| From: | ANGLISS BRIAN EDWARD <angliss@****.Colorado.EDU> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | When Titans Fall.... |
| Date: | Fri, 28 Jun 1996 00:39:23 -0600 (MDT) |
just recieved a final installment, an appendix if you will.
+++++ Include Communication/Camera Download +++++
CD: Commander Drake
G: Gate Guard
+++++ Drake slows to a halt at a gate, shows his ID to the security
guards. +++++
G: Need any help, sir?
CD: I don't think so, but I'll call in if I do. If there's trouble, some
backup will be coming. Airborne and ground.
G: We'll let them through, no problem, sir. Can you tell us what's up?
CD: Not yet. Do you have a log of which aircraft are in which hangars?
G: Naturally, sir. All here, movements logged for the last three months.
You want a look?
CD: Thank you.... there. Number 32A?
G: Follow the road around. Can't miss it. Sure you want to go alone?
CD: Yes. Please, just keep your distance.
+++++ Drake drives onto one of Sea-Tac airport's service roads, circling
behind the hangars: the high, green-painted buildings are identified by
large, cheerful numerals, and 32A comes up soon, a dirty brown Jackrabbit
parked beside it. Drake reaches for the radio.>
CD: (quietly) Monty, run a plate for me. (He reels off the registration.)
SM: Brown '53 Jackrabbit, reported stolen eleven minutes ago by a guy who
says he left it in the structure at the Kingdome.
CD: Drek. Roger that.
HQ: Commander, where the frag are you? Sergent Montoya?
SM: Boss, give me your location and we'll come to back you up, if you've-
+++++ Drake turns off the radio and sets down the AK-98, pulls his Colt
SWAT pistol, checks the loads, and then quietly climbs out of the car.
He begins walking cautiously and very quietly around the side of the
hangar. As he approaches, you see the main doors are open, and a
metallic rhythmic thumping comes from inside. Drake gently, very gently,
eases the saftey off the heavy pistol and leans around the wall to look
into the hangar.
Lynch is working the handle of some sort of pump, manually transferring fuel
into the wing tanks of a Mistral. A maze of bloody footprints shows where
he has walked: rusty smears on the plane's grey paint show where he's
touched it. A soaked field dressing is bound around one thigh, and his
whole left leg is saturated in blood: there's more on his jacket and his
hands. He's bowed with the effort of working the pump, each stroke
seeming to take his whole strength. Drake takes careful aim at the back
of his head before speaking. +++++
CD: Okay, Lynch, raise your hands. Slow and easy.
+++++ Lynch lets go of the pump and almost collapses sideways, his leg
giving out under him. He recovers, keeping his back turned to Drake, and
raises his bloodied hands. +++++
JL: I'm going to take my jacket off, then take my weapons off and put
them on the wing.
CD: Like I said. Slow and easy.
+++++ Lynch carefully - wincing several times - gets the worn and scuffed
leather jacket off, revealing a combat harness which he unfastens, clip
by clip, and places on the Mistral's wing. He puts the jacket beside the
harness as well, adds a pistol from an ankle holster. Standing there in
jeans and a Sisters T-shirt, he's even more emaciated than you previously
thought. His left arm is enveloped by a dramatic, colourful and very
beautiful dragon tattoo, which seems to run the length of his arm: from
its tail coiled around his shoulder to its jaws around his left
hand. +++++
CD: Frag, don't you ever eat?
JL: Like a horse. I'm just naturally thin or something.
CD: Okay. Turn around, sit down.
+++++ Lynch does, not quite hiding a groan of relief as he gets the weight
off his wounded leg. +++++
JL: So, we wait for your paddywagon, you take me to the rendezvous, and
we rejoice that the world is safe once more?
CD: How's the leg? Monty put a Barret round into it.
JL: Holding together. It won't kill me. Don't worry, Paul. Aztlan will
have medics and plenty of A-negative blood ready for me in Tenochitilan.
You're not allowed to pass out or die while they skin you, they want you
to enjoy every minute of the experience.
CD: You seem very calm about it.
JL: No, I'm not. I'm terrified. Will shouting or screaming help? I
could run (he gestures ruefully at his leg) or I could grab one of my
weapons and try to kill myself before you stop me. Neither will work.
So, I will show Aztlan how a warrior of the Sioux dies. They're going to
burn out my cyberware, shut down everything that might reduce the pain,
then kill me as slowly and painfully as they can. I will suffer and I
will die, and now nothing I do can change that, so I will die with
dignity and with pride.
CD: It is always a good day to die, Jason. I'm sorry, but as little as I
like doing this, and as much respect I have for you, it's still necessary.
JL: What do you want, Paul? Absolution? I can't give you that. I'm not
going to forgive you for protecting the guilty and helping them with
their crimes. We both believe in what we do, enough that we'd die for
it. It just seems I get called on that first. You say your way's better,
because it gives criminals a second chance. Sure it does. Look what's
going to happen to me. That is what you serve and protect, Paul. If you
do nothing else, think about that, long and hard. I don't even get to
say goodbye to Lilith. That hurts more than anything else. I had a lot
to live for, Drake. (Lynch reaches for a cigarette, stops.) Fuelling
area, no smoking. Shit.
I wondered what I'd say to you when I met you, Drake, and in the end I don't
think there's much point. You're as much a fanatic as Zicahuata. Come
on, let's go.
CD: Jason, I-
JL: I don't really care, Drake. Just do what you have to do. Obey your
law and sleep well tonight.
CD: Sleep well? Not likely. Now I have your death to add to my list of
crimes....
+++++ Lynch heaves himself to his feet, walks towards the hangar entrance.
Drake follows him, unlocking the rear secure compartment of the car and
closing it on Lynch, then taking the driver's seat and turning the car
around, leaving the airport. +++++
CD: There's a medkit in the back of the passenger's side seat, Lynch.
Lynch?
+++++ Glancing back, he sees that Lynch has passed out. Drake drives
north, toward InterPol Seattle, then turns east and drives toward Lake
Washington and Seward park. +++++
CD: Sorry to delay your execution, Jason, but I need to think for a minute,
even if you can't hear me. And you need the fraggin medkit or you'll bleed
to death.
+++++ Drake gets out of the car, removes his pistol, and starts applying a
new bandage to his leg, replacing the blood-soaked one. Lynch doesn't even
stir during the process. He then removes the helmet, and the image doesn't
change for several minutes. Drake replaces his helmet, and climbs back in
the car. Lynch is still unconscious. Drake leaves Seward park, heads north
to I-90, then East across Council Island, through Bellevue, and into Redmond.
The view gets gradually worse, with run down buildings and squatters
unaccustomed to the sight of a police car, never mind an InterPol car. He
stops, eventually, at an area where one side shows partially ruined slums
with construction going on and where the other shows a white, grafitti-free
picket fence. Behind the fence is green grass, and several children have
stopped playing and are staring at the car. A lone UCAS Marine is looking on
cautiously, with his rifle held ready. +++++
CD: Lynch, wake up.
+++++ After a moment, he goes around to open the door, rousing the
mercenary. +++++
JL: We there?
CD: We're here. Come on, get the frag out. You need a hand.
JL: I'll manage.
+++++ He hauls himself upright, the pain as his wounded leg takes the
weight visible: he looks around angrily. +++++
JL: Drake, this is not fucking funny. If Aztlan want to collect me here,
tell them to go to hell, they can make the pickup a street over. This
place is important, too important to screw around with.
CD: I know. And I nearly put the owner behind bars for generations.
They don't like me much here. But you're going inside. Now get the frag
out of here.
+++++ Lynch looks puzzled at Drake, leaning on the car for support. The
front door of Haven has opened and a single, red-headed elven man dressed
in jeans, black Converse high-tops, and a white T-shirt is slowly walking
down the path. +++++
CD: You heard me. Your leg needs healing, and if they can't do it here,
AJ's clinic is somewhere in Redmond and I know he can do it. And as soon
as I got you here, I was out of my jurisdiction anyway. Val there makes
the laws here, and I'm turning you loose.
+++++ He reaches into the car, turns the radio back on. +++++
CD: Sergeant Montoya? Is Marshall Qoph there with you?
SM: Boss, you okay? Uh, yeah, he is. Gimme a location and I'll be there
with a team ASAP.
CD: Excellent. I need this to be witnessed. Sergeant Montoya, I am
hereby promoting you to Lieutenant, effective now. I am ordering you to
assume command of Special Branch immediately. I am relieving myself ofduty
pending a full disciplinary hearing.
SM: What? Boss, what the frag are you talking about?
CD: I have Jason Running Wolf Lynch here with me, in custody, and I am
releasing him. Monty, until this is resolved and the outcome of my
disciplinary hearing is determined, you are in charge of Special Branch.
I will be returning to HQ within the hour: when I arrive, place me under
arrest. If you do not do so, have Marshal Qoph do it.
HQ: It'll be my pleasure, Drake.
SM: Boss, you've got to be kidding....
CD: Do your job, Lieutenant. Better than I'm doing mine.
SM: ....Sir.
+++++ Drake turrns off the radio. +++++
CD: What the frag, you're still standing there? Get your ass moving,
Lynch, before you fraggin bleed to death in the fraggin street!
JL: Full hearing, huh? Including the source of your orders, and someone
having to justify and explain them. You might get away with it, with luck
and a little help.
CD: I have all the help I need right now, but thanks anyway. Seriously,
Jason, if you interfere, it could cause more problems than it solves.
There's more at stake here than you know. And I'll take my chances, as
always.
JL: No, you won't. (Lynch lurches away from the car.) Once I get this
leg fixed, we'll sit back and watch. If you call me as witness, I'll
come. That's all we'll do at the hearing, but if necessary we'll bust
you out and recruit you, and if that makes you sick we'll feed you
intravenously. Good luck. You're going to need it.
+++++ Drake watches Lynch's progress as he crosses into Haven, another two
Marines arriving. They try to support him and he shrugs them off, walking
painfully onwards flanked by the soldiers. Until he reaches Valentine,
who reaches in quickly to help him and gives the wounded man no choice to
resist. +++++
CD (to himself): Ever the fragging dramatist.... Maybe I will sleep well
tonight after all.... (He climbs, heavily, into the car.)
++++++ End Communication/Camera Download +++++ ]<<<<<
-- Trideo Pirate <00:37:13/06-28-57>
