once again to hide their status as incompetent money-wasters. It was so patently obvious that she hadn't even bothered to consider any other explanation, and she even asked her boss upfront if this was due to faulty intelligence. The woman had no choice but to sigh and quietly confirm it. What was the point of keeping a secret if it was an open one already?

A few minutes later, Flight 625 started its descent and eventually landed on the international airport of Edo. The passengers began retrieving their belongings and formed a line towards the plane's exit. They were then driven into the actual airport, where they formed a queue to get their passports checked. Joanne was, as usual, the last in line when it was her turn to hand over her passport. The person checking it did not make any eye contact at all throughout the process, giving off a vibe of soul-crushing boredom that sprung from the sheer monotony of his line of work. Finally, he handed Joanne her passport back.

After some time spent completing the insidiously overfamiliar process (or has it become a ritual by now?) of retrieving her belongings and attending to other personal needs, Joanne exited the airport, dragging her luggage behind her with one hand and carrying her additional clothes in the other. The weather outside was mild and slightly favourable - it wasn't raining or excessively windy or anything too upsetting, just somewhat cold and mildly windy. Joanne buttoned her trenchcoat, put on her hat and walked to the nearest means of transportation from the airport to the city. She had been ordered to get here and wait for her next assignment and this was exactly what she was going to do.

[Kagetora]

The helicopter touched down on a concrete helipad near the gate of the compound, the slick rain still pouring from the heavens. As usual, several armed guards rushed out from the meager shelter provided by the gate towards the chopper. The month's supplies had arrived along with the investigators, and they hurried to move them out of the rain.

But today, there were more than usual. Several KPT guards armed with shotguns still waited at the base of the gate, waiting for the guests to arrive.

The blades of the helicopter continued spinning, albeit slower, while it was on the ground. The guards here ran a tight operation, and it would only take a few minutes for everything to be unloaded.

The lead guard could be seen shouting something to the pilot, but nothing could be heard over the cacophony of rotors and rain.

And still the lighthouse was unlit.

[The Halseyist Faction]

Alison smiled, her head tilting slightly to offer the brief gesture to anyone watching her. It was the smug smile of satisfaction, a cat who had the cream, because at last they had arrived at their intended destination. Admittedly, the weather had not improved in the slightest, and the dull mannered guards were shouting in a most annoying fashion over the din of the still operating helicopter engine. Stretching, she rose from her chair, a hand clasping around the handle of her relatively long hand baggage. She didn't carry much. A full change of clothes, tolietries, a dueling rapier, a spare clip of ammunition for the pistol concealed within her jacket, and various paperwork like odds and ends for her postion. Upon her person came the manitory pen and notebook, as well as a palmtop personal computer, and purse. Not that she expected to be getting any wireless signal out here of course, but it was easier to bring her files along in computerise form, rather than carrying a library.

Moving past the other passengers in a relatively determinded fashion, she would like to be the first off this spinning deathtrap after all, she prepared herself to alight to the floor outside, and enquire of one of the thuggish guards where one might be staying. It was not that she passionately hated Helicopters... Just that there were almost infinate other methods of travel she would rather tolerate, including walking and swimming.

'Excuse me? You. There!' The targetted guard was sure to have his attention diverted as Alison's clipped millitary tones raised themselves commandingly over the storm. 'Exactly where might we be staying? And where is the Warden!?' Straight to the point, she wasted no time on meaningless plesentaries. Speed and efficency where the goal here, it was hardly a hoilday after all...

A shiver went through her spine as her gaze was for a moment drawn through the breeze to the seemingly abandoned lighthouse. It was colder out here than she had first thought, and formalwear had perhaps not been the best choice for surviving the storm season. When she was settled, perhaps requisioning a coat might become her next best choice of action...

[Kagetora]

In response, the guard merely pointed towards the other guards who were standing underneath the gateway, before returning to work.

[Tanaara]

Slightly earlier…

Taking note of the pair next to her, Mahree noted that the young woman seemed frightened of the storm and that her partner seemed to be only minimally interested in soothing her fears. But then again Mahree knew well that many men - those from outside the Fatal Terrain region in particular - were that way, not thinking much of women. On her excursions outside the region she'd seen more instances of it than she could believe. But that was not her problem. But she made mental notes on both of them for future reference.

Landing…

Inwardly Mahree had chuffed in unamusement at the strangers smug smile and pushy exit from the helicopter. Perhaps the redhead would come to some bad end given that ego. Mahree was aware enough of her own failings to recognize them in others. That recognition did not make her any more sympathetic however.

She would be perfectly content to be last off the copter, so she would have the time to unpack her umbrella. Her two rolling cases, both large and bulky, had been packed with every efficiency so as to have as much of her personal equipment with her. Part of that equipment was an Iridium 9505A Sat Phone that had global coverage. Her tablet was connected to the www through the Inmarsat I-4 BGAN satellite network and her Thrane and Thrane Explorer 700. She had no intention of being cut off from the world when Satellite cell phones and internet connects could be had even on a rental basis. Hers were the military versions, hardened, rugged and while maybe not as pretty as civilian versions they got the job done very well.

They didn't take up much room in go-pack 2 a modified Orvis Family-Size Rollacase the rest of its bulk ws her MEI kit, and it was filled to the brim with equipment. The armored case for her tablet was strapped to this case.

The other bag, an extra large LL Bean Ballistic Rolling Pullman, held her changes of clothing, two spare pares of shoes one another atheletic and the other a formal heeled pair, manicure and hair care kit. And most certainly her spare pistol, cleaning kit and ammo for the gun holstered unnoticeably under her well tailored clothing. A pair of thick Victorinox Swiss Army knives -one a SwissChamp xlt, the other a SwissTool rs were also packed.. TMZer's had to earn Citizenship and part of that earning meant time in Service. And even if the Service you were in wasn't military, one still had to pass basic training and requalify yearly with their weapons. So her wearing a gun was as natural as wearing a bra, though Mahree's figure, well kept with daily exercise and a very active lifestyle, didn't need one.

After the others departed she eased her way out of the craft and moved quickly way from the still spinning rotors and the violent draft their rotation created. Once free of it she opened her umbrella and man- handled the two rolling cart, somewhat awkwardly to where the first person off the plane was loudly wondering why the warden was not on hand for their arrival.

Her gaze quickly followed the guards pointing finger, and she began to move toward the other group of guards.

[Acacia Heights Records]

Rodgers and Mira followed the other two women passengers to a group of guards. Neither had been surprised at the redhead's barked commands, or her immediate dismissal. They were surprised at the amount of luggage the other woman had. Either she came prepared to the nines, or she was one hell of a fashionista. Let's hope it's the former, Rodgers thought. We've already got the redhead trying to kill us. And with that thought, he remembered to put on his shades. Be prepared, he thought idly as he pulled them out of his jacket pocket. Heh. That was a long time ago.

Between them, they only had three suitcases- one rolling case each, and Mira's duffel bag. The duffel bag had a high school sports logo and the words "Acacia City High Leopards" embossed on its side, but the first three words had been crossed out and the word "Lady" painted over them. Not that anyone here would get the reference.

As they walked, Rodgers lifted the duffel off Mira's shoulder and draped it across his own. He got a nod and half-smile in return. Pleasing Mira wasn't difficult, he realized for not the first time. It was the small things that she appreciated most. The things that he usually forgot to do.

[Heaven Hieghts]

Florian slowly rose from his seat, pulling his messenger bag over his should and carrying a medium sized suit case in his hand. The suit case contained clothing and other personal objects while the messenger bag contained paper work, a few note books, an assortment of pens, an extra clip or two for his sister's Madava which was worn under his jacket and a small bottle of laudanum and two needles to inject himself with. It wasnt something he used often, but if things ever got to be too much for him he'd give himself a few CCs to numb things a little bit and was honestly beginning to wonder if he was becoming addicted. Florian knew this wasnt good for him, but he didnt know what else to do at times. He had a hard time dealing with grief, especially after he'd become so dependent on his older sister during the short time they were together and the constant repercussions he suffered in his childhood due to his parents' slaughter.

He stepped out into the cold and surveyed the scene. Cold, but not as cold as his homeland, where snow was the staple weather condition. It wouldnt bother him much, having grown up in this sort of weather save to a more extreme degree.

The redhead was barking at one of the guards. Well, she looks like fun... Florian thought with a relatively blank expression. The others he wouldnt pay attention to, he wasnt here to make friends, he was here on business and if they wanted to work with him, well fine. It would get the job done faster and then he could go back home to his cache of pain killers and a pair of very temperamental finches named Plato and Aristotle.

He finished his look about then started walking toward the guards beneath the gate.

[Tanaara]

Mahree put the rudely aggressive redhead out of her immedite thoughts other than to score more negatives against her. Rudeness was necessary only in case of need, and simply not being met up by the warden in person - to assauge ones ego gratification - didn't call for it. But then again some people hadn't had proper raising.

But some people had the need to be the center of attention.

She stopped before the set of guards that the questioned one had indicated and simply asked, with a small smile, that while remote was not unkind "Could you escort us to the Warden, please" It harmed nothing to be polite, courteous, to others, and might have a pay off some day. Those many considered underlings, and treaded carelessly, often had more useable information and were more capable of effective help that their supposed superiors. 'Never tick off the help' had been her mothers motto. She had been the resourceful and revered - and feared by no few -head of TMZ's intelligence sector from the nations birth until her death.

[Kagetora]

The rain was choosing not to let up, and if anything, had increased. Lightning lit up the sky again as the helicopter began its journey home.

A man with short black hair and water streaming down his face waited for all of the foreigners to gather at the bottom of the gate before nodding and motioning the crowd to follow him. The slick grass making squelching noises under their feet, he led them silently through the expansive, yet deserted, courtyard. The guards who had been unloading the helicopter could no longer be seen.

Behind them, the massive iron gates closed with a loud scraping of metal on metal.

The man with short black hair reached the expansive wooden doors of the main building first. Reaching into his pocket, he took out a key ring and unlocked it, and let two of his comrades open the doors for their guests.

With a brisk aboutface, the first man pocketed his keys and said in accented English,
"Welcome to the Keiji Kyōsei Shisetsu, Criminal Correctional Facility. Before my men escort you to meet the warden and your quarters, you must surrender your firearms, blades, and any non-medicinal drugs."

[Heaven Hieghts]

"But we're duty appointed investigators-" He pulled his wallet out and flipped it open showing his ID and badge. "We've got got signed permission to carry firearms." Florian argued almost immediately in accented english, though it sounded slightly thicker than the guard's but one could still figure what he was saying, his tone was very calm and even, not even threatening.

[Kagetora]

"But during your stay, you will obey protocol. You are standing on Kagetorian government property, and I have no qualms about putting you on the next helicopter out of here."

[Heaven Hieghts]

Florian sighed deeply and pulled the Madava from its holster then held it out to the guard butt first, whilst taking his small bottle of laudanum from the front pocket of his messenger bag. He gave the guard a rather peeved look and held this out too.

[Acacia Heights Records]

Rodgers and Mira each handed over a Glock from their waists and a dagger from their socks. Mira left her bottle of pepper spray untouched in her purse, since it did not fall into any of the categories the man had mentioned.

[The Halseyist Faction]

Alison made a face. 'Ugh...' She commented, the guard in question reciving a none to polite stare. But, he did have a point, and it was best not to meddle with the authorities she was supposed to be spying on. The pistol was first to go, the gun removed from her inside pocket, clip ejected, and the empty weapon passed to the man. It never did any good to hand someone you didn't trust a loaded weapon after all. Next she knelt down to the floor, and unzipped her bag, some considerable effort producing the rapier from the bottom of her, (now damp) belongings, the sword handed to the other point first, since it was still in it's scabbard hardly a threatening or inconvient gesture.

Once disarmed then, she looked around expectantly, her bag re done up to protect from the worse of the insessant rain.
'Now might we be getting somewhere?'
The slight scorn in her tone was obvious, a woman used to getting her own way, and somewhat put out by having to do things other peoples, a woman who had come to do one thing, and was not particularly fond of the idea spending any time doing anything else. Not to mention it was cold, damp, and windy, and if she had to debate with officals and flunkies, she would rather do it with at the very least, a watertight roof over her head.

[Tanaara]

With a grim look, but no verbal protest, Mahree sighed and crouched to open the Rolling Pullman and pulled out the hard sided gun case that was at the top. It was just large enough to hold both pistols and their primary clips. Standing she slid her carry weapon out of the shoulder holster, ejected the clip - she did not carry one 'up the spout' without reason. - and fitted both into the gun case. Closing and locking it she handed it to the indicated guards, She didn't even think of the Swiss Champ xlt, or the Swiss Tool rs - those weren't blades they were tool packs in her consideration.

She had no 'non medical' drugs in her kits, though there were many small vials and bottles of chemicals in the go pack - they were all parts of her various 'kits'

Making sure that her umbrella was protecting her once again she stood patiently waiting for the group to be brought in out of the cold. She gave no outward sign that she was very unhappy at being parted from her weapons. If she had known this would be happening she would have demanded a waiver from the Kagetoran government. But she hadn't come this far just to turn around. And besides the prepared mind was never unarmed. She could whip up weapons out of common chemicals that would please a MacGyver, and she did know a little more unarmed combat than mere self defense, though she well knew she was nothing near a master.

[Kovasckitz]

Leegis looked long at the gaurd, and then decided he might as well comply. He took out his small pistol, knocked all the rounds out, at dropped it. Next in the pile of rounds was a switchblade, and then another. He didn't need those anyway. In his clothing bag he had a completely disasembled six-shot pistol and ammunition in various tubes of this lotion or that paste. Nobody needed to know, and it never hurt to be prepared. To make sure he made a good impression on the guard though he stood there for a second more, seeming to consider his options, and pulled out one last blade from his boot, adding it to the pile at his feet.

[Goias]

Yesterday

The pretense of a holiday seemed to be an excuse. An excuse for the NP to dump some operative in Kagetora and then sit on their hands, drink coffee and whine some more about how their intelligence agency is completely stupid, total shit, should be first against the wall, is a black void, etc. etc. etc.

Or at least that was the impression given. Joanne had to waste time in Edo for about three days with no communication from the central office. Nothing. There was no point trying to find out more about the case she was assigned to, since there was no way you would get anything from the mainland. These people could keep their secrets better than the bloody Goian intelligence agency. You'd have a better chance of seeing Jackie Chan star in a dramatic thriller about the Holocaust than to try to get something about KKS from ordinary Kagetorans. It even said so in the official briefing: don't bother trying. So Joanne didn't.

Benefitting from three days of nothing, Joanne bravely proceeded to do nothing of note. This is all well and nice until you actually observe it from the outside and it kind of makes your brain melt through sheer inanity. If there was a Nobel Prize for Inanity, Joanne would win every single year. There was no attempt to sightsee, experience Edo or anything else. Just staying in the hotel room, watching TV and going out to eat at McDonald's. It kind of makes a person start doubting her mental health.

Finally, on the third day, the treadmill of cheap fast food-TV-sleep was broken by communication from HQ. There was finally an assignment received around 8 PM. Joanne would "go to the KKT KPT and axe ask to obtain transport to KSP KKS", as the note hilariously said. Unlike normal people, Joanne didn't pause to note how the NP had drastically downsized its English language department or wonder if this was a new prototype voice-transcription software (it was the latter). With an astonishing lack of urgency, Joanne got dressed and left her hotel, heading for the nearest KPT building.

In the building, she enquired about the transport. There was a lot of luck involved: this would be the last helicopter for a month and the KPT section was nearing closing time. Joanne filled in the form, claiming to be a private investigator and neglecting to write "Goian" as nationality, writing instead "Tanán". This was probably due to paranoia: there was nothing in her communiqué about not revealing her nationality, but Joanne was probably afraid that, even a long time after the incident, there would still be tension between Goians and Kagetorans and preferred to avoid this possibility.

Earlier today

It might seem a bit surprising that Joanne managed to remain practically invisible during the very long and tedious helicopter trip. A plane? Understandable - lots of people, lots of space. Helicopters are small and cramped. Even in the back-most seat, there would still be a chance that someone would at least notice her. Most probably some people did notice her but were uninterested or too distracted with their own personal problems to bother paying attention to a woman who might as well be deaf-mute. Joanne helped matters by spending the entire trip either paying incredible attention to her shoes or attempting to count the amount of lines on her palms. Her small suitcase (containing few personal amenities such as notepad, clothes and medicines) was haphazardly placed by her legs.

There was no sign of at least some form of disturbance, surprise or, even anything when the helicopter touched down, when the huge gates slammed shut or when a man who looked like a prison guard demanded they turn over their weapons. The latter wasn't a particular problem since she did not have any weapons, but she could identify with the hassle and annoyance of the others at the whim of the bureaucracy of a foreign country they didn't understand and which seemed to be breathing down their back. Still, she felt this position was a bit whiny and smacking of entitlement - this wasn't a holiday in Cambodia or North Korea after all.

Throughout the inspection, Joanne remained a slight distance behind the last man in the group and did not seem to acknowledge anybody else's presence (regardless of her politeness to the guard). She looked around, mentally surveyed the prison complex from the outside. The stricter security (especially compared to what Joanne was used to seeing in prisons back home), the ominous weather (what her colleagues used to call "God's big-ass bathroom break" never seemed more appropriate), the really low temperature and wind that led her to tighten her raincoat and cross her hands to stop shivering, the rusty, metal appearance of the entire compound. No one seemed to have repaired this for a while, but Joanne was willing to admit that the poor vision and bad weather may give her a bad initial impression. Still, she could now see where the North Korea comparison might seem reasonable.

[Kagetora]

With a nod, the guard handed the various weapons to guard. They would be stored in a safe, and returned to the inspectors on their way out, but until that time, the compound would be weapons-free for the non-employees. A guard was assigned to each of the inspectors, all armed with shotguns, and they were all led by their escorts to their quarters on the third floor. The guards, though not ordered to remain silent, weren't a talkative bunch.

Each of them opening the door for their respective escortee, they revealed a simple room. There was a bed with sheets folded on top, an empty nightstand, and a dresser. The KKS didn't have many visitors, and was not well equipped to house any. The nearest bathroom was located in the center of the hallway where they would all reside for the duration of their stay.

[Tanaara]

Mahree followed her far less than talkative guard as she looked about curiously, taking in all the surroundings they traversed and memorizing it – she seldom got lost or disoriented.. She figured out, before they even reached the room assigned to her, that they would all be sharing one, count it one, bathroom among them. That very depressingly reminded her of nothing less than Basic. She had endured her way through Basic, she had had to - passing the not so minor nightmare was part of the requirements for earning Citizenship.

She wasn't particularly 'girli', she was a licensed and accredited Medical Examiner, a Forensic Pathologist, used to dealing with mortal remains in far less than pristine condition, BUT and it was a huge one - though her personal one was trim and shapely, not over sized in the least - she was fastidious in her personal hygiene. And it all too much looked like she was not going to have the bathroom facilities, well luxuries she had become accustomed to at her beck and call.

"I'm glad I have a 'shower pack' and collapsible bowls with me." She muttered under her breath, earning a blank look from the guiding guard as he threw open the door to her modest third floor abode. She'd be able to was her hands and face in her room so as to not tie up the limited facilities.

Mahree looked in with a sigh, and knew as she saw the simple iron bedstead with it's bare bed, and simple furniture - not even a desk, chair or table for her to work on.

She turned to the guard before he could depart. “Please, when do we meet with the Warden?” Her tome was polite but firm. She had no need to be rude, but she wasn’t going to allow any one to walk all over her.