Guardians -- Logs

Reynard eyes the television warily. He's layed down for a short nap, and eaten, but afterwards growing restless. He'd checked the paper. Snooping for leads on Kranston, or anything else for that matter, but the television seemed the immediate response to the hotel shoot-out. Every minute, almost, he glances at the phone, ever the caged predator, wanting to act, yet restrained.

The television, after flipping around a bit, does bear fruit. Apparently reporters had found out about the shoot-out in the hotel, and were interviewing hotel employees and guests. The two Arachne women appear to have gotten away: the reporters mention there was a bood trail leading from the 7th floor to the stairwell, but it dissapeared completely somewhere near the 3rd floor. There does not appear to be any indication that the cops know that the Arachne was involved...or at least, if they do know, they're not telling the news. There is also mention of a hotel room that was shot up, with remains of a riot grenade that had gone off inside. No mention of the spiders either; the cameras were not let into the room. Afterwards, the news segues back to some gameshow.

Reynard shakes his head. But, all in all, he's not surprised. The police generally do keep a wrap on things. Considering the things he's discovered recently, he doesn't blame them, for that matter. Crossing to the phone, the decision is made to get out of his cage. He calls Tyco.

The phone rings twice, and then a familiar voice picks up. "Tyco here. Send it."

"Yes," Reynard replies into the reciever, "This is Reynard. I spoke with your friend Holmes thoroughly. If you've touched the news, you'd likely heard about the shoot-out at a Hotel near by. Apparently, the Arachne are feeling antsy. And I'm feeling the same way. Any leads on Kranston?"

The voice at the other end seems to curl up into a smile. "Ah, our itenerant bounty hunter. The Arachne made a try for you, you say? No surprise there. That lightning throwing woman looked quite irate when Holmes almost ran her over. I take it you've ensconced yourself in safer surroundings?"

Reynard glances around. "If safer surroundings means seedy and cheap, then I should be in good hands. Apparently I've pissed them off, quite a bit." A smile curls upon his own lips. "And, for some odd reason, I want to continue to snip the strands of their web."

Tyco chuckles. "Well, you're either very brave, or very stupid. Or both. Then again, that only makes you just like the rest of us. Don't tell me where you are; I've got you on Caller ID, I'll just take down the number. Probably no one is listening in, but it's always good to pretend like they are." He pauses a moment, as if listening to someone else talk. "Get some rest while you can. We don't have too much additional information yet, but we should in a few hours. And keep your guns oiled. You're probably going to need them soon enough."

"I most certainly will. Give me a ring, when you're ready. Or, I'll meet you elsewhere. But, one thing: What are we going to do about Kranston? It took an earth scorcher to nearly put him down; do we need another one?"

Tyco seems to consider the offer. "If you've got access to the heavy firepower, see if you can get your hands on it. If Kranston sticks to public areas, we'll probably have to take him down with small arms...but it's good to keep our options open if the situation changes." He pauses. "What the hell is a bounty hunter doing with grenades anyway?"

Reynard considers the question, before returning, "It proved one hell of a distraction, didn't it?"

Tyco snorts. "According to Lillian, you were trying to do more than distract. Whatever. Just try not to be caught with the stuff: a weapons permit won't let you lug around a rocket launcher in your open coat. And no tactical nukes."

Reynard snorts. "Tactical nukes have too big a blast radius, I agree. Besides, I want to get Kranston out of the picture, not make him glow. Speak to you later."

"Stay safe." The connection clicks closed.

Opening his black book, Reynard makes a call through to Philly. "Come on..." The phone rings three times....then four....and finally is picked up. "Yeah?" Dimmer says, seemingly out of breath.

Reynard says, "Dimmer! My friend, did you find anything on this military man?"

"Damn, you are impatient, aren't you." Dimmer growls. "What's a matter? Can't find any good porn down there to relax you?"

Reynard chuckles. "I think you're forgetting I'm the one who can actually find women to relax with. I'm sorry. I got shot at recently; it makes you get a little impatient."

Dimmer starts to sound serious. "Shot at? By who? Aw shit, don't tell me you mixed it up with the Arachne..."

Reynard sighs. "Unfortunately, I am. We traded bullets in a Hotel hall. Luckily, one recieved a limp, and her partner flaked."

"Right well, okay, then, you have a right to be calling. Sooner you can get out of tehere the better. Now, I found out some stuff about your General...nothing solid, though. Just what I got off the Playground. Just so you're warned."

"So it could be a scriptkiddie spewing rumors and imagination yarn. Forewarned. Now, give it."

"Well, It's not that it's not reliable, necessarily...it's just that no one necessarilyy knows the full dice. Word is that the General is a big wig mouthpiece for some org...he did his share of soldiering at one point, but his current job is fundraising and diplomacy. He's on good terms with a lot of politicians on the Hill...and a lot of pull with the Unistat armed forces. Thing is, no one's sure who he works for. Some people say MJ12, some say CIA or CAA...but there's a whisper - a barest hint - that his real aliegence is to Aegis."

Reynard gets a pen and paper, copying this information down. "Ah hah. This does make some sense. Infact, it makes a lot more. Keep going?" He doesn't mention he doesn't know the names of most of the organiztions Dimmer refers to: HOlmes could fill him in anyway, most likely.

"Well, I still haven't found out why he's down here...officially or otherwise...but Aegis's beef is against non-humans and supposedly 'magical orders'. They don't like the Falcar, they don't really care for the Children of Bast - despite that it's supposedly a perfectly legit religious order - and they definitely don't care for the Arachne. And if you're dancing with the Spider Bitches, my guess is they know who he is, and want him offed for some reason. Am I right?"

Reynard says, "Bingo, my computer savvy friend. This is all about an assassination on the General, and the Arachne is backing the cash.""

Dimmer groans. "Man, you sure know how to pick em, Fox-Boy. Any chance you can renegociate your fee?"

Reynard sighs. "Well, hopefully I can get more. This guy I'm hunting is much harder to kill then I first percieved him." Isn't that an understatement..."

Dimmer hesitates. "Right well...be careful, man. I'll see what else I can find, but I'm not sure there is much else. There isn't any Aegis shit written down anywhere, I only know what I know by word of mouth. Call me tomorrow."

Reynard says, "You be careful too. Don't be poking around and get your poker bitten off." Dimmer snorts. "Don't need to tell me twice." He hangs up.

Reynard sighs, and hangs up on his end, easing back into the bed. "More waiting. Lovely." He thinks for a bit, and then decides to follow Tyco's advice, on aquiring that heavier weaponry. He quickly departs, and lets out the back of his coat, so the flap obscures his liscence plate some. Reynard drives to a pawnshop near the airport, at the edge of Boston's North End. Heading inside, he simply gives a number to the woman behind the desk, who lets him into the back room. "Thank you," He offers, recieving a key, and unlocks a locker. A small smile, at the small stash of weaponry that greets him. There's another Glock 20 to replace the sidearm he lost in the warehouse...along with a .357 S+W revolver, and a box of hollowpoints for it. There's also a pump action shotgun, and several boxes of ammo for it: buckshot, slugs, and even a box of shredders, which the bounty hunter usually uses on locks, not people. Also there are two grenades: one fragmentary, one SPLAT.

Reynard smiles ruefully. He's tempted to take everything. He does replace his Glock, and the grenades to their straps. He removes the revolver, and nods to himself. This should put a hole large enough in Kranston to make him think. Taking twelve shells, he places them into some speedloaders, not bothering to load the weapon yet. He leaves the shotgun, since he's got one with him already, but he does take a handful of the flechette 'shredders'. Kranston took a pistol shot like it was a spitball. Hopefully the fletchette should rip a bit up. PUlling his coat closed, he locks the cabinet, returns the key to the clerk, and returns to his bike.

After getting back to the hotel, Reynard takes the time to check the weapons, make sure they're in good condition... and sets his outfit up with a third holster for his revolver, and hooks in his jacket for the shotgun. He also takes the opportunity to eat as he waits. Around 7 o'clock, the hotel phone rings. Reynard picks up the phone rather quickly, "Hello?"

"Reynard, this is Holmes. Meet us at the road to Hanscom Air Force Base on Route 2A. Do you know how to get there?"

Reynard chews his lip, and considers. "I believe I passed by the area around the air base, before. I think I can do that, then. I have some information for you."

"It can wait." Holmes replies in clipped tones. "If you want in, then you don't want to be late for the General's arrival. Bring guns." Click.

Reynard glances at the phone with a chuckle. "He doesn't know me, does he?" Commenting aloud to himself, the phone is hung up. "I surely hope they have enough for themselves." Taking his equipment, leaves with his pad of paper, eager to get this done. It takes a good twenty minutes for Reynard to get out of Watertown, and onto Route 2, which takes him out into the rural Greater Boston area. Thankfully, Route 2 is not clogged, and the Interstate is similarly freed up when he turns onto there to get to Route 2A. The sun has gone low in the sky, at the edge of twilight as Reynard makes tracks. Following signs, he putters past a conservation area when he comes to the road to the Base. Across the way, in the parking lot of what looks like a closed farm stand, is a familiar black van. It's headlights blink twice at Reynard.

Reynard turns into the parking lot, and circles around the van, to park his several yards away. Then, casually, although in an attemp to be hidden about it, transfers the shotgun from a saddlebag into his coat. Easily, the hunter walks over to the van, giving a brief knock on the sliding door.

The door slides open, and Tyco is there. He's still wearing black, but his shirt has changed to one that reads:Carpe Noctem. He nods and lets the bounty hunter in, sliding the door closed behind him. Once done, he slips into the passenger seat with Holmes, who is driving. The only other one in the back of the vanthe rabbi, who waves to Reynard. "Hi. I'm Ezra, by the way. Sorry about last night."

Reynard waves back poletely, and settles into a place within the back. "Not to worry Father," A sudden pause as he's not exactly sure about the proper reference of a Jewish holy man. "Not to worry. Very restful... But you can understand my hesitation in regards to magic." He has to assume that's what it was. A glance around. "Some of your people didn't come? Or they're scouting?"

Holmes pulls the van out of the lot, and drives towards the base. "Lillian is...well, currently on the wing." Ezra says. "And Katie's carrying the samauri's sword, so they're together."

"What are you carrying?" Tyco grunts from the front.

Reynard nods his head, and shifts to glance out of the front of the car, before shifting his attention more to everyone. "I've gotten some information about our mysterious General. Be aware that it's not solid, but possible. There's no immediate indication who our General is working for, but a likely agent is Aegis. Who have a dislike of non-humans, and 'magical orders', especially our Arachne."

Holmes curses. "Aegis? Crap. That could make things difficult. According to our information, he's just CAA...but, you're right. If he's Aegis, that gives the Arachne a reason to dislike him."

Reynard says, "Who's Aegis?" He asks, leaning forward. "And, as to what I brought to our little party, two Glocks, and a .357 S&W, spitting hollows. Aswell, a pump-action toating slugs, scatters, and shredders, a Splatter grenade, and a Shrapnel one.""

Tyco hmmphs amusedly. "What, no Thermite?" In response to Reynard, as he pulls a curve, Holmes says, "Aegis is like the anti-secret society. They go after guys like the RKT, the Arachne...even supposed good guys like the Rosicrucians They combat magical oriented groups and nasties like ghouls and vampires. Sort of a non-government version of Bureau 13. Which means that this General might have magical protections or magically capable bodyguards...good for him, but it might mean additional problems for us. Fuck. We're going to have to stay extra low profile. Aegis is someone we definitely don't want the attention of."

Reynard shakes his head. "I see... True, if they think We're part of the assassination attempt, that will likely make things quite difficult. On the other hand, it's a possible aid against Kranston. And who are these CAA chaps?"

"Moment. Get out of sight." Holmes cautions as the van comes to a stop. The window is rolled down, and a voice says, "Can I see your ID, please?" Holmes appears to hand something over, which is looked at, and then give back. "Go ahead, sir." The van moves on. After a moment, Tyco replies to Reynard's question. "Covert Activities Agency. They're a top secret subdivision of the CIA. They run all the black ops for the government, including destablising goverments, and actions against other secret societies. Question is, who's behalf is the General acting on? And why has the Arache targeted him, and why now?"

Reynard nods his head. Making a mental note, the hunter decides to find himself some information, and look into this, if he makes it out of the situation in one piece. "My informant told me that the General has influence on the Hill. Perhaps he's in Aegis's pocket, or is a headman for them? In either case, he's in a place where the Arachne can possibly take him out before he can upset their order?"

Holmes shakes his head. "Maybe. Or maybe he's in the process of doing something that they want to stop. But what? Supposedly, he's not a field officer, and hasn't been one for a while." He sighs. "At any rate, hopefully the Arachne won't try anything immediately. This is a military installation after all. At best we find out some more about Langton. At worst...your man Kranston is fully regenerated and isn't scared of trying to take him out right away."

Reynard considers. "Kranston is a sniper. Atleast, he prefers to snipe." A glance about. "Now, considering our surroundings, I'd think he wouldn't attempt something with all the heat around. Then again, he's got an ego a mile wide, so I wouldn't put it past him."

Holmes slows again, making a turn. "Tyco, you're our resident ghoul expert. Could Kranston have regenerated that quickly?" Tyco looks doubtful. "He can heal as fast as he can eat...but he did take a lot of damage, according to Lillian. Then again, maybe spells could help that process..."

"Don't look at me." says Ezra. "I have no ideas on spells to heal ghouls." He looks thoughtful. "Seeing as you're a ghoul, though, I might think of researching a spell that could help, though..."

"Or he could have stuffed himself full," Reynard puts in. He glances back towards Ezra. "So, how does the whole... magic Thing work?"

"Well, it's kinda hard to explain...and it's different for different people. Katie's an my magic are based on our faiths...but others are completely different. Like, the Rosicrusians magic is supposedly all about numbers and formulas...." Ezra starts to explain. "We can talk about this later, you two," Tyco interjects. He gets into the back as Holmes comes to a stop, and parks. Tyco rifles through a duffel, can comes up with two sets of binoculars...and a Gauss Needler. He grins. "Time to rock and roll."

Nodding to Ezra, the hunter's head turns toward the front of the van. "Something happening?" Brow rising, as he watches Tyco take from his bag the looking lenses... Except, he perks up, when the Needler emerges. "Quite a beautiful weapon, there," He observes. A hand drifts into his coat, carressing the handle to his magnum.

Tyco smiles. "One needs a sidearm like this doing what we do. Conventional weapons don't always work." Holmes slides into the back with the others. "Okay, Reynard...you get to go with me and Tyco. Ezra, you stay with the car, for now. We're not expecting any action, but we'll call if we need you." The rabbi nods, and then looks at Reynard. "We can have that conversation about magic later, if you want..." he offers brightly.

"Certianly," He replies to Ezra. Looking back at Tyco, he chuckles."I would definetly like to get my hands upon one of those. Or, at least, as soon as I set a little cash aside." He slides out of the van, fingers itching. "Let's be going, then. Is your ghost friend going to be getting in on the assistance?"

Tyco hops out after Reynard, with Holmes close behind. "As we said, Hiro's with Katie...and she's keeping a closer eye on things, since she's a little more stealthy than I am. Besides, our worthy samuari isn't all that great at range: he prefers up close and personal."

Reynard gives a quick nod, as he slips outside. "Of course. I just hope we'll have someone up close, distracting Kranston." He flicks his eyes around, to get his surroundings. He doesn't immediately question them, but he does wonder where the man is. Tyco looks at Holmes. "Right, where's the landing strip from here?" Holmes seems to take a moment to orient himself. "Hold on...it's been years since I was here, and I was a kid then." Another few seconds pass, and then he points towards a residential area inside the base, with lots of well kept one-story houses with green lawns. "We go through there, and then the administration buildings are on the other side. And the strip comes right up to there. I think. Hanscom doesn't exactly give out maps: the only reason that I have a vague idea about this place is that I came here a couple times to watch the jets perform." The van appears to be parked in a mostly empty lot, right next to a large brick building that reads "Hanscom Elementary School".

"Right then." Tyco says. "You take point. You're the quiet one." Holmes shrugs, and then takes off his sunglasses, to better see, slipping them in a jacket pocket. His cane in hand, he sets off across the road, weaving in and out of the shadows. Tyco pushes Reynard along, indicating he should go next.

Taking the cue, Reynard moves, heading along the side of the road toward the left side, toward the residential area. His eyes are on the supposed blind man, while he himself keeps quiet, tries to set to the shadows. He becomes the hunter, Holmes his open trail, the scent to his stalk.The three manage to make their way across the grassy lawns and in and out of the homey houses, and then across another street to a another complex and adjoining parking lot. Keeping away from the guards at the front of the building, Holmes guides the others to a small ladder that goes to the top of the one-story building. Once on top, Tyco gets out one of the binoculars and puts them to his eyes, scanning around. "Seems clear. For now. So we wait."

Reynard glances about, chewing his lips idly. "Do we know exactly where we're planning on him to be? Mayhap we should spread our location."

"We know he's gonna be landing on a private plane in about five minutes. That's all we know." says Tyco tersely. "And normally I'd agree, but we're trying to avoid being noticed, here. We're taking a chance, getting this close to begin with. The only ace we have in our pocket is that we've got military ID, but that might not stand up under scrutiny, especially if they find us on a rooftop." Holmes nods in quiet agreement, and gives the other pair of binocs to Reynard. "Here. You help Tyco keep a lookout. They're specially adapted for night vision."

Reynard, even if he is biologically adapted himself, simply nods in appreciation to the offering, taking up the binoculars, peering around.Although he simply watches, paticularly looking for good places where snipers would perch, his ears are much more alert, waiting for the telltale sounds of a plane.

A few minutes of scanning proves nothing useful. Reynard scopes out the control tower, which appears to be manned, as he can see movement, but there is no one perched atop it with a sniper rifle. The rest of the administration buildings seem similarly devoid of movement. Across the way, lights along the side of one of the landing strips are blinking, indicating, perhaps, that someone is going to be using that strip soon. Far in the distance, there are several cargo planes and fighter jets parked out towards another building network. But by Reyanrd's approximation, it's way too far away to try a shot from there.

Reynard waits impatiently. He looks around for places where Kranston might be hiding, but aware that the man knows his business.This is a military base; he'll be extra cautious, if he comes at all. Aware is he of the blinking lights, and the signs that someone may be coming. All he can do now, though, is simply wait.

A few minutes later, the sound of a jet engine can be heard. Down at the edge of the landing strip, a small figure can be seen: as it gets closer, he can see it's a small two engine jet as it slows, and then taxies in towards where the other planes are parked. There is then the sound of a jeep being started up, and all watchers can see as it drives over to where the jet appears to be coming to a halt. "Shit." says Holmes. "I thought it was going to come over here...if he's perched over on those buildings over there, we're fucked." A crow abruptly lands next to them. Holmes perks. "Lillian, go check out the buildings on the far side. If you see him, try to fuck him over and let us know. We can't afford trying to get over there unless we have to." The crow caws, and then takes to wing, flapping as fast as it can towards it's destination....

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Last modified: 2001-Oct-30 19:35:28

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