Post by TheNewBreed on Feb 11, 2023 15:41:56 GMT -5
The crunch of gravel beneath booted feet broke the silence. The hushed grinding of tiny pebbles against one another moved closer and closer as one after another, men in tactical body suits and camo gear hefting AR-15s rounded the corner of a sheet metal wall and made their way towards a plywood doorway part way down the walls surface and took up breaching positions. Two men stood on either side of the door while a fifth man came from the back of the line with a large portable steel ram and a sixth came to join him on either side of the door, taking hold of the steel handles of the ram and nodding a three count as the first four men signaled they were ready.
With each nod of the man;s head, the ram feinted a swing forward, and then pulled back to gain more momentum before flying forward and back in a rocking motion. On the third nod, the ram sped forward, and splintered the plywood doorway as it exploded into the dark room inside. The two men puled back a step as the four on either side of the door took their turn to flood the room before them.
From the end of their rifle barrels, bright white LED flashlights sparked to life and splayed their cone of illumination across the darkened warehouse inside as the men poured inside and quickly cleared the small confines of the room.
“Clear.” one of the men said in a whisper, echoed in turn by the other five as they make sure there were no other occupants of the room.
Inside, we see two other doors leading off of this small antechamber. Three of the men move to each of the doors, and split sides as they prepare to breach those doors as well, as the scene pans up and out of the warehouse to a rooftop nearby. There, surrounded by a wall of monitors on a large metal table, stand Darina Weiman, monitoring the team inside of the test below. Many angles on each monitor show the men in the darkened rooms below as they advance in the test zone, clearing the rooms as they move through the warehouse. She scans the monitors with great scrutiny, seeking any flaws in the methods or movements of the team below. Mistakes in their line of work are fatal... and that was the best case scenario. The last thing she wanted was to see any of her men crippled or maimed in the line of duty.
Often, men who were didn't make it to see the end of a natural life, and that wasn't something she wanted to have weighing on her conscience in her old age, IF she ever made it that far, that was for sure. The torment a warrior goes through when he knows he will not find his end on the field of battle is a twisted thing of spite, hatred, and rage, and often the men who found that demon in the back of a darkened mirror never found themselves again. It was ugly... and tragic... and she didn't want to subject anyone to that kind of life if she could help it.
So... they trained... often... to make sure they were capable and efficient, and that they always brought everyone home... every time.
As she scanned the screens before her, a bright green flash of light emanated from behind her with a loud 'POP' as the Axtgriff FTV suddenly existed on the garage roof nearby. Darina jumped a little as it came into being so near to her, and she shuddered thinking about what might happen if John was ever just a little bit off in his coordinates and the truck came into being in the space she might occupy at the time. The thought had haunted her since the Citizen and Cable had shown up with it and the R2 unit in tow a couple of months ago, and she hadn't been able to shake it yet. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she ever would. The thought of it was terrifying at some strange base level in her mind, and one day, she wondered if she would be proven right.
“Greetings, Darina Weiman. It is good to see you once again.” the R2 Unit buzzed at her as it floated up out of its control pod in the back wall of the cabin of the truck and hovered towards her, blinking its one round, green lens visual sensor.
“Yeah... you too R2-IDEA.” she responds without taking her eyes off of the monitors, her tone openly irritated.
“You seem to be... irritated... I believe the word is. Your stress levels are elevated as indicated by your biochemistry, and your heart rate is slightly high, while not out of...” R2 started to analyze her, before she turned on it floating in the air and smiled at it, taking her gaze from the monitors.
“Look... I don't need you to analyze or scan or diagnose anything right now, so keep your scanners to yourself, OK?” Darina snaps at the egg shaped droid floating towards her as she cuts of its statement of her status and comes to a stop in midair between her and the truck.
“Of course, Darina Weiman. I did not mean to...” the droid responds in its buzzing tones before she waves it off with one hand as she turns back to her screens.
“No worries... it's just weird still.” she mumbles as she watches the teams move through the rooms below.
“...be back out there tomorrow afternoon. When I get in I'll call you and we can figure out what we need to do from there, OK?” John's voice carries over the top of the truck as he opens his door and climbs out, mid conversation on his phone.
“Alright, good. See you then.” he finishes, and slides his phone in the pocket of his dark gray slacks and makes his way around the truck towards Darina and he R2 unit.
“So... it couldn't have been discussed on the phone?” she asks John without looking back at him, her eyes still scanning the screens stacked on the table before her.
“What are you talking about?” John asks, confused.
“The Lexi issue. Is it twisted enough you didn't want to talk to me about it on the phone?” she asks, finally turning away from the screens to look at him, eye to eye, and see for herself what he's saying without saying it when he answers.
“How the hell did you even know what I came out here for?” John asks, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You pay me to know everything about you and those around you. If I don't then I can't keep you safe. I'm not the best at what I do for nothing. Geez.” she rolls her eyes as she turns back to the monitors. He's nervous and worried, and things could be way worse than they know... or their just paranoid and it's nothing really. Sh has seen clients on both ends of the spectrum, and she knows far better than to take any worry about the safety of her clients for granted.
“Well, I mean yeah but...” he starts before she cuts him off.
“No... I have one job to do... and I won't fail at it again. Of all people, you know this better than anyone else. How deep do you want to hide her?” she asks, cutting straight to the point in her normal no nonsense fashion.
“Well, that's what I came out here to talk to you about.” John chuckles to himself, wondering why he ever underestimates her as the scene fades to black.
Fred... seriously though... this roller coaster we're on... with you always standing on the stepping stones of my destiny looking back at me while you leap ahead on the tracks and leave me in your rear view... it's getting old... and I think you may want to get off of the ride right here.
It's about to get scary now, more than just a bit harrowing, you see... and I fear your nerves might not withstand the pressure.
I mean, I'm not talking about weird ass ethereal bunnies or the moth-man here, OK?
I'm talking about actually facing me one on one for a change inside that ring, not buried in a pile of bodies all clawing to find purchase in the shifting sands beneath our feet... but just you and me... success and failure up to us... no others to distract or interfere in the fate we intertwine between us... just us... face to face... and only your will to win to hold you up on your own two feet.
I have to wonder, Fred... can you handle it? Will you have the nerve to stand toe to toe on your own merit, against a man who is a real threat to your so called Kingdom? No Peter Vaughn... No Mark Flynn... No JMont... No Paulie Riggs... No Chris Page... just you and me... finally... one on one... with the world watching.
I would be concerned for you honestly, Fred. I mean... I WOULD be... but you have exactly what you deserve coming to you, Fred.
For the first time since the Relaunch, you are going to have to face me... and answer for your sins unfettered by the interference of others. You will have to prove your own merit for a change, Fred, and I wonder if you're up to the challenge personally.
You've made a habit of standing on the shoulders of others for so long, I wonder if, when you HAVE to stand on your own two feet, will your legs even have the strength to hold you up under the weight of it all? Or... will you crumble under the pressure to preform and stand up on your own, crushed beneath the weight of the knowledge that you were all bluster and hot air, and now the world will know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you can't hang in the upper echelons of the business on your own, and you've deceived them all into thinking you were a top tier talent, when in reality, your nothing better than a mid-card blow hard who deserves what he's about to get?
The reckoning is coming, Fred... and Monday night at WGWF BRAWL... in front of the fans in attendance in the CCPE Arena, the millions watching at home, each and every one of your brothers of the CCPE, and every single one of the Breeders out there... I'm going to dismantle you with my bare hands and expose you for the overinflated, over-hyped, self absorbed little village that you really are... not the Kingdom you claim to be.
With each nod of the man;s head, the ram feinted a swing forward, and then pulled back to gain more momentum before flying forward and back in a rocking motion. On the third nod, the ram sped forward, and splintered the plywood doorway as it exploded into the dark room inside. The two men puled back a step as the four on either side of the door took their turn to flood the room before them.
From the end of their rifle barrels, bright white LED flashlights sparked to life and splayed their cone of illumination across the darkened warehouse inside as the men poured inside and quickly cleared the small confines of the room.
“Clear.” one of the men said in a whisper, echoed in turn by the other five as they make sure there were no other occupants of the room.
Inside, we see two other doors leading off of this small antechamber. Three of the men move to each of the doors, and split sides as they prepare to breach those doors as well, as the scene pans up and out of the warehouse to a rooftop nearby. There, surrounded by a wall of monitors on a large metal table, stand Darina Weiman, monitoring the team inside of the test below. Many angles on each monitor show the men in the darkened rooms below as they advance in the test zone, clearing the rooms as they move through the warehouse. She scans the monitors with great scrutiny, seeking any flaws in the methods or movements of the team below. Mistakes in their line of work are fatal... and that was the best case scenario. The last thing she wanted was to see any of her men crippled or maimed in the line of duty.
Often, men who were didn't make it to see the end of a natural life, and that wasn't something she wanted to have weighing on her conscience in her old age, IF she ever made it that far, that was for sure. The torment a warrior goes through when he knows he will not find his end on the field of battle is a twisted thing of spite, hatred, and rage, and often the men who found that demon in the back of a darkened mirror never found themselves again. It was ugly... and tragic... and she didn't want to subject anyone to that kind of life if she could help it.
So... they trained... often... to make sure they were capable and efficient, and that they always brought everyone home... every time.
As she scanned the screens before her, a bright green flash of light emanated from behind her with a loud 'POP' as the Axtgriff FTV suddenly existed on the garage roof nearby. Darina jumped a little as it came into being so near to her, and she shuddered thinking about what might happen if John was ever just a little bit off in his coordinates and the truck came into being in the space she might occupy at the time. The thought had haunted her since the Citizen and Cable had shown up with it and the R2 unit in tow a couple of months ago, and she hadn't been able to shake it yet. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she ever would. The thought of it was terrifying at some strange base level in her mind, and one day, she wondered if she would be proven right.
“Greetings, Darina Weiman. It is good to see you once again.” the R2 Unit buzzed at her as it floated up out of its control pod in the back wall of the cabin of the truck and hovered towards her, blinking its one round, green lens visual sensor.
“Yeah... you too R2-IDEA.” she responds without taking her eyes off of the monitors, her tone openly irritated.
“You seem to be... irritated... I believe the word is. Your stress levels are elevated as indicated by your biochemistry, and your heart rate is slightly high, while not out of...” R2 started to analyze her, before she turned on it floating in the air and smiled at it, taking her gaze from the monitors.
“Look... I don't need you to analyze or scan or diagnose anything right now, so keep your scanners to yourself, OK?” Darina snaps at the egg shaped droid floating towards her as she cuts of its statement of her status and comes to a stop in midair between her and the truck.
“Of course, Darina Weiman. I did not mean to...” the droid responds in its buzzing tones before she waves it off with one hand as she turns back to her screens.
“No worries... it's just weird still.” she mumbles as she watches the teams move through the rooms below.
“...be back out there tomorrow afternoon. When I get in I'll call you and we can figure out what we need to do from there, OK?” John's voice carries over the top of the truck as he opens his door and climbs out, mid conversation on his phone.
“Alright, good. See you then.” he finishes, and slides his phone in the pocket of his dark gray slacks and makes his way around the truck towards Darina and he R2 unit.
“So... it couldn't have been discussed on the phone?” she asks John without looking back at him, her eyes still scanning the screens stacked on the table before her.
“What are you talking about?” John asks, confused.
“The Lexi issue. Is it twisted enough you didn't want to talk to me about it on the phone?” she asks, finally turning away from the screens to look at him, eye to eye, and see for herself what he's saying without saying it when he answers.
“How the hell did you even know what I came out here for?” John asks, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You pay me to know everything about you and those around you. If I don't then I can't keep you safe. I'm not the best at what I do for nothing. Geez.” she rolls her eyes as she turns back to the monitors. He's nervous and worried, and things could be way worse than they know... or their just paranoid and it's nothing really. Sh has seen clients on both ends of the spectrum, and she knows far better than to take any worry about the safety of her clients for granted.
“Well, I mean yeah but...” he starts before she cuts him off.
“No... I have one job to do... and I won't fail at it again. Of all people, you know this better than anyone else. How deep do you want to hide her?” she asks, cutting straight to the point in her normal no nonsense fashion.
“Well, that's what I came out here to talk to you about.” John chuckles to himself, wondering why he ever underestimates her as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Fred... seriously though... this roller coaster we're on... with you always standing on the stepping stones of my destiny looking back at me while you leap ahead on the tracks and leave me in your rear view... it's getting old... and I think you may want to get off of the ride right here.
It's about to get scary now, more than just a bit harrowing, you see... and I fear your nerves might not withstand the pressure.
I mean, I'm not talking about weird ass ethereal bunnies or the moth-man here, OK?
I'm talking about actually facing me one on one for a change inside that ring, not buried in a pile of bodies all clawing to find purchase in the shifting sands beneath our feet... but just you and me... success and failure up to us... no others to distract or interfere in the fate we intertwine between us... just us... face to face... and only your will to win to hold you up on your own two feet.
I have to wonder, Fred... can you handle it? Will you have the nerve to stand toe to toe on your own merit, against a man who is a real threat to your so called Kingdom? No Peter Vaughn... No Mark Flynn... No JMont... No Paulie Riggs... No Chris Page... just you and me... finally... one on one... with the world watching.
I would be concerned for you honestly, Fred. I mean... I WOULD be... but you have exactly what you deserve coming to you, Fred.
For the first time since the Relaunch, you are going to have to face me... and answer for your sins unfettered by the interference of others. You will have to prove your own merit for a change, Fred, and I wonder if you're up to the challenge personally.
You've made a habit of standing on the shoulders of others for so long, I wonder if, when you HAVE to stand on your own two feet, will your legs even have the strength to hold you up under the weight of it all? Or... will you crumble under the pressure to preform and stand up on your own, crushed beneath the weight of the knowledge that you were all bluster and hot air, and now the world will know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you can't hang in the upper echelons of the business on your own, and you've deceived them all into thinking you were a top tier talent, when in reality, your nothing better than a mid-card blow hard who deserves what he's about to get?
The reckoning is coming, Fred... and Monday night at WGWF BRAWL... in front of the fans in attendance in the CCPE Arena, the millions watching at home, each and every one of your brothers of the CCPE, and every single one of the Breeders out there... I'm going to dismantle you with my bare hands and expose you for the overinflated, over-hyped, self absorbed little village that you really are... not the Kingdom you claim to be.