| From: | "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | The Beginning of Trouble |
| Date: | Wed, 22 Jan 1997 23:54:07 +0000 |
First there was late last night. That was simple, if annoying. The
followup is where the real danger lies.
+++++begin video
The club is unrecognisable, as half-a-dozen people carry out furniture
and several others steam-clean the walls. Four young men, all Elven, all
clad in poorly hand-painted synth-leather jackets, strut in, one of them
tripping a girl dragging a stack of chairs: she falls and lands hard,
crying out in pain, and all four laugh loudly.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" asks a burly Ork, who had been unscrewing
the scratched plastic bar counter.
"Gentlemen! Huhuhh... you're funny, trog. Where the frag is Donny?"
"Donny's retired from the bartending business." the Ork replies
placidly, his hands out of sight behind the bar.
"We wanna talk to Top Dog. We got him his merchandise."
"I'm afraid Top Dog has tired of this place and gone elsewhere. We are
under new management."
One of the group snorts. "Then get us your management, cause we got some
really nice drek. Beetles, good ones. A couple of the Teen Terror
series? And, get this, two Overfiend torturewares! Unused, still in the
wrappers! We-"
"Please leave, gentlemen." The Ork's tone is polite, but firm.
"Otherwise I'll have to call the manageress."
"Oh, yeah, you call her. We had a deal! Took us a lot of work to get
this drek, and if you don't pay us for it we're gonna kick your hoops
all over-"
"Vincenzo, is there a problem?" Easy's voice as she walks into shot,
wearing her biker jacket and an alarmingly short black skirt.
"Whoa!" The Elven youths all stare. "Tell you what, trog, a ride or two
on this pony and the chips are yours."
"I don't think so. Leave, boys, before you get hurt." Easy's tone is
soft, her eyes mocking.
They glance at each other for a moment, one makes a hand gesture and
another one sniggers. "Okay, we're going, we're going..." They move to
leave, and the one passing nearest Easy grabs for her-
There is a sharp crack of breaking bone and his forearm now makes an
impossibly acute angle between wrist and elbow, Easy releasing his hand
as he screams in sudden agony. Another is pawing for a weapon, a third
running for the door and the last lunges at Easy with a cyberspur
snapping from his fist.
She almost casually steps around the spur and grips his jacket, as the
gunman draws a pistol: he fires twice, one shot missing and the other
hitting his friend in the back as Easy throws him at the shooter, both
youths sprawling in a tangle of limbs.
The boy with the pistol makes the fatal mistake of raising it, and Easy
- her own guns in hand - fires half-a-dozen rounds into the pair.
There is silence except for spent brass jingling, and a choked rattle
from one of the boys.
"Get them out of here." she says calmly, holstering her Berettas. After
a moment's pause, several of the moving crew start shifting bodies
instead of furniture.
"Is everything..." The Ork lowers the Mossberg shotgun he hadn't needed.
"Everything's fine, Vincenzo. Well done. This should make tonight's talk
more interesting." The Elven girl smiles coldly.
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- Easy <21:50:43/01-22-58>
