| From: | G'Koth of the Narn Regime <esj@***.UUG.ARIZONA.EDU> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | The Capture of Macros the Black |
| Date: | Wed, 10 May 1995 22:10:38 -0700 |
was the last I've heard from him, so I'm really not sure if he's still
around. In any case, I thought I should forward this onto the Shadowland.
+++++BEGIN FORWARDED MESSAGE
*****PRIVATE: Rhino Chaser
>>>>>[Well, we had Macros, then we lost him, but not without a fight.
After cleansing my entire database and importing all new, uncorrupted
data, I was finally able to track down Macros the Black. To keep the
set-up from boring you out of your skull, I'll keep that part short.
Basically, I found out he was headed down to the Carib League, Jamaica to=
be more specific. I grabbed Mr.Purple, Spring Rivers, and we jumped on a
sub-orbital (good god our timing was lucky; another hour later and we
would have been screwed) down to the Land of Rum & Marley. Beat Macros
by about an hour. Rented an old Land Rover, then waited. At which point=
we join our story, all ready in progress:
+++++UPLOAD AUDIO/VISUAL
+++++SEQUENCE 4523.34.6b
Even with maximum compensation, the view from inside the classic
Land Rover bounces crazily. The Rover is on a dirt road, driving through=
what looks like a lush green sugarcane field. The camera swivels, and a
woman can be seen driving, her hair a collection of shocking blue
braids. A graphic appears to indicate "Spring Rivers." She is
chattering away, but the topic of her rambling is unknown, as her voice
has been edited out. The camera swivels further back to reveal a normal
looking human sweating in his suit. The graphic indicates "Mr.Purple."
The view swivels back around, a disturbing sensation given the insane
bouncing. Teleoptics kick in on the camera, and the view magnifies in
stages, out to x25 where the rear of a tan 2055 model Land Rover can be
seen. The driver can barely be seen, but with the intense magnification=
it can be seen that a Hispanic dwarf is at the wheel. Another graphic
appears, a wire frame image of a hard-faced dwarf. The wire frame
rotates, and settles on top of the dwarf driving the distant Land Rover. =
Bright green letters appear on top of the wire frame indicating "90.325%
probability Macros the Black." A voice is heard behind the camera. Your=
best guess it is the Whistler speaking.
"We have a 90% match. Where did you find this software?"
Mr.Purple speaks up. "A souvenir I picked up. Picked it up a
couple of years ago. Still cutting edge drek."
Spring Rivers voice is cut back in. "So we got him?"
The camera returns to normal magnification and swivels over to
Spring Rivers. "Have you been paid yet?"
Spring Rivers frowns. "No."
"Then we donÕt have him yet."
The camera swings back to the front, and magnifies out to x20.
The tan 2055 Land Rover swings off onto another, even smaller dirt road,
and is lost to the camera because of the tall sugarcane.
+++++FAST FORWARD 201 SECONDS+++++
The Land Rover is now out of the sugarcane field. Off in the
distance is a small wooden house, in the shelter of a montrous tree of
unknown type. The tan 2055 Land Rover can just be barely seen peeking
out from behind the house. The camera no longer bounces, and in fact the=
vintage Land Rover has come to a complete stop. The camera (and you now
guess that the Whistler has it mounted on his shoulder) is moved to the
outside of the Land Rover, and suddenly shows nothing but grass as the
Whistler drops prone.
"What do you see Purple?" asks the voice of the Whistler.
"Looks like we have one signature inside the structure, possibly
a dwarf, but it doesn't stand out with all the background heat. I can
only see a moving blur to indicate anything."
"Okay, hang on. I'll be back in a second," replies the Whistler.
"Where you going?" asks Spring Rivers, but she gets no reply.
Several long seconds pass before anything happens, the camera
still showing a view of several ants marching through the grass.
"Shit, this may not be as easy as we thought." It is the
Whistler's voice.
"I thought you were going somewhere?" asks Spring Rivers.
"I did. Purple, Macros is a physical adept of some power. He
didn't see me in the astral, but he is in there, he doesn't seem to be
aware of us, and he _is_ an adept." The Whistler's voice is tinged with
a touch of fear hidden among the frustrated sarcasm.
"Well, no one ever said it would be easy. Let's go get the
fragger." Mr.Purple's voice has a tint of fear also, hidden among the
confidence.
The camera view again shifts as the Whistler stands up. He is
calmly walking forward, Spring Rivers and Mr.Purple about 50 yards ahead
of him, running in combat crouches. Mr.Purple has a pistol in each hand,=
but it is difficult to tell what. Spring Rivers is cradling her Ares
Alpha loosely in her hands, but it is clear she is ready to spring into
motion at any second. Indeed, her motions have the strange grace common
to those with wired reflexes. It only takes a little over a minute for
the Whistler to cross the entire distance. By this time, both Spring
Rivers and Mr.Purple have dissappeared from the cameras view, somewhere
on the other side of the small wooden shack. The Whistler pauses before
stepping onto the wide porch. The camera looks down as he ejects the
clip from his chromed Savallette, looks at the rounds (which you guess
_might_ be APDS), then slams the clip back into the Savallette. The
Whistler steps onto the wooden porch with a loud creak of old boards.
The camera doesn't move for a split second, then the Whistler dives
forward and to the side, slamming against the wall of the shack, just in
time to be missed by a shockingly quiet burst of bullets that explode
through the door. Inside you hear the loud reports of gunfire, and a
round bursts through the wall right in front of the camera. The Whistler=
jumps up, and starts running towards the only window on this side. He
gathers himself and dives through the glass, tumbling onto a green
couch. In front of him is a hispanic dwarf, spinning around to see what
has crashed through the window. The Whistler fires off a burst from his
Savallette that slams right into the chest of what must be Macros the
Black. The hard-faced dwarf stumbles backwards, and seems about ready to=
fire at nearly point blank range at the Whistler with what must have once=
been a heavy machine gun. But before Macros can pull the trigger,
Mr.Purple suddenly appears behind him, striking Macros in the back of the=
head his the pistol in his right hand. The eyes of Macros go glassy,
and then as a last response before collapsing into a heavy heap he fires
his modified machine gun wildly. The camera jerks backwards once, and
you can hear the Whistler curse.
Mr.Purple stands over Macros the Black, both pistols aimed at the
dwarfs head. He looks up at the Whistler and says "You gonna be okay?"
The Whistler grunts. "Yeah, one to the shoulder. You?"
"Caught one in the thigh" -you now notice his left pant leg has
been darkened by bleeding- "but I should be alright. Everything's revved=
up so damn high. I don't know about Spring though."
"Where is she?" asks the Whistler.
"Out back. She got hit hard. I sure as hell hope you got some
healing magic..."
"I'll be back in a few minutes. Make sure Macros stay down.
Kill him if you have to."
The Whistler goes back into the kitchen area and out the door in
the back. Spring Rivers is lying by the 2055 Land Rover, her head
propped up against the whell. The Whistler kneels next the the young
woman, and you can know see she has been hit by four or five rounds, and
is bleeding profusely. Her breath is coming quick and short, and her
eyes have taken on a slightly glassy look.
"I'm gonna die aren't I? Frag, I didn't think it would end like this."
The Whistler just shakes his head. Spring Rivers looks the
Whistler in the eyes, a pleading look in her young eyes. The Whistler
places his right hand on her chest, just above the heart. The hand
begins to glow with a golden light, which slowly begins to spread to
Spring Rivers. There is a look of wonder in her eyes as her wounds
slowly stop bleeding and finally close up, fresh pink skin where there
was once an open wound. The Whistler slowly gets up, and wipes what must=
be sweat from his forehead.
"You should be okay. I just wouldn't go around and get shot up
anytime soon." The Whistler's voice is noticebly tired.
Spring Rivers speaks as she gets up from the ground. "What about
you? You're bleeding also!"
"I'll live. I just need to sit down for a few minutes. Not a
whole hell lot of you is natural is it?"
+++++A/V INTERRUPT
Let me fast forward a bit. I healed my damn shoulder before
leaving that little shack. Didn't bother with Mr.Purple. Said his
metabolism was revved up so high that no one would know the difference in=
a few days. And Spring Rivers just kept looking at me with, well, awe.
Like she hadn't ever been healed by a mage before. Hasn't everyone?
I digress. We got Macros to what we thought was a secret
hideout. We tried to question him, but, well, you check it out.
+++++RESUME A/V
