| Logs |
2002 September 18
| Cosmic Guardians |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Guardians Logs |
Background RP - Reynard - Conclusion
More Than He Can Chew:Reynard's StoryConclusion: Loose Ends
Reynard manages to get back to his dingy hotel in one piece, though he notes that there are two holes in his spidersilk lined coat, enough to puncture, but not enough to rip the lining, making it useless. Apaprently there were some close calls the bounty hunter hadn't realized. And he waits, patiently, for word. After two hours, Tyco calls him, to set up a meet. Shortly, Holmes and Tyco arrive at the Super 8 motel, and sit down with Reynard. "That was an interesting tactic you took, Reynard...awful risky." Tyco notes as they get comfortable. "You're lucky Lillian and I were covering you."
Reynard has his coat off, and is annoyed he lost both of his tailor-made Glocks. Those babies had saved him, in several scrapes, and now they're likely owned by a local organized crime goon, or military slime. But, he's breathing, he's free, and in foresight, took the microwhip, so not a total loss. He'll have to mend his coat, of course; the arm is still too damaged from the Arachne bullet-trading. He welcomes the pair in, and sits down, himself. "Well, it was either that, or let you continue to shoot, while I skittered away like a rat. Thank Lillian profusely for me; that's the second time she's done that."
Tyco grins. "I'll let her know. In the meantime...we have some presents for you." He opens up the duffel he brought with him, and reaches in...producing the weapons that Reynard had to leave behind. "Katie had an opportunity...and we didn't want to give the General the chance to use the guns against you, either through registration, or through arcane contact."
Reynard's smile is bright. "Thank you! And, her too." He slowly unpacks the bag, and nods his head, over them. "I have my weapons through an Arms dealer, so there's no tracking... The arcane bit, you have me there, I guess." He looks back up, "And, was Kranston still stuck in his place, when they left?"
Holmes shakes his head. "Well, let me tell the whole story...Katie was able to get down to the meeting place just after you left. The General had some sort of argument with the mob errand boy the General was meeting with. The goons left in a huff, with the General saying he'd schedule a meet later on. Obviously, they couldn't question Kranston in his state, but they were able to unglue him from the ground...it's a very simple solvent to dissolve the polymer, after all. One of the agents also took pictures of Kranston for some reason, some trucks arrived, which they put Kranston and your guns into. Katie took the opportunity then to grab the bag...and this." Holmes pulls out what looks like a memory stick for a digital camera. "Maybe you can use this to get your payment for Kranston...he certainly looks dead, and it's unlikely we'll ever see him again, yeah?"
Reynard listens intently, and takes the memory stick, reguarding it. Pondering the possibilities, here. Ethically, he shouldn't collect the money. He doesn't know Kranston is done for, and possibly still alive, and a chance he could be gunning for the man who stuck him to that spot. On the other hand, Kranston was allready dead to begin with, and perhaps the General disposed of him, after information was given. After a bit of deliberation, he decides to cash in, slipping the stick into a pocket. "I had the impression the General was planning on having the hoods send hellfire upon the Arachne, with a bit of goverment-bought weaponry."
Holmes nods. "From what we overheard, that was our impression too...perhaps a one-two punch, with the cops on one side, and the robbers on the other. Arachne is involved in criminal activities, after all, and established organizations wouldn't like that, much. Whether the General can still get help from Organized crime at this point...well, that's not our business. We did what we had to, and the rest is up to the General, whoever he represents. Oh, and by the way...I spoke with a friend in the police force on your behalf. Langton won't likely let you just get away unremarked...and if you had any conflict with the cops, they might remember you...Hawks will make sure they disremember you before Langton can ask."
Reynard lets out a breath, a bit of relaxation, as he eases into his position. Easing back, "Delightful. All right... So I'm covered, I've no traces, my weapons are back, as is pictures of the likely destroyed Kranston." A single nod, everything seems to be in order. He then reguards Tyco and Holmes. "And, how does this put me, in reguards to the UA? Am I a touch too reckless for you fellows' business?"
Tyco and Holmes look at each other, a wry knowing look. "Let's just say that there are all kinds of styles, methods, for dealing with situations. What you did is no more unusual than what another in your place might have done...and you walked away from it. Be glad you had others backing you up, though. In the meantime, I suggest you get out of town, now. Just because the police won't be helpful on the information front, doesn't mean the General won't co-opt them to help find you." Tyco says.
"I'm allready gone, gentlemen," Reynard replies, looking about the room. "I'll be leaving shortly after you two do." Leaning forward, he offers a hand. "Thank you, gents, and if ever you need help, well, you have the number to my answering machine."
Tyco shakes it, and then, so does Holmes...in the process, putting a card in his hand. When Reynard looks at it, it has an email address. "When you get home, contact this address...and welcome to the Alliance, Reynard."
Reynard smiles, slipping the card into his pocket. "And, I welcome it."
Later that evening, a lone motorcycle, loaded down with bags, drives out of Boston. The only thing left behind, a small envelope in a FedEx box. To a specific, rich entreprenuer, with no return address. Inside, a single memory stick for a digital camera. Beside it, a note. From what you can see, and I know, no one will ever hear of the man known as Kranston again.
After returning to his office in New York City, Reynard does indeed email the offered address, and makes contact in person with a UA Phantom, who tells Reynard more about the Alliance. After that brief meeting, however, there is next to no Alliance contact over the next few weeks...then comes a mysterious email around a month afterwards, in February of that year...
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