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Mailing List Logs for ShadowRN

From: ANGLISS BRIAN EDWARD <angliss@****.Colorado.EDU>
Subject: Deliverance....
Date: Mon, 17 Jun 1996 20:03:39 -0600 (MDT)
>>>>>[Ahhhh, my ever useful leak inside InterPol has provided me with this
evening's entertainment. Enjoy.

+++++ Include InterPol Communications/Helmet Camera Log

CD: Commander Paul Drake
SM: Sergeant Montoya
JZ: Lt-Col Jose Zicahuata
LSR: Lone Star Liaison Representative
AK: Agent Kink
ST: Sergent Tagit

CD: We've got to be missing something....

SM: Boss?

CD: We're handing Zicahuata back to his bosses. Lynch said he was going
to kill him if we couldn't put him away, and I haven't known him to say
things he doesn't mean. He's definately going to make a try for our
favorite Aztlan professional psychopath. Now, how the frag do we stop
him - and don't say "we don't," Sergeant.

SM: Boss, stop the fraggin preaching already. I understand, and will do
my job. Just don't expect me to not dance up a storm if Lynch nails
him.

CD: Allright, Monty. I'll lay off for a while, but I'll keep reminding
you from time to time too. But I still have a feel that we're missing
something....

SM: If we are, I can't think of it. You did the work, and us snipers
went over it and plugged the holes. There's eight of us, however many
the Azzies brought - you gotta love the fact that they're supposed to be
"neutral" in this one - and 30 or so Lone Star cops to make sure things
stay neutral. The rooftops, windows, buildings, everything's covered.

CD: And if he goes for the more direct approach and doesn't snipe?

SM: There's something more direct than a sniper rifle? Ok, whatever....
If he moves on the ground, Kink, Crimson, and Long Arm are on overwatch,
with spotters, and the helo and drones are already on air patrol.

CD: And the bomb sweeps?

SM: The whole area's been swept twice already, and we're doing our last
walkdown now. Considering the area of effect, Lynch would need a
drekload of explosives to take Zicky down, and that would nail at least
20 non-targets. Sure, he doesn't give a flying frag about the Azzy reps,
but a bomb still isn't in his profile.

CD: Agreed. Glad to see you read his file.

SM: Naturally. I read the fragger every which way but loose. Too bad
we can't get him and make him a cop. Desert Wars at fourteen,
cybersoldier at 16, he'd make one fraggin awesome Special Branch cop....

CD: No drek, but I don't have a fraggin clue as to how to do it. If
there were just a few more holes in my orders....

SM: Yeah. Well, we're set. The area's secure for two blocks around the
exchange zone. Lone Star's in position, Aztlan ETA 11 minutes, and
we're on site in three. Zicky's still breathing, unfortunately.

CD: And I still have this feeling that we're missing something....

<pause>

+++++ Engage Video

(Commander Drake and Zicahuata are sitting in the back of a Black Mariah
prisoner transport: the view is from Drake's helmet camera. Zicahuata's
hands are cuffed in front of him and and he's wearing the bright yellow
prison fatigues).

SM: We're here, boss. No sign of intrusion, Astral or otherwise. All
secure as far as we can tell. Long Arm, Kink, and Crimson report
explosive ammo loaded and weapons free.

CD: Right. Let's get this the frag over with.

JZ: I look forward to when Lynch sits here, and I wait there to collect
him, Commander. (Zicahuata smiles to himself).

CD: Shut the frag up, Lieutenant-Colonel.

JZ: Oh, Commander. Why are you so touchy about doing your duty?

CD: Monty, if he says another fraggin word, the prisoner slipped and
fell getting to his feet.

SM: My pleasure, boss.

JZ: Threats again, Commander?

CD: Jose, Lynch told me he was going to kill you. You wouldn't want me
to be so amused by your repartee that I let him slip past me, would you?
I didn't think so.

(Drake glances at a magazine of APDS-Explosive rounds, raps it on his
heel to settle the cartridges, locks it into his AK-98 and chambers the
first round. Zicahuata looks like he was about to say something, but
stays quiet).

LSR: Aztechnology reps in position. My guys covering. Explosive check
clean, nothing out here but ammo. Anytime, InterPol.

CD: Move it, Jose.

(The rear hatch of the APC opens, dirty sunlight leaking in: Drake
climbs out, looking around. Across the street are three Aztechnology
Citymasters and a dozen or so uniformed Leopard Guards. Scattered about
are Lone Star troops in full combat gear, and Drake has several InterPol
agents around their APC. The roofs have several snipers with various
sniping rifles covering the exchnage ground. Everyone regards everyone
else tensely, then Zicahuata stands beside Drake.)

JZ: Let us get on with it, Commander.

(Drake nods once, and Zicahuata begins to walk across the street towards
the Aztechnology group.)

CD: Wait a sec.... 30 plus Lone Star guards..... DREK!!!

(As Zicahuata approaches one of the Lone Star troops, the policeman
raises his tinted visor and stares directly at Drake for a moment: the
Star trooper is pale-skinned, lean under the bulk of armour and weapons,
and his eyes are a piercing dark grey.)

CD: ZICAHUATA, DOWN! SNIPE THE LS COP!

(As Drake brings the rifle to his shoulder, many things happen at once:
the policeman punches Zicahuata twice in the chest, as white smoke boils
up and hides the street from view. You hear automatic gunfire and
screams from inside the smoke.)

CD: Track him!

SM: Trying! Smoke's hot. Tagit, go US!

ST: Roger. Ultrasound - FRAGGIT! Jammed!

(Bullets rip into the wall by Drake, some ricocheting off the APC. The
smoke ahead of him is suddenly lit with a orange-yellow glare, as a dull
concussion knocks the Commander back some, but not over.)

CD: Where the frag did he go?

LSR: I got no track and three men down!

SM: No track, sir.

ST: Sonofaslitch! No track, boss. Clean break.

CD: Drones?

SM: Ziv's in destruction shock again, sir. Drone's down. Helo says no
contact.

CD: How about astral?

SM: HQ says a spirit kept overwatch too busy to track him.

CD: Fraggit all.

(Drake rises from his crouch to his feet and looks around as the gunfire
dies away and the smoke begins to clear. Across the street, several
Leopards are down and recieving attention, one of their APCs burning
sullenly. The area is thinly carpeted with glittering shreds of chaff.
and a man in yellow fatigues lies on his back in the middle of the
street. Drake walks up to him, looking down: Zicahuata has been stabbed
twice in the chest and once in the side of the head, the wet bloodstains
spreading and a skull-pommeled knife still jutting from his cranium.)

CD(under breath): Fraggit, Lynch, Aztlan was probably going to save you
the trouble. Had to be a fragging dramatist.

LSR(running up, breathing hard): Drake, your men okay?

CD: Fine, no serious casualties. Your men?

LSR: Three down, one bad. All where the Leopards got triggerhappy.
Commander, I vetted every one of those men myself, I don't know how-

CD: We're dealing with a professional, Joe. He's good at this. Does it
for a living.

(Drake is still staring down at Zicahuata's corpse, shaking his head
slowly.)

LSR: I've got an ambulance coming.

CD: Forget it. All this guy needs is a coroner. And get me forensics on
that knife.

LSR: I've seen something like that before...

CD: Movies and comic books, Joe. Lynch likes John Woo and, apparently,
the Phantom too.

LSR: Well, at least we get to close off a few dozen files as 'suspect
deceased.' Makes a change.

CD: Don't you start with me too.

LSR: And don't you drek me, Drake. We both know who this guy was and
what he did, and I'm buying for my men tonight because today someone did
what both our bosses kept us from doing months ago. Now we got to hunt
"the evil killer of the noble Colonel Zichuata". Okay. But personally
I'm looking for the guy with all the enthusiasm and vigour I was allowed
to use when I was cleaning up Laughing Boy's messes here. It goes
around, now it comes around.

CD: Just do your job, Joe.

LSR: If we'd done our jobs in the first place, Drake, this wouldn't have
had to happen. (He turns on his heel, walks away. After an instant,
Drake follows and catches up with him, reaching out and stopping him.)

CD: Here, Joe, take this and invite my guys along too. Buy them a
round or two, ok?

LSR: You sure?

CD: Just keep my name out of it. Just because I have to be a cold-cast
titanium sonofaslitch doesn't mean I can't agree with you a little bit.

LSR: Ok, Paul.

CD: Thanks.

SM: Boss?

CD: Monty, call in a meatwagon and start a walkdown for forensics.

+++++ End InterPol Communication/Helmet Video Log +++++ ]<<<<<
-- Trideo Pirate <20:01:27/06-17-56>

Disclaimer

These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.