ic Viva Val Verde (IC)

[Sophistemon]

@Heritage

It hadn't taken much convincing. All Samuel Steiner had to say to get their attention was "Val Verde," and all he had to say to get their agreement was "Vacation." Three words were all it took to get Lynn Epstein and Gretchen McDaniels to board a plane to the secretive little island a few hour's flight off their nation's southwestern coast. That, and a few days of planning. A employer can't just disappear along with two of her employees in tow and expect everything to keep running like Swiss clockwork in her absence. Schedules needed rewriting, tasks needed assigning, and subtle, only half-joking threats of terrible retaliation for failure needed making before they could leave. All things considered, it was a painless procedure. It could have been even more-so, with the power available to the three. A few spells and they could have stepped from their homes to the island in an instant, without the need for planes, trains, or automobiles. But part of the joy of vacation is the trip, and so they took a passenger jet to the American southwest, arranged a taxi to a small, private airfield, and boarded another plane -- small, but richly furnished -- to the island. The process had been described in great detail by Steiner's letter, now slightly crumpled but none the worse for wear. Written by their would-be host, a man named Gallo, the letter had given the two women only the smallest taste of his personality, the tiniest glimpse of what he'd be like. Sam had tried to fill them in on the rest but some men, like Gallo, defied simple explanation. "He just is," the magician explained. "He's larger than life. Big eater, big drinker, big talker. He and I go way back; I think you'll like him. He was a good friend to me... kind of like how you guys are, now. He took me in when I needed taking in and helped get me back on my feet when I was laying low." Eventually, the flight neared its end, and it wasn't long after that when the three could look out the windows and see it: Val Verde, set like a gleaming emerald on a sea of blue velvet. "My God," said Sam. "It's just as beautiful now as it ever was. I'd almost forgotten."

 

@Blarghy

James Warne dusted his hands and reached one of them into his jacket, intent on removing the battered carton of cigarettes nestled into a pocket therein. He was surrounded by the prone bodies of groaning men, their firearms thrown haphazardly around the room by a telekinetic storm of disarmament, with their persons having followed shortly thereafter. He flicked the lighter with a practiced thumb, lit the smoke, and inhaled. Other men might have allowed themselves a smile, if only a bitter one, at the idea of a job well done. Not Adept, not here. Duty called, he answered, and that was all. The cigarette, the smoke in his mouth, the fire in his lungs; that was his smile, his concession to the world. His phone buzzed, once, an indication of incoming text. He reached for it, touched the screen, and brought up the client. TSA pegged your old friend [STEINER, SAMUEL] leaving the country w/ 2 women, it said. [EPSTEIN, LYNN] & [McDANIELS, GRETCHEN]. They're headed for Val Verde. Pack for sunny weather and report for briefing. Sorry. It was signed, at the bottom, by 'B,' which meant it couldn't be ignored. Warne grunted, replaced his phone, and strode towards the exit. He passed police and paramedics on the way, who hustled towards the battered men behind him. When he was out of sight, he took to the skies like a bird of prey and flew back to the city. It was going to be a long day.

Edited February 9, 2017 by Sophistemon

[Blarghy]

Only Becker would know him well enough to apologize for sending him on to an island paradise.  Clean air, sun, crystal waters, beautiful locals?  Warne would probably hate it.  How could he pack for tropical weather?  The man owned two kinds of outfits: suits, and suits with a heavy coat for winter. 

 

Oddly, he didn't complain yet, even to himself.  If Steiner was up to something suspicious, then Warne agreed he should be the one to investigate.  A regular agent had little hope of standing up to that magician in the event of trouble.  Warne also assumed that AEGIS had other information too, if his handlers shared his paranoia.  They probably wouldn't send him on a mere hunch.  He'd find out soon enough; leaving a thin trail of smoke behind him, he sped back to headquarters for the full briefing. 

[Heritage]

Lynn was onboard right away; she'd been itching to stretch her legs for some time, and a tropical vacation on a remote island sounded like just what the doctor ordered. Gretchen, however, was a much harder sell; she was not very outdoorsy by nature, not a huge fan of bright sunshine or wearing skimpy clothing on a hot beach, or even air travel, which was fairly ironic considering that she could actually fly. It took considerable cajoling on Lynn's part, but eventually she won the day; the changeling could, after all, be incredibly persuasive if she wanted to, and the concessions her girlfriend ultimately demanded in exchange were quirky, kinky, and kind of hilarious, so she didn't mind that Gretch was such a tough negotiator.

 

Hmm; I should lose arguments more often!

 

One of the (non-kinky) concessions was that if they had to fly to the West Coast, it would be nonstop and strictly no coach; three business class tickets weren't cheap, but to Lynn it was a small price to pay for a more-or-less happy girlfriend and a smooth flight.

 

And now, out over the beautiful Pacific Ocean with Val Verde below them like an exotic emerald, the changeling quivered with excitement; she wore a sleeveless denim blouse, white shorts and leather wedges, topped with a wide straw hat and big green sunglasses."Oh my God, it looks amazing! We are going to have such an awesome time out here!"

 

Meanwhile Gretchen, in her motorcycle jacket, black Misfits T-shirt, tattered bluejeans and combat boots merely sniffed, her eyes unreadable behind her Ray-Bans. "All I can say is that the T. Rex paddocks better damn well be secured."

Edited February 13, 2017 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

@Blarghy

Becker was waiting for Warne in the lobby when he arrived. In one hand she held a slim manila folder, in the other a steaming cup of coffee in one of those dangerously flimsy Styrofoam cups that practically dare you to squeeze it ever so slightly too hard. Both of these things she handed to the subordinate agent. "Welcome back," she said, voice clipped and professional. "We've already received the good news; you should be proud of what you've done today. Debriefing can wait, though -- this is more important." She pointed to the folder. "Open that, read, and walk with me. We've got a lot to talk about." She strode off, towards her office, as Adept trailed behind and did as instructed. The first page of the folder's document was a mugshot of one Samuel Steiner, formerly known as Presto the Preposterous, currently known as a minimally useful asset of the AEGIS intelligence network. Below the photo was a list of his crimes. Robbery, mostly, with some instances of nonlethal assault, evading arrest, and the other assorted dalliances of a super-criminal. "Steiner's left the country," Becker grumbles. "Which he is, technically, allowed to do. But it's where he's going that concerns us. Are you familiar at all with Val Verde?" Adept flipped the page, and saw an aerial map of the island nation, taken by a radar-invisible drone in a pretty clear violation of Val Verdean airspace. "Long story short, the place is a madhouse and the lunatics have been running the asylum for a very long time."

 

@Heritage

Samuel laughed at Lynn's excitement. "Trust me," he said. "You will. Gretchen will, too; she won't be able to help herself. Val Verde is... it's like nowhere else on Earth. It's one of a kind. And there haven't been any dinosaur attacks since the sixties." He looked out the window and narrowed his eyes, squinting to see down to the ground. "See there, that city?" It wasn't hard to miss, as it was the one and only city on the island, build around the one and only harbor. Most of the population clustered there, with the rest spread out among the countless plantations and minor villages built up and into the walls of the volcanic cone. "That's Puerto Rojo, the capital. There's a club there you'll like, Gretchen, called the Rope & Razor. It's very..." He wracked his brain for the proper term. Goths weren't a thing anymore, were they? Maybe it was... "Punk. It's very punk. Loud music, flashing lights, free glowsticks. It should be right up your alley. There's also hiking, natural hot-springs, indigenous crafts... and the beaches! God, the beaches! We're going to lose days on those beaches alone." He looked down again, and blinked. "Huh, there're more buildings down there than I remember. They must have done some expanding while I've been away." He tried not to think about what 'away' meant. Those years in prison, stripped of his power, reduced to drear normalcy... it had been torturous! "Anyway, I can't wait to introduce you to Gallo, and President Perez. They're personal friends of mine."

Edited February 12, 2017 by Sophistemon

[Blarghy]

The coffee surprised Warne, and put him slightly on his guard, expecting worse news than usual.  He let it float beside him in the empty air while he flipped through the folder with his hands; this being agency property, he felt more comfortable using his signature ability. 

 

Val Verde, Val Verde, Val Verde...no, nothing.  Damn.

 

"I can't recall anything noteworthy about the island," he admitted a bit sheepishly.  This was, after all, what briefings were for.  Still, Warne preferred to gather his own information when he could, and it was always nice to surprise people by knowing more than they expected. 

 

"Do we know why Steiner is taking this little vacation?  Was Freedom City somehow not chaotic enough for him already?"

[Heritage]

-Did he just say 'free glowsticks'?-

 

-Now, now! You know Sam doesn't fully understand you, or your deep and abiding hatred of all things associated with America's favorite jam band, Phish.-

 

-Maybe if I drink enough of them I'll die.-

 

-Enough! Think of the positives here! Tropical mixed drinks in bewildering varieties! Shirtless, sculpted men glistening with cocoa butter! Skinny dipping with your insanely hot girlfriend by moonlight!-

 

-These...are compelling arguements.-

 

-Thank you! Keeping an open mind is all I ask for.-

 

-I shall try.-

 

"So where exactly will be staying, Sam" inquired Lynn as she reached across to squeeze her girlfriend's hand. "You are having way too much fun being mysterious about everything."

Edited February 15, 2017 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

@Blarghy

"Steiner and Val Verde have a history," Becker explained. Warne turned the page and saw a photograph with three men standing in front of a very lavish-looking building. The man on the left was labeled PEREZ, and the man on the right was labeled GALLO. The man in the middle, dressed to the nines in a very familiar suit complete with an artfully askew top-hat and tailcoat, was STEINER. "Presto the Preposterous spent a lot of time in Val Verde. Back when he was active as a super-criminal, the island didn't extradite. In fact, they encouraged criminal tourism; it was a pretty sizable source of income. Their banks, so far as we know, were filled mostly with criminal investment that the Val Verdeans laundered into native currency." She frowned. "He'd lay low there between heists, drinking mai-tais and sunning on the beach, partying with the two most powerful men on the island. Then, when he got bored of the good life, he'd come back to the States and commit another robbery." Becker looked at Warne. "I don't think he could help himself. He had enough money to retire a dozen times over, but he kept coming back for more. Eventually, he was captured before he could disappear to the island, but all of that money? Gone. Gone to Val Verde." She chuckled. "And now it's just gone, period. A few years ago Gallo got tired of playing second-fiddle to Perez and led another revolution. The official line is that Perez fled the country to Eastern Europe and was taken in by some post-Soviet state, but details are hazy. And Gallo's used all that ill-gotten wealth to fund his modernization programs." She frowned. "Whatever his intentions, Gallo's good for Val Verde, at least for the time being. Their economy's booming and their quality of life is rising. It's slow, but considering the circumstances it's better than you might expect. Thing is, not everyone's happy about it; not only are Perez's old associates leading an insurgency against Gallo, the criminals whose money he's seized have put out a bounty on him. It hit five million dollars last week." Warne turned the page and saw a plane ticket paper-clipped to a passport containing a false identity. "We are... concerned that Steiner might be using his previous connection with Gallo to get close enough to claim the bounty. He lost a lot of money in the coup, money that he might have been hoping to get his hands on someday after he'd spent some time laying low." She stared Warne in the face. "We can't let that happen. I want you to go to Val Verde and check in on things. Protect Gallo, if he needs protecting. Stop Steiner, if he needs stopping. And find out what these two women have to do with it, if anything. Knowing Presto, they might just be a cover... but they might also be accomplices. Keep on your toes."

 

@Heritage

Sam smiled, slyly, at Lynn. "There's an old chestnut," he said. "About magicians, their secrets, and the revealing thereof. But, ah, seeing as how we're all magicians in one way or another, I suppose it can't hurt." He pointed out the window, down at one of the larger buildings. It had been build around the original church, constructed on the island by missionaries as their service to God, and served as the nation's sole seat of power. "There," he said. "That's the Presidential Palace. That's where we're staying." He moved his finger, slightly, to the left. "There, specifically, are the guestrooms. Back when I used to visit, they rivaled the Presidential Suite of any hotel in Las Vegas. Luxury like you wouldn't believe." He looked back to the women, and his smile was somber instead of sly, his eyes downcast and moderately embarrassed. "After everything you two have done for me, you deserve to live like queens for a while. Bringing you with me is the least I can do to repay your generosity. I just really, really hope you have a good time."

Edited February 15, 2017 by Sophistemon

[Heritage]

"Well, I'm sure that one way or another, we're going to have a great time," said the changeling with confidence, as much to assure Sam as it was to placate her not-entirely-convinced girlfriend. Lynn stretched like a cat in anticipation of landing "Mmmm; a nice big bed after all this flying will be like heaven!"

 

-Just so you know, this place is not entirely stable, either politically or socially. Please allow me just a hint of paranoia on our behalf.-

 

-Of course! I'll set up a perimeter of glamour around the guest suites, give us eyes and ears and a good escape route.-

 

-Thank you. That will go a long way towards helping me relax a bit.-

 

-I gotcha, kiddo.-

[Blarghy]

Warne listened stoically, flipping through the file.  His usual frown had unusual emotions behind it; to his own astonishment, he felt in his gut that Steiner wasn't the type for assassination.  Yes, he knew full well that the wizard could turn violent, even gleefully so, but it was violence of the moment.  To deliberately plan a reunion with an old friend, only to wand him to death?  Warne just didn't think Steiner had that in him, not for any amount of money.  It clashed too harshly with his egotistical image of a gentleman thief. 

 

So, he's going to the island to steal back his lost wealth.  Much more plausible.  Steiner will charm Gallo, enjoy the comforts of Val Verde, then teleport back to the States with as much cash as he can carry.  These two women are probably his scapegoats; he'll convince them that they're his partners, and leave them to take the fall so that he avoids the attention of both enraged fellow criminals and federal investigators.  Well, you already failed on the latter.

 

"As always," he promised Becker.  "What's my angle with Gallo?  I doubt he will take my word over that of his 'friend,' nor accept help from a United States operative in any case.  Do you have a cover story that will allow me to stay near him, or must I carry out this mission with stealth?  I can, of course, use my talent from a distance, but I still need visuals.  It would help if I can move about with relative freedom."

[Sophistemon]

@Heritage

The plane banked and began to descend. There was a brief rumble of turbulence as the tiny aircraft began to align itself with Val Verde's singular runway. "The beds are pretty fantastic," Samuel stated. He was a bit lost in thought, trapped in the memory of those beds and of the bronze-skinned Val Verdean beauties he'd shared them with. When his mind wandered to the other amenities on display at the palace, like the the cocaine and the alcohol, he shook his head. "Above all else," he said. "Val Verde is relaxing. It's a place far, far away from the rest of the world, and not just in distance. Life's simple here. It's easy, and it's fun." He looked out the window and smiled. It was a serene and simple smile, and it reached its apex as the landing gear made contact with the tarmac. "Gallo knows we're coming," he said, still grinning. "So we can expect a royal welcome. I can almost guarantee you've never seen anything like this before in your lives."

 

@Blarghy

The senior agent nodded. "That's good. I didn't want to think your previous contacts with Steiner have blinded you to the realities of the man. He's a performer, through and through. There's no telling how much of how he's presented himself to you was an act." Becker reached behind herself and stretched the muscles of her back. "I'm not going to mother you, I just want you to be careful. If Steiner wasn't dangerous we wouldn't have bothered you with him in the first place. As for your cover..." She reached out and extended a finger, pointing at the passport. "Your name is Lorenzo Chavez, and you're a security consultant from Spain. I assume you've kept up with your Spanish? We've included all the necessary paperwork in your travel-case. You're going to be meeting with the head of President Gallo's security detail and then, from there, you're going to arrange a personal meeting with the man himself. I want you to help keep him safe; even if Steiner's on the level, that's a big bounty. There's no telling how many maniacs are going to crawl out of the woodwork to claim it."

[Heritage]

"Oh, a 'royal welcome', huh? Hmm." Lynn frowned slightly and looked down critically at her outfit. After some consideration, she conjured up a pretty little white leather purse, then shifted her shorts into a simple white pleated skirt that reached just past her knees. Smiling with satisfaction, she smoothed the dress a little, then paused as she looked at her partner.

 

-Are you going to...?-

 

-What?-

 

-We're going to meet the president.-

 

-Of a tiny little banana republic. The guy is probably a former drug lord who paid for the island with coke.-

 

-Yes, and he's Samuel's friend, and we're his guests. At the Presidential Palace.-

 

-...Fine. What do you want me to wear.-

 

-You don't have to go crazy, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable-

 

-Too late for that.-

 

-But maybe a skirt and a blouse? And no boots, please.-

 

Sam had learned to recognize their mental conversations by the exchanges of meaningful looks, nods and gestures, and knew not to interrupt the two women until they were done, which was usually pretty obvious. In this case, it was clearly over when Gretchen sighed and twisted her ring, which transformed her ensemble from 'Joey Ramone' to a very pretty blue knee-length dress topped with a lightweight cotton blouse, and a pair of strappy leather sandals. The Ray-Bans very stubbornly stayed put. 

 

The barista shrugged an 'is this okay?' to the changeling, which led to a huge, loving smile from Lynn, and some very serious smooching that only ended when the plane came to a full stop.

Edited February 22, 2017 by Heritage

[Blarghy]

Yes, I must remember the other killers who will likely attack, Warne reminded himself.  And not become so focused on Steiner that I miss more dangerous threats.  Nice as it would be to prevent his thieving, life is of greater importance.  Although a bankrupted Gallo may quickly fall from power and be of just as little use to us as if he died...

 

The agent shelved those thoughts for later, cleared his throat, and switched to Spanish for a demonstration.  "/President Gallo, it is my duty to inform you that your current arrangements are simply unacceptable.  Surely you know the threats you now face in these dark times!  Please, allow me to extend my stay and assist with your security.  To make full use of my abilities, I would prefer to remain near you and observe the behavior of your bodyguards for any vulnerabilities or habits that your enemies might exploit; surely you agree that an outsider's perspective could be valuable, yes?  And just as surely, you do not know me, and so you are right to be cautious of even my presence, but as your men can attest, I carry no weapons and will maintain respectful distance at all times.  Please, President Gallo--you have brought such wonderful improvements to the people of Val Verde.  Let me ensure that you can continue to lead them into a better future.//"

 

Warne could be pretty nice, when he lied through every tooth in his head. 

[Sophistemon]

@Heritage

Samuel watched the silent conversation with feigned disinterest -- better to respect their privacy than to let on that he was a little miffed about being left out -- and then smiled unbidden when they changed their clothes. True, they weren't the most interesting outfit alterations he'd ever been privy to, but the use of magic always brought a smile to his face. The former villain, of course, didn't need to change anything about his appearance. He was as always immaculately dressed in his former stage costume. A three-piece suit of shimmering black and stunning crimson, it was enchanted with, among other things, the ability to keep him comfortable in all but the most extreme temperatures. His smile was interrupted by a bump as the plane made contact with the runway. "We're here," he told them, as the aircraft slowed to a crawling stop. After helping the girls with their luggage (if any) they left the plane and stood on the tarmac. There, parked only a short walk away, was a limousine of stunning whiteness with smooth lines and chrome accents that practically burned in the tropical sun. Standing beside it, holding a printed sign that said PRESTO (written beneath, in red marker, were the words AND GUESTS) was a man in a tuxedo, the driver, who by the lack of sweat on his face must have only just left the car a few moments ago. Aside from him, and a few workers, the landing strip was devoid of people. The magician strode toward the man, hand raised, and called out. "Hello! I'm Sam Steiner. Are you the ride?" The limo-driver lowered the sign and scrutinized Sam through a pair of aviator sunglasses. Thought neither Lynn nor Gretchen could see his eyes, they thought they might have flicked towards them, as well.

 

"You are Presto?" he asked, voice thick with an accent. "You are the man with the leopard?"

 

Sam flushed, his shoulders straightening, and cleared his throat. "We're expected at the Presidential Palace," he course-corrected. "Can you take us there?"

 

A short time later, after the driver had taken the hint and loaded their luggage into the trunk, the limo pulled away from the airport with its three passengers safely inside. The limo's interior was nice, air-conditioned, but slightly out of date. The leather upholstery was soft, but cracked here and there with age. This was the predictable aftereffect of lugging around ten-thousand buttocks over the course of a decade, and Presto didn't mention it. Instead he stared out the window like a dog, taking in everything he could see.

 

@Blarghy

Becker nodded, pleased with the display. "I'm glad to hear you've kept up with it. Or, are you just a natural linguist? If so, I'm jealous. I've got to revisit my Mandarin from time to time to keep on top of it or it slips away." She sighed, then squared her shoulders. "I know this isn't ideal, Warne, but the situation's gone too unstable. Between all the money wrapped up in Val Verde, to the rebellion against Gallo's regime, to the potential to draw in the nearby nations... it's a little too much to keep 'hands off' this time." She lifted a wrist to check her watch. "Steiner and friends should be in the air by now, flying commercial. We have a jet fueled and standing by; if we hurry to the hanger you can probably beat them there." She looked at him. "Or you could fly under your own power, if you think you're fast enough. Your call, Agent Warne. I trust your judgement, and I assume you won't disappoint me."

Edited March 13, 2017 by Sophistemon

[Heritage]

The two young ladies disengaged from their smooching and made ready to disembark. Lynn and Gretchen both brought a single carry-on bag; Gretch's actually held her laptop and a bunch of other important stuff, while the changeling's was entirely fictional, conjured up from glamour for appearance's sake. The heat didn't bother either of them, due to various similarly magical reasons, which meant they didn't sweat very much; hopefully no one would question this.

 

Once they were in the back of the limo, Lynn leaned in close to whisper in Sam's ear conspiratorially."Do you need a leopard? Because I can get you a leopard." She winked, and for a brief second her eyes took on a decidedly feline cast, a vivid reminder of their first training session back at Rusty's Ranch.

 

For her part, Gretch looked out the window and shook her head. "It sucks when people know you for just one thing." Her tone might not have been warm, but her intent was clear; this was how the snarky barista expressed sympathy for her fellow artist.

Edited March 3, 2017 by Heritage

[Blarghy]

"The jet, I think," Warne decided without much thought.  He wasn't nearly as fast as a plane--some birds could outpace him--and furthermore, the agent didn't relish flying across the full length of the United States.  Endurance issues aside, that sounded like a long, cold trip, even if it would have the perk of allowing him to smoke along the way. 

 

He finished his coffee, returned the dossier to Becker, and turned to take his leave.  "I'll report in as the mission allows," he promised.  "And do my best not to make the news."

 

Keeping Steiner, much less any real assassins looking for that bounty, from drawing public attention might be a much harder task. 

[Sophistemon]

@Heritage

Steiner blushed red and turned away, hiding his discomfort by facing the window and the Val Verdean countryside as it passed by. Clearly, something about the chauffeur's comment had unsettled him. "That was a panther," he protested, his voice a little gruff. "Completely different animal." Gretchen's statement, however, softened him considerably. "If I have to be remembered for something," he agreed, "I'd rather it be for the leopard than... something else. Something worse." The driver snickered, but didn't speak. The drive to the Presidential Palace was long, but not unpleasant. The nation outside the car was a beautiful one, if somewhat sparsely populated, with wide streets and colorful people. "I can't believe how clean everything is," Samuel mused. "It was never filthy, but... wow! Improvements have been made, that's for sure." In front of them, the driver nodded.

 

"Presidente Gallo has done good for us," he said. "Street-cleaners come out every other day to sweep. It is as they say, a clean city is a happy city. The tourists like it, and we like the tourists."

 

Samuel looked away from the window. "Gallo's in charge?" he asked. "What happened to Perez?"

 

@Blarghy

Becker nodded and offered the agent a rare, thin-lipped smile of approval. "That's good," she said. "That's very good, Warne. Before you go, and just so we're clear, understand this: Steiner remains a psychological unknown. His profile paints him as unstable and potentially very dangerous. His previous crimes were only a fraction of a fraction of what he's really capable of, and if things go sideways in Val Verde and he loses the chance to reclaim his wealth... you have full authorization to subdue him by any means necessary. We cannot, we will not tolerate an international incident. If things get out of hand, I expect a surgical precision. In and out like a ghost, with no trace of any AEGIS interference in sovereign Val Verdean affairs. If he's there for anything other than a vacation, I want him disappeared, brought back Stateside, and thrown back in a cell. Are we clear?"

[Heritage]

Lynn frowned slightly at this last piece of news. "So wait, he didn't mention he was president in the letter? That's kind of weird." She threw a worried look Gretchen's way, but the young barista just shook her head and shrugged; she was always expecting bad news, and was therefore rarely surprised when things looked to be going south. 

 

 "Well, I'm sure everything will turn out fine," Lynn concluded with a contented sigh as she patted Sam's hand. However, the stage magican quickly realized that his employer had defly slipped him a conjured note, her sleight of hand even subtler than his own. The note only lasted for the few seconds it took for him to read it before it melted away to nothing.

 

"If anything goes wrong, for any reason,

we've got your back, Sam. I will smuggle

you out in my Vault if I have to.

 

Love, Lynn"

Edited March 13, 2017 by Heritage

[Blarghy]

"Understood, ma'am."  Warne agreed that keeping this mission quiet was perhaps as big a concern as undertaking it at all; these days, other nations worldwide had less and less patience for the US government's meddling.  Val Verde wouldn't be the only one to voice disapproval if he was caught.  This might've been a good cause for once, but AEGIS would have a hell of a time convincing anyone of that. 

 

Adept stood at the door, ready to depart.  "Is there anything further?"

[Sophistemon]

@Heritage

Samuel shook his head. "No," he responded. "He even signed it 'Gallo,' so his title wouldn't give it away. Maybe he meant it as a surprise?" What would mean, of course, that his old friend knew him well enough to assume that the magician wouldn't have bothered to research how the island nation had changed in the intervening years. Presto couldn't decide if that was complimentary or insulting, then shook his head with a resigned sigh; it didn't matter, in the long run, which of the two it turned out to be. They were here, and he was determined to make the most of his stay. When Lynn took his hand and left a slip of paper behind, he was mildly annoyed by yet another reminder that his was not the most powerful magic in the car. But when he read the letter, the beginnings of a scowl faded from his face and he smiled at his guest. "It's going to be all right," he told her, his voice a low whisper. "Gallo and I go back years; he's a friend, and this is a vacation. We're going to have a blast."

 

@Blarghy

The senior agent shook her head, all business. "No," she said. "Get going. Remember to keep a running log of things as they occur; we're going to want to have this one recorded with precision in case anything goes south and we need to justify our involvement. Just... omit the necessary details; we don't need any more dirty laundry than we've already got." She waved a hand, lazily, in his direction. "Make us proud, agent Warne."

Edited March 20, 2017 by Sophistemon

[Blarghy]

Pride, in Warne's experience, was dangerous in this line of work.  Becker had named a rare instance when it might be appropriate: in the aftermath of a mission that no one else would ever know actually took place.  He had long-since made peace with the fact that his career should end in obscurity.  Fame was a mark of stigma; any agent that the general public could recognize, had failed in their duty.  When this assignment was eventually declassified in a few decades, Warne hoped that his name would only be a minor footnote, if that. 

 

He left the building like a ghost and intended to roam Val Verde the same way.  In his cab on the way to the air strip, Warne wondered if this little island would have his favorite brand of cigarettes.  Even phantoms have needs, after all. 

[Heritage]

Lynn nodded to herself, doing her best not to join her girlfriend in her typical paranoia and nay-saying; sometimes everything actually did work out for the best. Maybe they could all have the wonderful vacation Sam promised, and they would all come back tanned (or in Gretchen's case, burned; the girl was awfully pale), all relaxed and full of happy memories.

 

But then the changeling noticed something odd out of the corner of her eye; leaning forward, she peered at is as she tried to make out what is was. A seagull? A piece of blown debris?  "What the hell...?" But then there was a sudden flash of recognition, and she sat bolt up right.  "Holy s###, RPG!" She threw her arms out to either side, palms facing outward, and she began to conjure as fast as she could.

 

On the outside of the limo, a shell came into being, starting at the points nearest to Lynn's hands but rapidly spreading around the car as she wove the glamour into a protective shield. The material looked a bit like tortoise shell and a bit like some sort of hardwood, though in truth it was made of no known substance, because Lynn was thinking too fast to pick something real; she just knew it had to be hard and thick. In a matter of seconds, the whole car was wrapped, though she left most of the front windshield uncovered so their driver wouldn't crash the car, though he still might still do it out of shock.

 

Lynn could only pray she made it strong enough.

 

For her part, Gretchen could only gape in shock, her reactions too slow to bring anything to bear just yet.

Edited March 22, 2017 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

@Heritage

Samuel gaped at Lynn as she shouted and raised her hands. "Role-playing?" he asked her. "What's that have to do with anything?" He twisted in his seat and looked out the window to see the rapidly-forming barrier. "Oh," he murmured. "Rocket-propelled grenade." The projectile struck the shield around the limousine like a truck, bashing it so hard that it swerved, tires squealing like nothing else, across the road. The driver swore, something unforgivably vile in his native Spanish, and twisted the wheel to correct course away from the smoking crater the explosion had left in the ground beside them.

 

"Terroristas," he spat, and glared at his clients through the rear-view mirror. "You have power!" he accused. "They know, that's why they shoot! They think you work for Gallo, because you no work for them!" He accelerated, then swore again when he realized one of the tires had burst in the impact, scraped open by their unintended path across the asphalt. The limo was crippled, and made to be all the more easy a target. "The city," he babbled. "I can't be seen with you. We get to the city, then you get out of my car!" Sam leaned forward, his features scrunched with concern.

 

"You can't just leave us," he protested. "We're needed at the Palace. We can protect you; we already have!"

 

@Blarghy

By the time Warne's flight landed many hours later, the clean-up crew had already begun to wash away the tire tracks and patch the damaged road. The police had come and gone, statements had been taken, the official explanation had been written and life on Val Verde was prepared to continue on as it always had. Yes, those noble public servants had begun their task... but they hadn't yet finished it, and Adept could see the damage through the window of the taxi he took from the airport. His driver turned in his seat and smiled at him. "You see hole?" he asked. "Gas leak. Boom! Like a bomb."

[Blarghy]

"...Hm." 

 

Truthfully, Warne wasn't too suspicious.  Without being able to investigate the scene himself, he had only his regular paranoia to doubt the official report--and "gas leak" was among the most typical government cover stories.  If anything, the reasonable response rate from local police and repair crews was a good sign.  It demonstrated that the current administration was able to maintain basic functions in a timely manner. 

 

He leaned out the window to exhale some smoke and asked in Spanish, "/Does this sort of thing happen often?//"  Since getting on his plane back in the States, he had maintained his own cover story.  Warne--or rather, Lorenzo Chavez--wasn't about to be brought down at the start of the mission because of some amateurish nonsense. 

[Heritage]

When the blast hit, Lynn doubled over in pain as she felt the feedback through her link to the glamoured shell; she knew it was coming, but it still hurt like hell.

 

"I can fly us," stated Gretch matter-of-factly as she began to climb forward into the passenger seat. "Uncover the driver and passenger side windows so we can navigate better." She strapped herself in with her seat belt, and then the ruby on her ring began to glow like an angry eye.

 

And then the limo was airborne! It rose straight up into the sky, but Gretch did her best to keep it low, no more than two hundred feet in the air. Craning her neck to look out the various windows, she addressed the driver tersely. "Where is the Palace? Point it out to me, and give me a few visual landmarks. If anyone has a phone number to the Palace, give them a call so they know were coming in. Otherwise we'll be landing in a hot LZ." As an afterthought, the young barista twisted her ring, which shifted her clothes from 'fun and summery' to something closer to 'Angry Art Student Paintballer'; leather jacket and gloves, jeans, combat boots and a pair of wraparound goggles.

 

For her part, Lynn made a few swirly gestures with her fingers, which dismissed the glamour in a few key places to give them better visibly; she was still in quite a bit of residual phantom pain, which took a few seconds to fade away.

Edited March 22, 2017 by Heritage

[Sophistemon]

@Heritage

The driver yelled at Gretchen in Spanish, commanding her to return to the rear of the car. His shouts turned to shrieks when the car left the road, lifted by magic into the air. He jerked the wheel and pumped the breaks to no avail, then whimpered. Samuel, meanwhile, was attempting to tend to Lynn. He had turned to her after the rocket hit, hearing her grunt of pain, and worry lined his face and turned his mouth down. "Are you all right?" he asked, and drew his wand. "Can you... feel... through the barrier?" He bit his lower lip and shook his head from side to side. "Okay, don't worry. I think we're in the clear, but I'll make my own so you can release yours. I don't want you getting hurt." He turned to look towards Gretchen. "Gretchen, it's the big building at the center of the city. It's got a red tiled roof and it's flying flags. You can't miss it." As for calling ahead, he didn't know how. It's not as though he had a direct line to the presidential office. He looked out the window, then pointed. "There, Gretchen. That's the one." The indicated building was large, many stories high, and as imperial in appearance as one might expect. "There's a private helipad... there, by the racquetball court."

 

@Blarghy

The driver laughed, and shook his head. "No, no! Things are good these last years. El Presidente has rebuilt the city block by block. Some parts are just... not done yet, and need work. It is a big, big job to put a country back together. We are very happy." They passed the crater and moved on to a main road. "You are going to the Palace, yes? What brings you to Val Verde, then? For the pleasures, or for business? Thanks to Gallo, the island has plenty of both!"