Peter shrugs.

"You're our captive. You will get medical treatment, then be detained and questioned. After that - who knows? You're a smart kid, maybe we've got a job for you..."

Quote:

Quote: from Punkey on 7:16 pm on Feb. 4, 2005
Moten returns the salute, then motions for the police to take him to their leader, keeping an eye out for anything that looks, sounds, or smells even remotely like an ambush.

Moten and Brian step off the train, half expecting the entire Central Division of the SMP waiting for them outside, lined up like a firing squad.

Instead, there is a reassuring bit of chaos outside the train with all the makings of a political flashpoint. Flashing blue lights saturate the area with no less than a dozen SMP policecars parked on either side of the railway crossing. The agents see their train's passengers being corraled into what appears to be a trainstation used for the small crossroad village. On the roadway, all vehicles are being searched with their drivers and passengers also being forcibly escorted towards the station.

Officers hold up Moten and Brian's advance from the train. A few minutes later, the police line is parted, revealing a grizzled, burly fellow with the epaullets of a generalisimo flanked on either side by two plain-clothes men of immeasurable paranoia.

"Hello, comrade. I...Chief Inspector...Rasminsky...SMP. I....pleased...to see you." says the man, speaking like a cop-turned-politician.

"We have...situation...dire. Can you...help?"

Both Moten and Brian have seen this kind of character before. Highly motivated officials with only an eye on advancing their careers, rather than doing their designated jobs. Typical bureaucrat.

Trans-Siberian Express enroute to Krasnoyarsk

Ayumi pulls her blades and goes to work on the new party crashers. Her first swipe goes wide, but the second strike cuts deep into Georgi's (stungun) hand, lobbing it off at the wrist with a gusher of blood as the severed arteries pump towards the gruesome stump of an arm.

"Holy Shit!"* exclaims Pavlov, considerably disturbed by the Ayumi's knifeplay on his partner.

Pavlov backs out of the room, panic-firing a volley of shots into the cabin. The bullets ricochet about the room, one catching Ayumi across the cheek...just a grazer.

*No translation needed.

Quote:

Quote: from Gatac on 2:07 am on Feb. 7, 2005
Peter shrugs.

"You're our captive. You will get medical treatment, then be detained and questioned. After that - who knows? You're a smart kid, maybe we've got a job for you..."

"That probably wouldn't be t.oo hard of a job. I'm fairly certain I know your security protocols better than your own people do. Speaking of which, just who the hell do you guys work for?"

(Edited by Dieter at 12:48 pm on Feb. 7, 2005)

"Why don't you take a guess?"

Peter coughs.

"First two don't count."

"You're American, him? (glancing at Peter). My guess is German. Only a German would could be that anal-retentive about electronics. As for who you work for...probably CIA, although..."

(looks at the rig's set-up)

"...You couldn't possibly get this stuff on government wages. Special Branch? Those companies you see in the movies that are buried underneath major cities? The kind that does freaky, weird experimental shit...like having monkeys kill eachother with their cybernetic implants?"

(Edited by Dieter at 1:57 pm on Feb. 7, 2005)

"Well, technically, I am Brazillian...but my grandfather was German, and I spent a lot of time there."

He pauses briefly.

"You do a good job of guessing, but from how you talk, it's obvious you don't know jack. Let's leave it at that. I like you, kid, you've got Schneid*. I'd hate to realise I told you too much."

(* rough translation: chutzpe)

"He already knows about the cyborg monkeys, you and I both know he's too dangerous to let live."

Artis busts out laughing a few seconds later.

Moten nods, turning on that "I'm an FBI agent, so I'm automatically better than you" aura that seems to be ingrained into agents during training at Quantico.

Georgi (hereafter cited as Lefty) slumps to the floor in shock after suddenly realizing he's never going to play the piano again...among other things.

Carla sees Ayumi's face and also flashes back to the young woman's broken nose.

Rule #1: NEVER hit a lady.
Rule #2: If you must ignore Rule #1, never punch 'em in the face.

The girls go at Pavlov like two crazed vultures fighting over who gets to pluck out the man's eyes.

Carla feigns a boot to the Jimmy while actually rearing up and bashing Pavlov's nose with the meaty part of her palm. A satisfying *crunch* is heard as Ayumi moves in with both blades. Her first attack goes a bit off-target, stabbing Pavlov in the hand, effectively stapling him to the cabin wall and dropping his weapon to the floor. Ayumi's second blade hits home, driving the full length of her knife into the man's mouth; ripping out various parts of his cheek, jaw, and dental work as it cuts through him.

The blow is a vicious one, not killing Pavlov outright, although solid foods are definitely off the menu for at least the next six months. Pavlov shrieks in pain, clutching on to his face with his free hand, attending to the gaping hole left by Ayumi's blade.

---

The Chief Inspector nods at the brevity of Moten's demeanor, gesturing for him and Brian to follow him over to his limousine.

"Please....come sit....You have drink....we talk. Ok?"

Walking over to his ride, Brian spots a BMP approaching the scene leading a convoy of two Ural transport trucks with a (presumably) command jeep bringing up the rear. The jeep flies ** red flags on its front end.

(Edited by Dieter at 8:10 am on Feb. 8, 2005)

Brian stands quietly behind and to the left of Moten, letting the American deal with the whole talking-and-diplomacy act of this. He gathers from hand gestures that their headed toward the limo, but the arrival of heavy firepower thrills him not the least.

Alright...some FSB agents I can handle...this desk-jockey I could take in my sleep...but a bloody light tank filled with undoubtedly trigger happy Russians and it's accompanying convoy? C'mon, aren't we asking a little much? Well, here's to talking out way out of this.

The convoy motors up to the train crossing, stopping just short of the tracks. Red Army soldiers begin dispersing from the back of the Urals, a non-comm barking orders and gesturing for them to take up their assigned positions throughout the crossing. Arriving at the limousine, Brian makes out the signs of an officer's cap on one of the men exiting the command jeep.

Adding to the already tension-filled atmosphere is the distinct sound of a locomotive horn in the near distance. The echo puts its location heading east-bound.

----

The bloodbath event that is Carla and Ayumi's cabin is only superceded by their train's horn, followed soon after by the screeching wail of brakes being applied to its wheels.