Dangerous Nightlife [Covert MT RP - Semi-open, TG to join]

[Oslea]

OOC: Now what do I mean by 'covert' MT RP? Think James Bond. No huge military deployments - just a few elite undercover agents with their organizations behind them, maybe a special forces team or two backing them up.
Eastwood City, Jacinto State, Oslea
23:00 28 Feb 2013

The majestic skyscrapers of Eastwood seemingly nudged at the very belly of God himself, with their extravagant flashing lights and illuminated advertisements spread out across each building in an orderly yet chaotic manner. They seemed to symbolize the character of the city itself; an attention-grabbing, electric, energetic haven of vice and sin. Eastwood was the nightlife capital of the country, with high-end restaurants to flashy nightclubs harboring the elite of society, dancing away their youth, awash in alcohol and sex. The envy of every celebrity in Oslea, even the world.

But the Oslean Central Intelligence Service wasn't here for a cheap one night stand or a New York steak. They were here to track down Carlos Bordello - a criminal owning two corporations, charged with treason.

"Carlos Bordello, huh," Ryan Archer said, clad in a sharp white dress shirt, a silver necklace, expensive jeans and a disheveled hairdo reflecting that of a clubgoer.

"Yeah, ever since that attempt on the President a year ago we've never been able to track him down. And here he is," OCIS answered into his earpiece.

Archer was waiting in line along with fifty or so young clubbers dressed in their best. He looked up - the building facade read, in large bright white letters, CLUB OASIS 9. The faint noise of techno was audible through the thick metal entrance doors.

"ID," the imposing bouncer dressed in all black demanded. Archer showed him his ID and was let in.

The deafening waves and beats of electronica forced themselves onto Archer as he walked through the doors, the bass thumping through his body as he entered in the main dance floor area. "I'm in," he told OCIS. The dark interiors made it difficult to find Bordello, but not impossible. The only lights focussed on the dancefloor, lasers and beams of all colour bombarding partiers in a concerted assault.

Archer saw his target at the very back of the room - he was easier to find than he thought. In a white suit, gold chains, and expensive designer sunglasses, Bordello was flanked by two broad-shouldered men, sipping a glass of wine while making small talk with some ladies. Farther still were more of his personal bodyguards, in black designer suits and impenetrable eyewear.

"We're looking for his ledger," OCIS told Archer. "You can kill him - we don't want Bordello, we want the ledger. The record of all his transactions, partners, everything. Most importantly, it'll show us not only where his $65 billion in offshore accounts are, but our missile launch codes, which he hasn't managed to crack yet."

Archer thought there was something wrong with this picture. A $65 billion dollar criminal does not only have two bodyguards to protect him - in public - knowing fully that the Oslean States Government is on his tail. Then it hit him.

"You are too late," the bouncer whispered in his ear. "Bordello is not stupid - now you, on the other hand," pressing a pistol into his head.

"PLAN B!" Archer screamed. Oslean States SWAT burst into the premises with tear gas, causing everyone to fall on the floor choking. The party had just turned into a nightmare - and Bordello was at the back donning a gasmask with his two bodyguards shooting their silver .50 custom pistols at the SWAT team. The heavily armed SWAT men returned fire cautiously with their M416s, carefully avoiding the clubgoers who were either choking or crawling their way out of Oasis 9.

"You'll never catch me, you dogs!" Bordello shouted. "I will live on - and another nation will find your secrets! You will never be nationally secure again!" Pulling a flash grenade out of his jacket pocket, the room turned a blinding white and before they knew it, Bordello was gone. Who knows who could be searching for that $65 billion and those missile launch codes now... If OCIS couldn't get to them, some other organization would.

[Banlieue 47]

Eastwood City, Jacinto State, Oslea
23:08 28 Feb 2013

"Scheiss!" exclaimed the nameless Technical Espionage Support Operative on the end of the earpiece. "We have escalation, I repeat, we have escalation. Persue and Contain is permitted".

Static in the shadows behind Club Oasis 9, Operative 'Arzhangel Miykael' was waiting for the 'Go'. Since being deployed to Oslea things had gone from bad to worse. It had started with the black market sale of the Oslean Military Missile Command Codes, in an attempt to earn the favour of International Opinion Banlieue 47 had sent in their best Warriors. 8 crack teams of special forces and 8 agents had infiltrated the nation of Oslea to obtain and 'generously' re-patritate the codes to their rightful owner.
However, the first 3 teams had been compromised upon landing at multiple staging points up and down the coast. Another two teams were compromised whilst entering the country by plane. Total losses for Banlieue 47: 27 men killed, 12 injured/captured.

Out of the remaining teams, one remained: the team under Leutnant Kommander Milos Slobodan, notorious for his cassual cruelty and his indifference to all things apart from his homeland.
Dressed in lightweight yet casual clothing, waiting to go all out, he unholstered his P8 pistol with silencer and cassually checked the weapon was cocked and loaded, it was a good Operating Procedure, better to waste 2 seconds checking than spend your last 2 seconds regretting it after a dead man's click.

A loud bang resounded from somewhere inside the club and a back door swung open. "Target is leaving the building" Slobodan muttered to no-one in particular, sometimes he felt a slight buzz, a slight attachment to the chase as he pictured events in his mind. His plan was simple: grip the terrorist or crimelord or whatever he was after this time, drag him off to a van waiting around the corner with a sleeve in his mouth and interrogate until he got what he wanted. Simple.

The hurried figure in white suit and gold chains clattered his way down the steps at the back of the club's VIP bar, hurrying, two heavies were following and Slobodan called to them "Exhuse me? I do not shpeak suzh good your languages? I need a help for t..." he was cut short by a curt "fuck off" from one of the heavies. A small smile played his lips as they approached him according to plan; one gripped him and he went with it, he screamed slightly panicked and alarmed as the second thug came to fill him in with the warmth and love of the Oslean Criminal Underworld.
His timing impeccable as usual, he twisted and karate chopped the neck of the first brute whilst catching the punch of the second heavy, using momentum alone he twisted the thug's arm, breaking it clean in two. He drew his pistol and gave a double tap into the temples of both heavies and told the bastard terrorist that the Grace of God wouldn't save him.

"Hurry the fuck up!" called the nameless support op "you don't have all bloody day to pray, get him to the fucking van". Slobodan, despite being devoutly religious, complied with the orders he was given. Gripping the Crimelord he put his beefy arm in the guys mouth and tensed the muscle to prevent him from biting or screaming out "I hope you brush your teeth like a good little piggie" he muttered in the ear of the filth, playing a knife across his throat as a warning. The van reversed into view and a door swung open. Slobodan pushed the terrorist into the van where he was hooded and flexi-cuffed.

Before Slobodan could begin to climb into the van the 'escalation' became evident, he turned and loosed a few shots off as he climbed into the van and the door slammed shut behind him. Before he could even begin interrogating the now cowering criminal boss in the back of the van, Bordello began laughing "You pig, you think you're so clever? You think my men won't find me?" but Slobodan was used to it, he gestured for Bordello to be unhooded and swivelled him round to look eye-to-eye to the elite killer "They will find you, but not alive, you have what we want. Give us codes."
Another laugh issued forth from Bordello "you're not Oslean, for sure, so I'll tell you a little secret: Osleans don't get caught... and why not just bid for it like everyone else?" asked a somewhat bemused Bordello, "Because I don't got the fucking moneys, hm? Or because I don't want pig like you to have it, so, I give a ultimatum, hm? You give codes, I give you a painless death, sounds good, no?".

Never do interrogations go easily, not when there is no fear and Bordello was no exception to the big man rule, maybe it would take days in captivity to break him but Slobodan didn't have days. "Give me codes now" demanded Slobodan, placing his pistol to Bordello's head "Codes" "You wouldn't kill me" said Bordello, cockily "You need what is in my head too much" - such self assured arrogance has a reward in Slobodan's mind, he lowered the gun and put a round into the kneecap on the criminal who screamed in agony. "Codes" demanded Slobodan again "You'll never get them from me" screeched the enraged and agonised Bordello; Slobodan repeated the treatment into the second kneecap. "CODES. NOW. You want bollocks? Hm? You want fuck pretty girl again? CODES. NOW" demanded Slobodan.

Bordello, despite his obvious agony, began laughing through the sobs "You'll never get the codes... from me" he laughed, Slobodan placed his gun to the now wet crotch of Bordello "because... Osleans... never... get.. caught... I, am not Bordello" he laughed. Enraged, Slobodan punched the laughing double in the kneecap and checked for the tell-tale birthmark he had been told to look for "SCHEISS!" exclaimed the enraged agent.
"You are useless to me now" he muttered, you are free to go. With that, Slobodan opened the doors at the back of the speeding van and dropped the body double of the notorious criminal out the back of the van, at 80mph there wasn't much left of the body, which cheered up Slobodan just a little.

"Operations Centre Delta, Slobodan here, our stay has just become elongated".

[Oslea]

Outside Club Oasis 9
23:30 28 Feb 2013

"Well, shit."

Archer woke up, dazed and confused on a stretcher just outside Club Oasis 9. The lineup had dissipated - and transformed into a row of recovering men and women attended to by medical staff for various causes. Paramedics were treating clubgoers for everything from stampede injuries to lung irritation, and the scene was hectic with ambulances zigzagging in and out to bring people to hospital. It was almost as if the glitz and glamour of the night was replaced by the horror and damage only organized crime could bring. Archer knew he'd failed - Bordello got away, and the SWAT couldn't chase after him.

"Was it the damn shirt that gave me away?" Archer asked, as his superior, only known as "Mrs. M," stood by the stretcher.

"I'll be damned if it was. I thought you looked good to me," said the aged 50 year-old woman, dressed in business attire and a pearl necklace. She'd almost make a good grandmother, if she wasn't coordinating a national spy agency. "But, looking good doesn't matter when the enemy's already got intel on ya. Anyway, we have a new lead on Bordello - it conflicts with what we have now."

"I swear we just had Bordello-"

Mrs. M cut him off abruptly. "No, you didn't have Bordello. Besides, that's not even the real Bordello."

From her jacket pocket came three small photographs, vintage polaroids, which she threw onto Archer's aching body. "Pictures of Bordello, shirtless. His birthmark clearly visible. Taken just tonight, when you were off on your little club party."

"Where, and how?" Archer coughed, his dress shirt now ruffled by the action he had just faced.

"The Ryori Islands. Meet agent 'Hannah' there - you'll know her when you see her. She'll tell you everything else."

---

Ryori Islands, Oslean Eastern Sea Region, Oslea
06:50 1 Mar 2013

The rising tropical sun shined through the windows of the helicopter, its orange rays breaking through the shroud of night and the failures of yesterday. Another day was another opportunity to find Bordello, Archer thought to himself. He was nearly two hundred kilometers from the mainland, and he was surprised he could get here so early.

The helicopter slowed down and landed on an makeshift helipad made out of a platform of wood. Disembarking, Archer stopped and inhaled the Ryorian air - it was calmer, refreshing, and cleaner compared to the polluted smog of urban Eastwood. The palm trees were now the tallest things within Archer's sight, providing a sharp contrast to the Towers of Babel of Sin City, their green leaves reflecting life as nature intended it to be.

Archer was now in a simple white shirt, his lucky silver cross, bringing with him a holstered 9mm which he kept concealed under his shorts.

Beside the helipad was a table with a lone, beautiful Asian woman sitting, wearing a button-up red shirt and white shorts, with long flowing hair dyed bronze.

That must be Hannah. Ask her the challenge... Archer decided.

"So, the Cobras won 3-1 yesterday," Archer said. If she didn't reply properly, this wouldn't be Hannah.

"Yes. John Weston is my favourite player. I would watch him any day," Hannah answered in a forced, recited manner.

Yep, at least she got the challenge right, word for word. Doesn't hurt that she's hot too.

"You must be Archer," Hannah replied. "I've got news for you," sliding over a report from OCIS towards Archer's direction.

"We're not the only ones after Bordello. Problem is, we don't know who else is going after him."

Archer sighed. For an intelligence agency, they sure aren't that intelligent, he snarkily remarked in his head. He shook off the short-lived feeling of cleverness he had at his own thought and concentrated back on the task at hand. "So, what do we know?"

"That Bordello is here, on these islands. The Navy has the islands blockaded so no one can enter in and out without undergoing a check."

[Trivval]

Tag, sending TG.

[Oslea]

OOC: Feel free to use the information below to help your understanding of the situation ICly - it's top secret , yet it's background information I think all participants should know.

"Bordello, here?" Archer inquired. "I'd actually be surprised if we're right this time."

Hannah sighed, disappointed in her colleague's lack of faith yet agreeing with him internally. "Just take a look at the damn report."

---

OSLEAN CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE SERVICE REPORT
1 March 2013

Background Information

Last year on 5 June 2012, sharpshooters attempted to assassinate President Harold Westmoreland during a statue unveiling in the Western Countryside. The assassination attempt was, according to our sources, destined to fail. It was engineered to distract government agencies from a Department of Defense Security breach - various sensitive files were compromised, amongst them one half of the missile launch codes of the entire Oslean States security arsenal. Through black market trading over the past year, the remaining half was obtained piecewise albeit in its encrypted form.

The man suspected to be behind this is Carlos Bordello, a billionaire former drug cartel kingpin who made the transition into legitimate business, buying several high-profile Oslean corporations.

Carlos Bordello


Photo of Carlos Bordello on his private yacht around the Ayra Islands - taken approximately in Summer 2012. Found on his personal social networking page.

Nationality: Oslean
DOB (mm/dd/yy): 06/14/1968 (44 years)
Place of birth: Venetia, Cara, Oslea
Marital Status: Single

Carlos Bordello was born into a middle-class family in rural Venetia. Absorbed into the criminal life when disappointed with farming, Bordello's charismatic shrewdness in deals and trading found himself rising the ranks of a foreign drug cartel until reaching the rank of kingpin at the young age of 28. With billions under his belt and the Oslean government pursuing him, he convinced his former cartel to appoint a successor to him and to let him go, in return for buying Oslean businesses and politicians to create a crime-friendly climate in cities such as Eastwood. He used his influences to clear any records of his past.

Notably, it has been impossible to prosecute Bordello since all records of his deals have been purged by a government insider. Without concrete evidence and Bordello now masquerading as a businessman, courts have no legal ground to use against him; in addition, he has many high-profile lawyers at his disposal. This is all in spite of Bordello being the mastermind of the theft of sensitive missile launch codes and an assassination attempt on the President. OCIS is the only government agency with the ability to bring justice to Bordello - as we work outside the bounds of the law, we are not restricted by it.

The extent of Bordello's 'supporting cast' is unknown. He has his own personal bodyguards but his wealth permits him to purchase the services of mercenaries. His former drug cartel acquaintances may also be directly assisting Bordello.

Bordello's goal - or at least what we know of it - is the cracking of the Oslean missile launch codes. He is in possession of the entirety of the codes but has failed to crack them in order to make them usable. It is only a matter of time before the codes are decrypted and Bordello holds the whole nation hostage with its own missiles.

Bordello is a shrewd, cunning man with charisma, wits, and many allies. Deal with him with extreme caution. His one weakness - if he has one - is his taste for parties. From energetic dance parties to relaxed house parties with the elite, each social function provides one more chance for OCIS to track down Bordello once and for all.

Where is Bordello now?

OCIS' best guess is the Ryori Islands, roughly 200km from the southernmost coastal point of the mainland. The Ryori Islands are a seperate island chain from the Ayra Islands, which are an additional 1,000km southeast. A tourist haven due to its laid-back locals, tropical climate, and relaxed lifestyles of those who live there, tourism is the largest industry in the Ryori Islands, netting $2 billion a year. The main island - Ryori - is where the majority of tourists stay and where most hotels operate. At any given time, about 12,500 extremely well-off tourists are on the island at any given time in addition to the 140,000 locals.

About 26 minor islets surround Ruga in addition to the 3 other major islands, named Josho, Ruga, and Mari.

Currently, OCIS is working with the Oslean States Navy to regulate passage of people to prevent Bordello's exit from the Island chain.

There is a slight chance Bordello may not be in the Islands at all, in which case the other likely location is Eastwood City, where he is known to conduct business.

---

Putting the report down on the aged wooden table, Archer lamented on the logic presented by the report. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would the Navy blockade the Islands - it just shows Bordello we're onto him!"

"OCIS isn't the sharpest tool in the drawer, I know. But if he is here, it'll help us greatly," Hannah replied.

[Maychion]

"Positive ID on Carlos Bordello," The man whispered to his partner as they both laid prone on a high-rise building in Eastwood city, looking down on the location the Maychian intelligence service had said was a probable location where Bordello would show up. The man looked up from his binoculars for a while and shone a flashlight on the picture they had of their target. "Looks like him. Has the 'asshole' face," He said, adding the last sentence jokingly. Both men were in black combat attire, blending in perfectly with the shadows of the night. What skin that was exposed was also covered in black face paint.

"Amazing. Same report from teams on Ryori Island as well," His partner said dryly. "Only way of telling his identity is the birthmark on his back."

"That shirt's not staying on for long, look," The first man said and pointed to the people partying near a pool below. "Another one of his parties, I reckon." He zoomed in and gave a low whistle. "Those chicks sure are hot, eh?"

"Focus, Anton," His partner said with a sigh. "We just need to ID Bordello. The rest is up to OCIS."

"I don't see why we couldn't have brought in our own capture team," Anton grumbled and shifted slightly, scanning the crowd for the tell tale birthmark. Something that was no easy feat, given the number of people present and that everything he saw was in shades of green.

His partner sighed again. "Maychion's a damn near hermit nation. If a nation receives say, two Maychians, it's normal. Ten? Fifteen? Cause for alarm." He replied. "Eyes up, possible suspect detected. He's heading for the pool," He reported and adjusted his grip on the sniper rifle loaded with stun darts. It was a specialized weapon for the mission, being foldable and easily hidden in a suitcase lined with lead to avoid detection. He was to only use it if shit really struck the fan.

"Ah, he's taking off his shirt." Anton said as he saw Bordello remove his clothes and toss them to the ground, apparently going for a dip in the pool. "Damn it, you bastard, turn around." He grumbled.

"Be patient," His friend advised. "Wait, I think-" He said and cut himself off when he saw Bordello turn around, only for a split second, to chat with someone else. That was all Anton needed to take a snapshot of the incriminating birthmark. The two men grinned and then slowly crawled back away from the edge of the building.

"I got it, that's Carlos Bordello alright." Anton said and held his binoculars-cum-camera close to his chest.

"Good. Let's get back to the apartment and send it to OCIS. I hear a certain Agent Ryan Archer is after him," His friend said casually.

"How do you know that?"

"Oh, friends in low places." His friend replied cryptically.

Back in their apartment, they send a terse and heavily encrypted message to the personal email account of Ryan Archer, hoping that he was one of those people who would read every email and not just ignore them and delete all of them in one go.

Code: Select all

We'll be brief. We are a Maychian spy team active in Eastwood city. We have a positive ID on Bordello in the city. You want him, we want the codes to never make it to the market. We can help each other. There is no Maychian team active in Eastwood to capture or kill him. We'll leave that to you. Pictures attached are the snapshots we managed to take last night. You'll see the proof clear as day.

[Oslea]

Sensing vibrations in his shorts pocket, Archer pulled out his PDA which was incessantly pestering him. Flicking it on, the screen read that he had one email message.

"I haven't even been on this island for a day and already our intel's gone to hell," Hannah sighed, a disappointed expression plastered on her face by the news sent by the Maychions. "I told you it wasn't just us. At least they seem like they're on our side."

Archer seemed more concerned than disappointed. "What I'm more concerned about is the fact that they have my damn contact info - here I am, a damn Tier 1 agent, and I get emails from a foreign spy team. Either way, I don't think we have much business here anymore, but we still need to make sure the Islands are clear."

"Whoa, easy there," Hannah cautioned, "send the email to OCIS and we'll head back to Eastwood ourselves. Two other agents will cover the Islands."

The stressed facial expression on Archer's face was erased by Hannah's suggestion. "I love a good party," he said with a smile.

---

Eastwood City, Jacinto State, Oslea
16:45 1 March 2013

"Our stop's right here."

The sun was beginning to set below the towering skylines of Eastwood, and the city was beginning to take on its infamous nighttime character; lights and obnoxious advertisements illuminated the roads as cars hectically zoomed around Hannah and Archer's taxi, which stopped in front of a ritzy condominium. Overhead, a rapid transit train raced smoothly towards its next destination.

Paying the taxi driver for his services, they made their way to the lobby of Shangri-La, nonchalantly choosing an elevator shaft and made sure no one else was inside it. Hannah was dressed in a plaid miniskirt and white top, echoing an outfit of a schoolgirl, while Archer wore a black dress shirt with matching black pants. They appeared to be heading to another raucous social function, to drink the night away; but they'd be doing something much more exciting. Within one of the suites on the 60th floor was Sam Cage, a reclusive man that apparently ordered the service of an escort for Bordello's upcoming party.

"60th floor," Hannah whispered. "Remember, I'm the escort-"

"-and I take care of the 'old' escort." Archer replied with a tinge of excitement.

The elevator gave off a ting as it stopped on the 60th floor. Intel said that the escort's room was on the 67th floor - Archer wouldn't stop here.

"Good luck," Archer whispered into Hannah's ear as she left off to go meet Sam Cage.

Clutching his silenced Beretta, Archer waited as the floor indicator flashed 61, 62, 63...

Finally, it stopped at the 67th floor. Archer walked out and encountered a scantily dressed woman flanked by two bodyguards waiting for an elevator, in a hallway lit by bright lights and decorated with expensive antiques and artifacts from around the world.

"Heh, I'm... er, going down too," Archer said. "I missed my floor."

One of the imposing bodyguards gave Archer a warning glance, and he pretended to look intimidated by their action.

That must be the escort, Archer thought; escorts never had bodyguards unless they were for Bordello's friends.

An elevator became available, and all four of them entered, Archer pretending to play the awkward bystander. He felt the elevator jolt and start its descent to the 60th floor.

"Straight to the basement," Archer said into his microphone, intended for OCIS engineers on standby, to alter the elevator's course.

"What was that?" one of the bodyguards asked menacingly, shooting a fiery gaze at Archer.

"Uh... I meant basement. Like, you know, hell." He slid out his Beretta and combat knife in opposite hands, slicing the throat of the leftmost bodyguard and planting a bullet in the other's forehead in one elegant motion. The escort fainted as the elevator made its way to the basement, where OCIS personnel were waiting to take the bodies, clean the elevator, and arrest the escort.

Hannah chimed into his earpiece. "I've got an invitation!"

The party was to happen tomorrow night, at Bordello's highrise condo where he was previously sighted by a Maychian spy team. The utmost speed, precision, and stealth was required to take him cleanly.

---

Code: Select all

To: Maychian team

Please continue with your assistance.
We will ensure the codes will never see the light of day and they will never be cracked.
Consider your actions implicitly authorized on our soil, but we cannot give you concrete authorization. Should you be spotted by any non-OCIS government personnel, you will most likely be arrested.

One more note - there will be another party at the same highrise according to our intel. It may do you well to stay at whichever location you took the photos at.

Oslean Central Intelligence Service

[Oslea]

OOC: Here's some info on Eastwood City so you know what it's like.

---

OSLEAN STATES CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE SERVICE FACTBOOK - Available to the public
Eastwood City Information Supplement


Eastwood City at night

Inaugurated: 2008 (split from Jacinto City); 1921 (Jacinto City)
Regional District: Greater Jacinto Administrative Area
Mayor: George Carloff
Population: 17,481,990 citizens (2010 census)

The commercial capital of Oslea, Eastwood City is home to the headquarters of many Oslean corporations and is widely known as the 'nightlife capital' of the country in addition to being a commercial powerhouse. The city is well known for its entertainment, with many attractions catering to all demographics. These include the fine arts such as dance and theater, situated primarily on renowned Brockway Avenue, to nightclubs and bars centered around the entertainment district on Bowie Street. It is a coastline city, along Schwarzkopf Bay which leads out to the Oslean Sea, and is fed by Schwarzkopf River.

Immigration to Jacinto City dramatically increased in 1997, and many skilled and educated immigrants bolstered the commercial district which is known as Eastwood City today - due to the explosion of population in the area, the Oslean States government ratified a bill which split Jacinto City and Eastwood City into two municipalities in 2008. Roads can be congested at peak hours, but construction efforts have prevented the problem of overcrowding which consequently resulted in Eastwood's proliferation of highrise towers.

Crime is a moderate problem in Eastwood, especially in the Warehouse District by Schwarzkopf Bay where a port operates full-time, receiving imports globally.

Transportation around the city is facilitated by the large fleet of taxis, a relatively reliable bus service, and an ever-expanding, efficient rapid transit railway commissioned in 2009. Personal transportation by car can sometimes be difficult due to the vast amount of cars on the road at peak hours, but possible at the nighttime past 7:00pm, early morning before 7:00am, and the afternoon before 6:00pm.

[Maychion]

"Another party, eh?" Anton said with a smirk. "We gate crashing?"

His friend shook his head. "Too risky. We look nothing like Osleans. We'd stick out like a sore thumb. We'll do some surveillance work." He swiveled in his chair and looked to his laptop screen. "Same location, but we'll have to switch location just in case they grew brains. I'm reckoning we'll have to do the same deal: Positive identifying." He bent down under his desk and took out the sniper rifle. "Maybe elimination if they request it."

"Heh," Anton said with a thin smile. "The usual. Anyway, you never did told me how you got Ryan Archer's email."

"Ah, the janitors, the cleaners...Basically the service crew. They're everywhere and yet no one pays much attention to them. People talk more or less openly with them and and they much more than they should." His friend replied with a wide smile. "And it's easy to be their friends. Much easier than making friends with the higher-ups, eh?"

Anotn chuckled and shook his head. "So, when do we leave?"

"Now. I want time to recce the area and set up shop. Wear casual clothes. Shove what you need into a backpack. Make yourself look like a tourist visiting a friend."

An hour later they were using the balcony of an empty apartment. Anton managed to pick the lock and granted the two of them access. They changed into their all-black uniform and arranged the construction materials near the balcony to hide them as much as possible. Then, the made a small platform by balancing a wooden pallet on the edge of the balcony and a pile of bricks they pushed into position to put their binoculars and sniper rifle on. They had food, they had water. Now all they had to do was wait till nightfall.

-5 hours later-

"Some party," Anton's friend muttered. Whatever Bordello had going on down there, it was huge. It was damn near impossible for them to pick out one specific person, and they just had to pray that their luck was good. Anton scanned from left to right with his binoculars, hoping to find something. "Got anything?" His friend asked.

"Nope, the crowd's too thick."

"Fjandin." His friend swore. "Right, then let's keep looking. Someone will eventually turn up."

[Oslea]

Bordello's Personal Condominium
19:45 2 March 2013

Waiting in the elevator, Hannah was wearing an expensive white designer dress along with diamond earrings, generously provided by Sam Cage during their 'meeting' last night. Unfortunately, Archer couldn't make it - he had no alibi for the party. Instead he took it upon himself to provide support from the bottom floor of Bordello's condominium, which was nigh impossible to get into.

Hannah's elevator stopped at the very top floor; the 70th. The addictive and upbeat tunes of Daft Punk welcomed themselves into Hannah's ears as she walked onto Bordello's pool roof, surrounded by guests comprised of Eastwood's elite and Bordello's old friends. Everyone was wearing haute couture, or they were wearing nothing - two nude girls ran past, laughing, chasing a man clutching a drink in his hand.

A doorman wearing a tuxedo was waiting at the elevator's entrance. "Ah, Mr. Sam Cage, and your escort friend. Please, welcome yourselves, and enjoy Mr. Carlos Bordello's most generous hospitality. He extends his greetings and good wishes to you."

Hannah couldn't hide any weaponry with her - she might have been searched and couldn't take the chance. The only support she had was Archer, on the bottom floor, and an OCIS sniper hiding in an apartment adjacent to Bordello's condominium. Of course there were the Maychian spies, but no one knew where they were precisely.

"I'm in," she whispered."

---

"Roger that," Archer said, having entered the condominium discreetly through the back door. Dressed in the same black dress shirt and pants, he was holding a conspicuous suitcase that housed a shortened M416 carbine, with a silencer attachment if he needed it. Of course, he still had his trusty silenced sidearm. All he could do from the bottom was bide his time, along with the OCIS sniper somewhere nearby.

[Maychion]

"Damn it," Anton's friend muttered.

"What is it, Änders?" Anton asked in a murmur and continued looking for their target.

"Most of the people here are naked. It's not a case of 'look for the old nude dude' anymore," Änders replied grumpily, but knew that it was too much for him to hope that the mission would be a quick and easy one. "Oh god, some people here shouldn't be naked." He said with mock terror and chuckled softly. He knew they were in no real danger of detection. Anton and his paranoia, along with his arsenal of motion trackers, non-lethal traps and several other gadgets saw to that.

"I don't know about you," Anton said with a smirk as he slowly trailed a woman dressed in only a skimpy bikini. "But I could get used to this."

"Focus," Änders said sternly. "You got an encrypted and secure connection to the OCIS people?"

"How do you know there're OCIS-" He asked then caught himself instantly. "Right. Friends in low places."

Änders smiled and nodded slowly. Anton sighed and got to work, trying to find the OCIS frequency and open a private and encrypted channel to them. It was actually easier than he thought. He managed to get a quick listen at a short message between two agents in the building and quickly memorized the frequency before setting up an extremely encrypted channel. "There, it's set up. Enough to satisfy your encryption boner?" He asked. "Though it's only to Ryan Archer. There's another agent up there but that side seems secure, damn secure." Anton said grumpily. He had a lot of pride in being part of Maychion's elite counter-intelligence team, equipped with the best cracking, hacking and encrypting software. Not being able to get somewhere was like a blow to his pride.

His friend nodded slowly and kept scanning the crowd. "Nothing, eyes on the pool."

"Eyes on the dance floor." Anton reported.

"Wait, wait, I see someone who looks like the package." Änders said quickly and tapped Anton on the shoulder. "There, by the...Western end, chatting up two ladies. You see him?"

"Yup, back to us. I see the birthmark. Tell Archer?" Anton asked. His friend nodded and he quickly sent a terse message to Archer. "Target spotted. Western end of pool, closest to...The buffet table. You want us to immobilize him?"

[Oslea]

"Negative, Vulture, do not-" Archer blurted out, biding his time by a punchbowl on the ground floor of Bordello's condominium. He left his M416 in the bathroom, discreetly leaving it behind a potted plant. Celebrities and other people of high society surrounded him, engaged in conversation that created a din that flowed throughout the room; making it almost impossible for anyone to take notice of Archer's conversation with Anton.

"Hold on, you're not Vulture, you must be those Maychian guys" Anton remarked, Vulture being the OCIS sniper perched within an building within sight of the rooftop. "I don't know how you guys do it, but... Never mind. Do not engage, everything could turn to shit. There's an asset up there and another asset waiting just like you guys are. This place is a veritable goldmine of info - everyone's up here. His friends, associates, everything. Not only that, but-"

Someone tapped Archer's shoulder and greeted him. Only the replies from the conversation made its way through to Anton. "Yeah, nice night tonight. Yeah, it's great. Bordello, great guy. Yeah. Hey, I gotta go use the men's room. Yeah. Nice meeting you."

"Sorry about that, I got sidetracked," Archer said, pushing the door to the men's room open and situating himself within a stall. The bathroom was an exquisite place, with a gold-lined mirror and marble countertops - you could almost live there.

"Anyway, as I was saying. We've found out Bordello does not carry the ledger with him. but he knows where it is. We need him alive and conscious so he can tell us. The plan right now is to put some mind-altering drugs in his drink so he spits out the ledger's location and we can fetch it, then fetch the codes when the ledger tells us where they are."

Archer then looked at his wrist so he could wait five minutes, to give the impression he was actually making use of the bathroom.

---

Hannah had the concoction of drugs under her fingernails - she was supposed to tap them over Bordello's drink so eventually he'd become extremely sensitive to questioning, even publically. Not as if she needed it, as Bordello was a conceited man; perhaps he'd simply give the location of the ledger to show off his power.

Sam Cage motioned for her to follow him. "We are going to meet Bordello, and you will be an obedient little girl. You are a famous actress and you will act like it. Kapisch?"

Shit. Well, here's hoping Bordello is too strung out to recognize me, Hannah pondered. She carefully traipsed her way around the pool behind Sam Cage, being careful not to get her fingernails wet. Any sort of liquid getting on them could damage the drug concoction under them.

---

"This is Vulture. How's it hangin', Archer?" Vulture, real name Marcus Statham, was an accomplished sniper who served in many locales around the world with the Marine Corps. Nestled comfortably within a makeshift platform enabling him to assume the prone position while surveying Bordello's party, he was surrounded my ammunition, water, a few snacks, and pictures upon pictures of Bordello and his associates. The apartment suite had been purchased by OCIS merely a day ago - hopefully no one saw it as suspicious as there was literally nothing in the apartment but Statham's sniper gear.

"It's good. Maychian team's around here somewhere. Nothing's hit the fan yet - and Bordello's over in the Western end."

Through his M24's scope, he sighted what possibly was Bordello in the same location the Maychians had transmitted over to him.

"Got him in my sights," Vulture said. "Hey, do me a favour, and tell the Maychians to get on my frequency too. Considering they managed to get into yours, they probably don't even have to ask."

[Maychion]

"Nope, you don't. Sorry about the rude interruption. Maychion prides it's intelligence and clandestine units. We picked up your traffic and just weaseled our way in." Anton said suddenly. Then, to Änders, he said, "No shot. Keep observing." His partner nodded and kept his eye through the scope. Anton then said to the sniper, "So, what do you need us to do? Lethal or non-lethal?" The Maychian team carried fifty rounds of lethal 7.62 NATO ammunition used in their silenced sniper rifle and fifty rounds of specialized non-lethal knockout and paralysis darts. The darts where manufactured for the mission, since they had to calculate the precise amount of drugs to use so Bordello would be knocked out but not dead.

Änders slipped a magazine of 7.62mm NATO rounds into his weapon just to be safe and Anton's hand moved to his 9mm pistol, relief flooding him just by touching the contours of the weapon. Whatever happened, they were ready for it.

[Oslea]

"I've got the lethal side of things under control here," Vulture said, vigilantly watching over the partiers. "Stick to non-lethal, we don't want to kill anyone unless we need to. There are other important people h-"

Dropping his M24 and slumping to the ground, Vulture's head abruptly exploded showering the room in gore and blood, leaving nothing behind but chunks of grey matter and skull fragments. A .50 caliber sized hole penetrated the wall behind Vulture's platform.

---

"Vulture? Vulture, come in!" Archer frantically shouted into his microphone, until realizing he was around other people. "Vulture? Ah damnit, I hope his comms are okay or there's a damn countersniper out there! Maychians, watch the rooftops for a counter-sniper - and Vulture's body!"

---

Somewhere within the buildings surrounding the rooftop, a mysterious sniper cycled the bolt on his M95 antimateriel rifle, the shell loudly clanking out of the chamber as a new one took its place. He did not know how many more were out there - but he knew he already got one. With his night-vision goggles, he surveyed the other buildings through a filter of green, carefully scanning each window for any sign of a gun.

He quickly glanced at the note he had beside him. "Kill on sight."

[Maychion]

"Well...Fjan," Anton said lightly as the two Maychians slunk back into the shadows. "You get a tally on our sniper friend?" He asked Änders. He hoped his friend said yes, otherwise they'd have to resort to dangerous and unorthodox methods to flush the sniper out. "Or better yet, particulars?"

"Yes, .50 BMG by the sound of it. North-west side probable. Doubt he's gonna move. M95s are heavy and if he does will be nearby." Änders said and began to move back out to snipe the sniper. He was the best sniper Maychian Intelligence Services had and he knew that if he died, shit would hit the fan back home and his superiors try to find someone to replace him. But, he was a sniper and it was his job. Anton did nothing to stop him. He knew that Änders' Maychian honor was something you didn't want to get in the way of, and he had the scars to prove it.

However, that didn't mean Anton couldn't do anything to help. Thinking quickly, he took the closest person shaped object in the room, a mannequin left behind by the previous tenant. I'm not going to ask why anyone keeps mannequins at home. He said to himself and looked at the object queerly. Then, he threw it onto the pallet they used. Sure enough, the sniper opened fire again, shattering the head of the plastic dummy. "Fuck! He's deadly."

Before Anton even managed to say 'deadly', Änders moved. He took aim and caught sight of the sniper cycling the bolt, just probably a few meters form his last probable location. Instinctively, he adjusted for elevation and wind, then with a muttered prayer to the Maychian god of war, pulled the trigger. The enemy sniper took a bullet in the head, just below his eye. The silenced weapon still sounded loud to the men, but he doubted anyone below could hear. "That...Was close," Änders said with a sigh of relief. "That rat bastard damn near-" Then, he saw Anton's fearful gaze. He turned around, just in time to see the body slumped over a barrier precariously.

Directly over the party. It wouldn't take much for the body to slip and fall. Even a slight gust of wind would do.

"Archer, Archer! We've got a problem. Enemy sniper neutralized, but his body is in danger of falling into the party. Repeat, in danger. Maychian team relocating. We'll conduct counter-sniper activities. Approximate ten mikes till we're in position." Anton said as he drew his pistol and followed Änders, rushing out of the apartment. Just as they got out, they ran into two other enemy agents, their weapons, submachine guns brought to bear. Anton wasted no time and placed a bullet into both men before running for the stairs, heading up.

[Oslea]

"Shit," Archer muttered under his breath, breaking out in a cold sweat. "Roger that - You're our only sniper support up there now, since Vulture is gone." Taking a sip of punch to calm himself, he took a deep breath to restore his composure and leaned against a pillar. A waiter doing round with a plate of hors d'oevures offered one to Archer, which he chewed and swallowed almost immediately.

"I can't do anything about the body except run into the damn building he was in and pull him up myself, but I can't do that. I think this just means we need to be prepared... Let me check for today's forecast." Pulling out his PDA, he accessed his weather forecast app to check tonight's predictions.

"Shit. High winds at the very least by 12am," he relayed to the Maychians. "We're working against the clock here."

---

Hannah traversed the poolside, passing lampposts, waiters serving food, and the buffet table to meet Carlos Bordello. The large crowd of people made it hard to have any sort of situational awareness; she couldn't see more than 1 meter around here. She wasn't exactly sure where she was going.

When Sam Cage and Hannah finally made it out of the sea of people, she quickly noticed three green lawn chairs, two of which were occupied by women, and the last one empty. Beside each chair was a table that supported bottles of expensive Hennessey liquor - probably $2,400 a bottle, she thought. And here they were, people doing body shots with them and all sorts of degrading acts unfit for an expensive portion of alcohol. Though, to be honest, she did want to try some.

"Bordello is away on a washroom break, I am told," Cage told Hannah. "This gives us some time for fun before he comes back."

Pushing her to the empty chair, he immediately began to caress and kiss Hannah. While attempting to seem the least bit interested, she looked on the table beside herself and identified what she thought was Bordello's drink, and tapped her fingernails over it; the drugs would dissolve in the drink in a matter of seconds. Her task done, she continued her forced public lovemaking session with Cage, desperately hoping Bordello would come back so she could end her charade.

[Maychion]

"Solid copy," Anton said as he and Änders set up shop on a higher floor. He hoped that whoever was chasing them would think they were still in their former position and thus stumbled into the traps he had set up. However, since the high-tech stuff were still downstairs, Anton had to make traps with whatever they had on the scene. A trip wire there, a falling block here...It would at best serve as a warning for them to check their six. "High winds at 12 am," Anton told Änders. "And we're pulling sniper duty, so look sharp."

"My favorite," Änders said with a grin and increased the zoom of his sniper rifle, scanning the rooftops and possible areas for a sniper to hide in for targets while Anton kept an eye on the party below. The rooftops looked clear, but Änders decided to play it safe and the both of them dropped to the floor, peering out a decorative hole in the balcony instead. "Sniper spotted. Saw us too," Änders said and pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the enemy gunman between the eyes, making him fall back on his back, much to the two men's relief. He pulled the trigger again, killing the spotter next to the sniper.

"Um...Oh...Shit..." Anton murmured and opened a connection to Archer. "I'm not sure if he's seen you before, but Bordello on the move back to previous location. Will pass by you from your east. E.T.A. two mikes. Take caution."

[Trolololistan]

A tall man dressed in khakis and a white dress shirt was leaning against a tree in the pitch blackness of the courtyard across from Bordello's condominium. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he saw that it was a quarter to eight. The man stood up and walked up to the curb, after straightening his shirt and checking his reflection in the mirror of a parked car, he walked across the street.

"I'm moving in." He muttered.
"Good." A voice in his earpiece replied, "Remember, Zhukov, you're here to get information. Bagging Bordello comes later."

Carefully making his way around the building, Zhukov looked for his point of entry. An unguarded, locked back door that he had discovered while snooping around earlier. Once he reached the door, Zhukov decided to try the handle first and to his surprise it was unlocked. "Someone's been through here already." He whispered. "That or I'm expected."
"Either way," the voice said, "continue with the mission, just be on your guard."

Zhukov began searching the ground floor. It was mostly storage rooms and various other utility closets, many of which were inhabited by party-goers wishing to engage in more private activities. Eventually, he stumbled into the party itself. As he was hardly Oslean, Zhukov intended to avoid the crowds as much as possible. A single figure, however, standing towards the edge of the group caught his attention. He was wearing a black shirt and black pants and had a rather worried expression on his face. The man was also furiously muttering to himself. Reading the worried man's lips, he could make out bits of what he was saying "only sniper support up there now...can't do anything about the body..."

Kneeling down, as if to lace up his shoe, Zhukov removed the small PSS silenced pistol from it's hiding place on his calf. With the pistol easily concealed in his hand, Zhukov walked around the edge of the room till he was directly behind the man, who was still muttering to himself. Placing one hand firmly on the man's shoulder, he pressed the pistol into his back. "Now," he said into the man's ear, "If you'd be so kind as to accompany me to the men's room, I'd like to have a chat with you."

[The Grand World Order]

((OOC: If there's anything wrong with this post, do tell me... I wish to add another spy group to counter yours. Sorry if it seems a bit godmoddy.))

Bordello's Condominium

Carlos's phone began to ring- a text message.

Were he to read it, it would be from a blocked number, but the message certainly meant it was someone with knowledge.

"OCIS inbound. Go to the 49th floor. Bring guards. Stay away from any windows. Unit 4935, be there. We can keep the OCIS from bothering you in the future."

Who would send such a message?

Unit 4935, 49th Floor

Jerry Appleseed had just finished sending the message to Bordello's phone. There were 15 other men in his condo- a "borrowed" one. The owner of the room had been knocked out and continuously pumped with sedatives to keep him from talking or becoming as hassle; at least his home hadn't been targeted by the Whiteshirts, for they would've simply forced him to commit suicide.

No, Mr. Appleseed was a Non-Official Cover agent belonging to the Federation's Directorate of Reconnaissance and Intelligence; the other men around him were Special Reconnaissance Division operatives, who were widely believed to act as a secret police in the GWO. In reality, they weren't, but that didn't make them any less deadly. There was a clear contrast between Appleseed and the SRD troops: Appleseed was wearing a pinstripe waistcoat over a white collared shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a black tie, with black slacks, and had two MI-P57 machine pistols tucked in his shoulder holsters (not to dual wield, but to allow him to deliver more shots at the start of a gunfight, and to give him the ability to draw with either hand- even normal GWO troops were expected to shoot proficiently with either hand). The SRD men were wearing field uniforms, light body armor, and ski masks, and were carrying an assortment of fairly heavy firearms, as well as OED headsets.

His goal? Secure the ledger by protecting Carlos Bordello and making an immunity deal with him. The reason the GWO wanted the ledger was unknown to anyone taking part in the mission. The only people who officially knew were Chancellor Slaag and Grand Commander Victor himself. They wished to secure Oslea's launch codes so that they could turn them over to the Whiteshirts, a "vigilante" group based in the GWO that was famous for its flat-out atrocities committed abroad. Their portfolio included everything from school massacres and assassinations to nuclear terrorism. Giving them the nuclear power of an entire nation would make them a much more potent force serving the Enlightenment, which was the ultimate goal of the Federation.

Appleseed was prepared to do anything for his mission, just like any good soldier or spy. This meant potentially murdering intelligence operatives from other countries, as well as innocent people if it became necessary. His men were also ready to do just the same, and the P-90s, Kriss Super Vs, and L115 sniper rifles hoarded along one wall showed just this.

[Trivval]

Three Eight Two Alpha Seven,
Charlie Oscar One One Eight.
Operation: Tango Four India Quebec,
Eastwood City,
Oslea.

---

~ Stand by, stand by! ... Shot fired! ~
~ This is One, sit rep! ~
~ One, Four. X-Ray Four fired, Yankee Bird down! ~
~ Four, One, FLIR on X-Ray Four. ~
~ One, Three, Eyes on Yankee Mike, they have pinged -- ~
~ X-Ray Four down, I say again, Yankee Mike removed X-Ray Four! ~
~ One copies, Two Sitrep. ~

---

It hadn’t taken them long to find a baker who cooked for Bordello, after all, the man did have his fingers in all types of pie. This one cooked foreign pies; he also took other pies to bakers across the ocean. After identifying themselves, and calling upon the Debt, the ‘Monks’ had no problem to getting to the party.

The man never believed he would be called upon, and now that they knew what he did, he was sure that he would hear from them now and again. What he knew about them? Next to Nothing - They worked for the Chapel, which was true. He assumed that they were a part of the Book; he feared that they were Templars, which was false. No, the ‘Monks’ were just members of a different sect; just like the Du’Varii were a sect of the Church too.

The ‘baker’, a senior partner of the Hoplite foreign department, stood next to ‘Two’, playing the part of brothers - ‘Two’ was defiantly the youngest of the pair. However they looked enough alike to get away with the act, and they easily got past the bouncer. Neither of them would suspect, at least not for a while, that they were Cousins. The Librarians were probably aware, but they had only found the ‘baker’ a few days before the party, so in no way was the set up planned.

The ‘baker’ smiled as two nude girls ran past, chasing a man clutching his drink so it wouldn’t spill. ‘Two’ smirked and pinched one on the buttocks as she ran past with a giggle, playing the part of a happy partygoer. The noise around him was consuming, the music flowing through his chest and conversation melding together to form the Sounds of the Party ($1.95 on iTunes). With all the clamor of the party, he would have never known of the two dead Snipers in the buildings surrounding until X-Ray Four fell into the pool.

‘Two’s earpiece buzzed as the traffic on the channel increased tenfold, and his eyes widened slightly as he heard of the shootings.

Gah, he thought, his brow furrowing slightly as he wondered how to get the message off without seeming strange. Making up his mind he turned to his brother and keyed the voice transmitter, “Hey, bro, Look I’m going to get a Drink, you want one?”
The ‘baker’ nodded, understanding, “Yeah, thanks. Hey, you feeling alright?”
“Ha,” ‘Two’ snorted, “Yeah, I’m Fine, but how do you deal with all this, there is Nothing Happening.”
The ‘baker’ laughed as ‘Two’ walked away to the bar.

---

~ Copy that, Two. ~
~ One, Three, eyes on Yankee One. ~
~ Copy, Three. ~

---

‘Two’ leant up against the bar and shouted to the barman over the sounds of Daft Punk, “Can I get two lagers, mate?”
The barman just nodded and turned around and disappeared into some other room. ‘Two’ turned around and placed his back against the hard wood of the bar. His earpiece buzzed again and he acknowledged the message. Looking around the rooftop he saw something that caught his eye.

Sco-damn, he thought as he saw a stunning woman in white enter through the door. It didn’t matter that she had a bloke on her arm, she was amazing. She glanced around the room and he noticed who she is. Damn, he thought as he nudged the man next to him who also was looking at the Woman-in-White. “Hey?” he keyed the transmitter at that time, “Do you know if that is Sarah?”
The man raised his eyebrow, “Huh?” he slurred.
“That lass in white, going near the pool?” he indicated over with a point of his near-empty bottle.
The man shook his head, “Nah. I would never be able to touch that.”
‘Two’ chuckled as the barman called out to him, and he collected the two bottles with a nod of thanks.

---

~ Four, One, get the Trigger on Sierra. ~
~ One, Four, Wait... Four has the Trigger. ~
~ Confirm Sierra, Four? ~
~ Four Confirms. ~
~ Net, this is One, Yankee Sierra is Complete. ~

---

“Here you go,” said ‘Two’ after finding the ‘baker’ had migrated to the other side of the pool.
His ‘brother’ took the proffered bottle, “Thanks.”
‘Two’s brother had found himself a friend, but that was neither ‘Two’s problem nor care. He had other things to do. After sitting down and listening to the duo talk about their life, ‘Two’ nudged his brother and pointed to Sierra, whom he had been keeping an eye on. “What are my chances, do you think?” he asked the two of them.
His ladyfriend chuckled, “Looks like she’s got a friend already.”

“Huh?” he muttered, before finally ‘noticing’ the man she was walking too. He tried his best to look disappointed, which, he found to his amusement, wasn’t hard.
His ‘brother’ let out a short laugh, “Better luck next time, little brother.”

---

~ Stand by, Stand by! ... This is Three, I have eyes on a Victor. ~
~ This is One, I do not have Victor, Three confirm Trigger. ~
~ This is Three, I have the Trigger - Khaki and Dress White, approaching Yankee One. ~
~ Three, One, Eyes on Victor. ~
~ One, Four, Sierra is near X-Ray Bravo’s Seat. Oh.. Sco-damn, this is-- ~
~ Four! Sitrep! ~
~ One, Four, getting a lovescene here. ~
~ Four, keep it off the net. ~
~ One, Four, Copy. ~
~ Stand by! This is Three, Victor is behind Yankee One! ~
~ Sitrep, Three! ~
~ One, Three, Victor has grasped Yankee One, Wait. ... Victor has a Short! ~
~ Three, keep the Trigger. Two, One, see what you can do, they are close to the restroom. ~

---

‘Two’ coughed and placed down his bottle. Smiling at his ‘brother’ and his ladyfriend, ‘Two’ stood up and moved away from them. “Excuse me, for a moment. I’ll be back soon.”
The ‘baker’ gave a slight nod, knowing there was something beyond him going on and continued talking, holding the woman’s rapt attention.

‘Two’ drifted away, moving towards Yankee One and the Victor, hoping that nothing serious would happen.

---

---

Three Eight Two Alpha Seven,
Charlie Oscar One One Eight.
Operation: Tango Four India Quebec,
Ryori Islands,
Oslea.

---

He punched in the speeddial on his mobile while he glanced out the window. The car was swerving past the ‘rural’ traffic. Driving the car was the newer guy in their team, ‘Four’.
Someone picked up the other end of the phone and gave a non-committal grunt.
“Hey man, we picked up three Kilo’s of Fertiliser like you asked,” he said brightly, while looking back at the three ‘Kilos’ in the back seat.
The man on the other end brightened up by force of will, “Oh, brilliant! Yeah, take them to FOB’s place.”
It took him a second to work it out, “Oh, yeah. Alright.”
“Oh, man, by the way, FOB’s got some ‘See’-‘Tee’-‘Are’ if you want to play bring your kit, yeah?”
The man smothered the mouth piece and looked at ‘Four’, “You ready for some ‘See’-‘Tee’-‘Are’, mate?”
The driver nodded his consent as he passed another car, and the man took his hand off the mobile. “Yeah, Yeah, that’s great.”
“Alright, see you there,” was all he heard before the line went dead.

Even though Team One and Two were at Eastwood, Three was ready at Ryori and another team could be made up in a moment’s notice from the assets on the Islands. They were ready.

---

---

OOC: Tell me if you need some translation.

[Trolololistan]

(quick OOC from phone: I think there's some confusion here. If you can see the pool and where Bordello WAS that means you're on the 70th floor. Archer and Zhukov are on the boottom floor. Sorry about an OOC only post.)

[Trivval]

(quick OOC from phone: I think there's some confusion here. If you can see the pool and where Bordello WAS that means you're on the 70th floor. Archer and Zhukov are on the boottom floor. Sorry about an OOC only post.)

Really? Bugger. I'll fix that up first chance I get.

[Oslea]

Feeling the faint outline of a pistol on his back, Archer rolled his eyes in disappointment but attempted not to make a scene out of it - he planned to take care of this man in private, so he wouldn't compromise the party. After all, anything that broke the mood would destroy their chance at using Bordello for information.

"Ah, shit. Let's, er, go for a break, yeah?" Trying to imply complacency, Archer slowly weaved his way around the crowds, trailed by the man, following Archer into the men's room. He brushed his fingers over the metal grip of his 9mm, hidden at his side under his dress shirt; he knew he had a way out.

---

Now, if you'd be so kind as to accompany me to the men's room, I'd like to have a chat with you.

The deathly cold words snaked their way into Hannah's ear, carrying with it the implicit possibility of compromise. That voice certainly wasn't Archer's.

At the very least, Bordello came back looking happier than ever. Downing his spiked glass of Hennessey liquor, he stood triumphantly and raised his glass to the sky, hollering incessantly, the stench of alcohol and sex emanating from his body. Sensing his comeback, Hannah pushed Cage off and Cage straightened himself out in front of the criminal mastermind.

"It's been a while, friend," Cage said, hugging Bordello. "Ever since we got this damn government on their knees."

Bordello laughed heartily, and too another swig of liquor, this time directly from the bottle. "Tis' good! My plan for shit to go down is almost good to go, but now, we party!" Falling onto the chair, almost on Hannah (who had jumped out of the way at the last minute), he loosened his body into a reclining position. Just at that moment, his phone began to ring; he promptly threw it out of his pants onto the hard concrete floor.

"Fuck business, let's have some fun, yes?" Bordello pulled out a cigar and lit it with a lighter encased in diamonds. When it came to wealth, modesty was not in Bordello's vocabulary. His head bodyguard Lazar, always present at Bordello's side, picked his phone up from the concrete and opened the text message that caused it to ring. Lazar was the only one trusted with Bordello's personal phone and belongings; he had saved Bordello in an altercation with police about a decade ago. Forever grateful to him for saving his life, Bordello offered Lazar a lucrative job as his top bodyguard and through the years his trust for Lazar grew to the point where he was practically Bordello's right-hand man.

"Boss, this is important. I think you should look at this," Lazar said, waving the phone at Bordello to get him to pick it up. "People here want to see you. OCIS is coming."

"OCIS is always coming. Always shooting blanks, ha," Bordello replied. "They never do anything right. Lazar, have some fun and enjoy life, girls, money, booze, sex. Come here, Lazar." Bordello pulled out a cigar, planted it in Lazar's mouth and lit it. "There you go, now stop bitching like a baby and stop ruining my party." Taking two puffs from his cigar, Bordello continued to engage in conversation with his preferred female guests - and Sam Cage, of course.

Damn it, I'll have to do this myself, Lazar reasoned, taking the elevator down to the 49th floor. He smoothed the creases out of his designer suit on the way, which was worn over his Type IIIA body armor stolen from an Oslean States Army cache.

[The Grand World Order]

49th Floor

Appleseed was looking through the spyhole in the condo's door, waiting. It almost resembled a child sitting by the fireplace waiting for Santa Clause to arrive, only with guns, suits, and nuclear launch codes involved.

When Lazar arrived, Appleseed was slightly concerned. Text messages couldn't be intercepted or traced like normal calls, but this wasn't Bordello- if it was an OCIS agent, things were about to get ugly. Appleseed opened the door, quickly grabbed Lazar and pulled him in, and shut the door before anyone could stumble upon what just happened. He released Lazar in the direction of the couch before drawing one of his MI-P57s, suppressor attached, and said, "Who are you? Show me your phone and empty your pockets. Show me an ID."

The SRD men were in another room, but they were ready to burst in if an altercation occurred. Already, things weren't looking pleasant.

The D.R.I. knew who Lazar was, but a picture of him hadn't been included in the mission portfolio, only his name, as he was not considered much of an HVT. However, this operation was about to prove the eggheads back in the Spire that they were wrong.

[Maychion]

"Hey, hey," Anton muttered to his partner. "49th floor, you see that window there?" He pointed in the general direction of where he wanted Änders to look. "Something's going on."

The sniper shifted and took a look through a small window that allowed him a view of what was going on inside. "Do people greet each other with pistols around these parts?" He asked jokingly and focused on the man on the couch. "Looks familiar...Anton, do me a favor and bring out the file, thanks." His partner removed the file from his backpack and opened it carefully, finding the dossiers and handing them to Änders. He looked away from the scope and looked through the documents. "Ah, here we go. Certain person named Lazar, last name unknown. Seems to be a close associate of Bordello."

"Well, whoever's pointing the gun at him doesn't look like a friend of his," Anton commented. "And Archer's been...Shall we say, inconvenienced."

Änders shrugged. "What else can we do? Keep observing."