| From: | Paul J. Adam ShadowTK@********.demon.co.uk |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Corruption On High #1 |
| Date: | Fri, 28 Jul 2000 00:29:55 +0100 |
>>>>>[I don't want to put this through official channels. I wasn't
planning to make it at all until - unless - we got some confirmation.
As you'll see... we got more confirmation than we wanted.
+++++begin video
Lilith brings the Westwind to a halt, as the nervous gate-guard leans to
her window. "We're expected".
"Uh... and you are?"
"Jason and Lilith Lynch, and Dona Minnie Descabiere is expecting our
company." Lilith says, still friendly, still polite. <Check, confirm,
and then either turn us away or let us in: we've got plenty of other
things we could be doing.> she adds in fluent, idiomatic Sicilian-
dialect Italian.
The gate-guard looks baffled, talks to his radio for a moment, and lets
them in.
They're shown into the house without much formality, though with
respect. Both shed their battered leather flying jackets without
protest: Lilith hands over both her Desert Eagle automatics, Lynch the
MP-5PDW from his shoulder harness. Both keep, in plain sight now, a
pistol holstered (Lilith a cut-down .45 in the small of her back: Lynch,
a revolver behind his left hip) without comment, and the doorman lets
them pass similarly uncommented.
Led into a pleasant sitting room, with leather-covered wing chairs and a
table set with refreshments, they have a few moments to compose
themselves before la Dona Descabiere joins them.
Still strikingly beautiful, still with her dancer's slim and muscular
build, Minnie Descabiere sits facing her guests. "Thank you for meeting
me." are her first words.
"You tell an interesting, if incomplete, tale, Dona Descabiere. And your
reputation commands respect." Lilith replies. "We were... curious."
"May I speak frankly?"
"Always preferred it." Lynch affirms. Lilith, too, nods.
"Then I wanted to speak with you two, specifically. There is a problem,
and it involves corruption within the UCAS government. You two have... a
certain renown for tackling such matters. The more normal channels are
not responsive. Not even SIGA replied."
"The Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency was disbanded months ago."
Lilith replies, gently. "We had a primary mission, we fulfilled it. We
had secondary missions that were often... embarrassing. We were no
longer welcome at the party. So, we bowed out gracefully, accepted our
medals, and kept our ears open."
"That would explain it.". Dona Descabiere takes a deep breath. "What
would you risk, to... turn back the darkness?"
The reaction she gets, is definitely not what she expected. Though both
Lynches laugh aloud, it's not a mocking laughter, but the bitterness of
old soldiers asked if they've ever marched to the sound of the guns.
"Minnie, I'm sorry." Lilith shakes her head. "I thought you knew more
than you do. We've spent much of the last decade doing just that...
we're used to it. We know it. What's _your_ darkness, and who's
involved?"
La Dona looks genuinely surprised. "You know, I expected disbelief.
Surprise. Something... else."
"Tough." Lynch chuckles, lights a cigarette and hands it to Lilith:
lights a second for himself. "Look, we spent the best part of two
decades hunting a guy who was into necromancy, insect spirits, and all
kinds of black-magic shit." He offers the flat metal case to Descabiere,
who after a moment takes one: Lynch lights it for her with a battered
Zippo. "We ended up hunting him down to his base. Killed the bastard and
then we vaporised him and his pets with thirty kilotons of B-97 clean-
burst fusion warhead. So, we'll do a _lot_ to fight the fucking
darkness. Now, you want to tell us what we're up against and why we're
doing all this cloak-and-dagger crap?"
Minnie doesn't quite drop the Marlboro. "What if I told you that the
UCAS military were buying into the... problem?"
"It happened before. It'll happen again." Lilith shrugs. "Stupid people
make stupid mistakes. The idea is, to stop them. Who, what, where, why?"
"Who? I don't know, I was hoping you might have a clue. What? An ancient
magical artefact. The skull of the Red Lady. The UCAS has part, I have a
small part, there's a piece still missing. Where, why? I don't know
much." Minnie sighs. "There's a prophecy, an early twentieth-century
prophecy, two hours of it; transcribed from a houngan being ridden." She
starts to recite: both Lynches listen intently.
"And in the year after the Frenchman dies, his woman shall dance to
ascendancy by the sea. And the darkness shall rise in the forest, with
the help of nationseeking fools. The darkness shall obscure its own
guise and shall rise and rise, taking the mist and the ... nobody's
translated this yet... as its food. But the hunger shall never cease."
She pauses. "There's more, lots more, but you get the idea."
"What proof of UCAS involvement do you have?" Lynch asks.
"Not much. Enough to concern me. The skull, the main part of the skull,
was stolen from the Tate Gallery. By a team I'm pretty convinced were
UCAS special forces of some sort."
Lynch looks at Lilith. "Anything to do with us?"
"Not through the Air Force." His wife shakes her head. "You didn't hear
anything?"
"Not Jane's sort of op. She'd use us for that. No, she'd use _Quinn_ for
that." Both the Lynches laugh. "Wait one..."
"Oh, shit, no. Ernang?" Lynch asks.
"Let's not jump to conclusions. Just because we don't like the man..."
"Yeah. It could be someone else." Lynch nods. "Using him as a stalking
horse. Or someone could be setting la Dona up. We don't know..."
"Thing is, let's assume this is all as it seems, and some General
Scumbag is trying to get this artefact together for evil purposes.
_What_ evil purposes, and what's the skull of the Red Lady got to do
with it?" Lilith asks. "Right now, we don't even know where to start."
Her husband says, reflectively "Well, there's a few things we can try.
There's only so much magical talent in SOCOM, we can ask some questions
there. There's only so many people able to detach troops for overseas
operations without the Oversight Committee approving it, or at least
clearing it post-facto. Quinn's Brit contacts might get us some clues
from the Tate. I guess we could at least take a few bites at the
problem."
"You can. Will you?" Minnie asks.
The Lynches exchange looks: a great deal of unspoken meaning seems to
pass between them, before Lilith finally says "Yes. We'll look."
+++++end video
That was nearly a week ago. We got busy.
We all checked around, to see what was going on. Like this.
+++++begin video
Lynch leans into the office. "Hey, Skips, how're they hanging?"
"Down 'round my waist, until I bought that support bra." 'Skips' is a
Dwarf woman, powerfully built even for her species, with a bleached
blonde crewcut and dark skin. Her uniform is Army, her insignia show
she's actually Captain Skipton, and her medals include both pistol
expert and Combat Mage decorations. "What'cha doing in an Army shop,
Lynch, did you stick to the sole of someone's shoe and get carried in?"
"Har har de har. What happened to your sense of humour?"
"What's the stock code on that? I never got issued one."
"You got a minute, instead?"
"Sixty of them, every single hour. Ain't the Army great? What you
wanting, Lynch?"
The Marine steps into the office, closes the door. Skipton huddles back,
crossing her legs. "Oooh! A man and a woman in a closed office! Call the
Sexual Harassment Hotline!"
"Yeah, Skips, like you couldn't deal with someone tried to harass
_you_?"
"Nobody ever does. Wish they would. Anyway, what's got you worried?"
Lynch sighs. "Not sure. Got a line on some magical stuff, might involve
some dirt inside SOCOM. Not sure where, though."
"Might be me. Maybe they found where I've been magically molesting
handsome young interns." Skipton chuckles.
"Nope. You, I trust enough to ask about this. You hear anything about
this?" Lynch shows the Dwarf a trideo still of what looks like a jade
jawbone.
"Uh... yeah, looks familiar." Skipton nods. "Now wait one minute and let
me think where I've seen that." She muses. "Recent. Really recent. No,
it wasn't that, it was a CGI version that was kind of similar. A jawbone
to go with a jade skull? The skull was a photo, the jaw was generated to
match it, sort of an artist's impression. Pretty good match, though."
"The very same. What you got for me?"
"Not much." Skipton shakes her head. "I got shown it, asked did I know
anything about it, I said no, sir."
"By who?"
"Colonel McNally, out of the Army ops-planning cell. You know him?"
"Not yet."
"Don't hurry, he's an egotistical jerk. Anyway, he wanted to know my
expertise in vodou, and I told him I didn't know the first fragging
thing about that drek and didn't want to change that, on account of my
having worked very hard to get my MTh. from Carnegie-Mellon and not
wanting to mess up my carefully-honed analytical skills with a whole
load of mystical mumbo-jumbo, and he-"
"In those words?" Lynch can't help asking.
"I was more circumspect and discreet to his face, okay. He might end up
on my promotion board. Some of us have to face promotion boards, Lynch?"
"No danger of that for me. I'm an O4 until they fire me."
"Want to bet? I hear you're up on the lieutenant-colonel's list."
"Bullshit!" Lynch sounds positively shocked. Aren't soldiers meant to be
happy to get promoted? Not this Marine, it seems...
"Well, there's a Major J R W Lynch, UCAS Marines, in there somewhere. I
only noticed when I was checking to be sure I was selected for Major.
Here, see for yourself." Skipton rummages around, finds a datachip,
hands it to Lynch.
Indeed, there it is: not high on the list, but still present in SOCOM's
selectees for possible promotion to O5. Not just Major J R W Lynch, UCAS
Marine Corps (Reserve), but Major L R W Lynch, UCASAF(R) also.
"They've got to be kidding!"
"That's what I said and everyone else who's seen it said." Skipton
grins. "Probably just short of candidates and put you in to make up the
numbers. Don't sweat it, you'll be fine."
"Yeah, well... this is odd. Anyway, the skull? Colonel McNally?"
"Well, that's about it. McNally hemmed and hawed, then said he'd be in
touch, and never called me back. Story of my love life." Skipton shrugs.
"So, what's up, Lynch? Lieutenant-Colonel-Selectee Jason Lynch?"
"You quit that."
"Nope. Won't. Not unless you make it a formal order and state your rank
so's I know it's higher than mine." Skipton's grin is wide and teasing.
"Anyway, I 'fessed up, you do the same."
"Okay... that skull is bad juju. One of those things not to be messed
with, you know? That's all I got so far."
"All too well." Skipton nods. "And someone in SOCOM's messing with
it?"
"That's the word on the street. I'm just seeing if it's true."
"Well, you be careful, Jason. And you give me a call if you need me."
Skipton is more serious now.
+++++end video
And who the hell put us up for promotion? Neither of us have time-in-
grade and Lilith's too young. Something weird's going on there, as well
as with the Skull.
Anyway, we started checking around. Jake went digging through the
files... and found precisely nothing in the stuff he could reach. The
Army cell of SOCOM are closed tight and he couldn't get in, which is
normal but tells us nothing.
Quinn asked around her Brit friends, who confirmed the skull - minus
teeth and lower jaw - was heisted out of London recently by a _very_
professional team that left not a trace of their presence.
Lilith went over the travel documentation, and hit paydirt. McNally is
XO of General Ernang's Fast Response Action Group, and he submitted a
trash-hauler requisition. Officially, just an Atlas cargo flight to and
from Bismark, collecting and delivering 'miscellaneous supplies', signed
and approved. Unofficially... he cumshawed two Nightbirds from the
160th. The Atlas can carry two Nightbirds easily, and a team to ride in
them.
We figured, he was planning a cross-border raid into Sioux territory. An
unapproved, unauthorised strike. To grab what? We didn't know.
What the hell were we meant to do about it? I don't know. We didn't know
where he's planning to hit, and while we could have tried nailing him
when he comes back we had - still have - no evidence that'll stand up.
We could have tipped off the Sioux... but the same problem applies, we
had no idea where McNally's raid is going. Might not even have been
cross-border, might have been within the UCAS, in which case we'd have
kicked the hornet's nest for nothing.
We could have warned la Dona. We knew she hadn't told us everything, not
by a long shot. Perhaps she knew enough to do something useful.
Turns out she did.
Turns out she and her people got there in time to interfere.
They got the jawbone that matches the skull. They left the strike team,
who had killed the jawbone's owner, alive... which I would not have
done. Take them as evidence, or leave them as corpses, but now Ernang
knows that Minnie Descabiere's competing with him.
Ernang's bozos left a pretty wide trail. The 160th aren't happy about
being used as mushrooms, and the local ROTC are *very* curious about
what went on, so I've got Jake harvesting data. From cover.
At that point, we decided we needed another face-to-face with Minnie. We
needed to know what was *really* going on.]<<<<<
-- Lynch <00:19:45/07-28-61>
