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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 3987890" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Welcome to the Show: Part 3e – Jake’s Story</strong></p><p></p><p>Jake had just finished putting the band's equipment back in their van when a Latino man with an unhealthy pallor followed him out of the club.</p><p></p><p>"Mr. Ironshirt?"</p><p></p><p>Jake turned to face him. "I prefer Blade. But yes."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, I heard all about your television show, Mr. Ironshirt. I'd like to speak with you a moment, if you don't mind."</p><p></p><p>Jake took a deep breath. "It's late and I'm tired. You can catch me later at the next gig."</p><p></p><p>The man shook his head. "I wasn't asking you, Mr. Ironshirt." He fished a badge out of his suit pocket. "NYPD. Narcotics. I'm sure you can find the time."</p><p></p><p>Spider clambered out of the van, eyeing the man. "Go on, Jake. We'll be fine."</p><p></p><p>Jake sighed. "Okay." He turned back to the man. "Are you arresting me, officer..."</p><p></p><p>"Lieutenant Ramirez," he coughed. "No, I'm not arresting you, not yet. But it's urgent I speak with you." He pointed at a coffee shop that was still open at three in the morning. "Let's get some coffee."</p><p></p><p>They entered and sat down. The place was mostly deserted, with one waitress handling the few customers that had filtered out of Club Apocalypse. She came by and sullenly took their order.</p><p></p><p>"I've been tailing Mr. Alzis for some time. His Club Apocalypse is a front."</p><p></p><p>"For drugs?"</p><p></p><p>Ramirez leaned forward, the bright overhead lighting shadowing his sunken eyes. "Much worse than that, Mr. Ironshirt. Much worse. Mr. Alzis, and his compatriot Mr. Hubert, are part of a crime syndicate I call the Network. Like most syndicates, the Network has its fingers in drugs, prostitution, extortion...the usual. But the Network is different because it provides some very special services. One of them is favors. His Network specializes in the impossible. And I think you just received a favor from Mr. Alzis."</p><p></p><p>Jake's eyes narrowed. "Were you eavesdropping?"</p><p></p><p>Ramirez chuckled. "I wish. Club Apocalypse is impenetrable. But your band went downstairs on their first night. The Rising's just a bunch of kids. Mr. Alzis already has his own band, Charnel Dreams. I've been on the force long enough to look for the one thing that doesn't belong, and you are that one thing, Mr. Ironshirt."</p><p></p><p>"What are you saying?"</p><p></p><p>"I'm saying that Mr. Alzis isn't interested in The Rising at all. He invited the band to Club Apocalypse because he wanted to speak with you. And Mr. Alzis doesn't just speak with anybody. He spoke to you for a reason. That's why we're having coffee right now, Mr. Ironshirt, because I want to know what that reason is."</p><p></p><p>The coffee arrived. Jake sipped it while he gathered his thoughts.</p><p></p><p>"It was about my son."</p><p></p><p>Ramirez took out a notebook from his pocket and flipped through the pages. "Alex?"</p><p></p><p>Jake nodded. "Alex."</p><p></p><p>Ramirez scanned his notes. "That's the boy you had with Christine Dee. Man, she was a looker in her day, huh? You two got involved when you were her bodyguard..."</p><p></p><p>Jake stopped drinking and placed his hands on the table, palm down. "You read a lot of tabloids, Officer Ramirez."</p><p></p><p>Ramirez shrugged. "I have a lot of time on my stake-outs. But I meant no disrespect. What the hell would a crime lord like Alzis want with your son?"</p><p></p><p>Jake shook his head. "I wish I knew. He wanted me to go see him. He even handed me a plane ticket..."</p><p></p><p>"A plane ticket?" Ramirez leaned forward. "Let me see it."</p><p></p><p>Jake fished the ticket out of his vest pocket and put it on the table.</p><p></p><p>Ramirez snatched it up. "This is good. I can trace this. If he bought it with dirty money, maybe I can figure out how the Network launders it--"</p><p></p><p>Jake yanked the ticket out of Ramirez's hand. "Not if it endangers my son."</p><p></p><p>A flash of aggravation crossed Ramirez's face, but he retained his composure. "No, of course not. I'm not married myself, but my brother is. Two kids, cute as pie. What did Alzis say about your son?"</p><p></p><p>"He told me to be a good father. Said he doesn't want Alex to grow up to be like him."</p><p></p><p>Ramirez nodded. "So weird Uncle Alzis shows up one day, gives you a plane ticket, and wants you on the first plane back to California." His eyes were wide and bloodshot. "I've never seen this kind of behavior before. Do you know what this is?"</p><p></p><p>"What?"</p><p></p><p>"Alzis is AFRAID of you. And Alzis is afraid of no man." He took a long sip of his coffee. "This is too big to pass up." Ramirez flipped through his notebook. "You lost custody of Alex a few years ago."</p><p></p><p>Jake nodded.</p><p></p><p>"So what are you going to do? Fly back and tell the lovely Ms. Dee's bodyguards to let you see him?"</p><p></p><p>Jake bit his lip. He didn't know either. "I think I have to speak with her."</p><p></p><p>"You do need to speak with her, I agree. But according to my research, part of the reason for the custody battle was your drinking problem..."</p><p></p><p>"I haven't touched a drink in two years," snarled Jake.</p><p></p><p>Ramirez kept speaking. "...and the fact that you couldn't hold down a job. What would you say, Mr. Ironshirt, if I told you I can offer you that job?"</p><p></p><p>Jake grappled with his emotions. Did he just hear him right?</p><p></p><p>Ramirez waved the waitress over. "We'll take the check."</p><p></p><p>"A job?"</p><p></p><p>"A job. A job that pays good money. A job that will help you gain visitation rights to Alex. And a job that will guarantee he's protected round the clock."</p><p></p><p>"I'd say sign me up," said Jake. "What are you offering?"</p><p></p><p>The waitress came over with the check and two mints, one blue, and one red.</p><p></p><p>"I spiked your coffee with a sedative to keep you calm, Mr. Ironshirt, so hear me out." Ramirez smoothed out his tie. "I work for an organization known as Majestic-12. We are a clandestine taskforce that deals with the elimination and obscuration of preternatural phenomena that pose a threat to our citizens and their country. Threats like the Network, who is into far worse things than anything you can imagine. I believe you'd be an asset to our organization, Mr. Ironshirt. If you're interested, take the red mint. If you're not, take the blue mint and we'll forget this ever happened."</p><p></p><p>Jake looked down at the two mints.</p><p></p><p>"You covering the check?" he asked.</p><p></p><p>Ramirez laughed. "Of course."</p><p></p><p>Jake took the red mint.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 3987890, member: 3285"] [b]Welcome to the Show: Part 3e – Jake’s Story[/b] Jake had just finished putting the band's equipment back in their van when a Latino man with an unhealthy pallor followed him out of the club. "Mr. Ironshirt?" Jake turned to face him. "I prefer Blade. But yes." "Yeah, I heard all about your television show, Mr. Ironshirt. I'd like to speak with you a moment, if you don't mind." Jake took a deep breath. "It's late and I'm tired. You can catch me later at the next gig." The man shook his head. "I wasn't asking you, Mr. Ironshirt." He fished a badge out of his suit pocket. "NYPD. Narcotics. I'm sure you can find the time." Spider clambered out of the van, eyeing the man. "Go on, Jake. We'll be fine." Jake sighed. "Okay." He turned back to the man. "Are you arresting me, officer..." "Lieutenant Ramirez," he coughed. "No, I'm not arresting you, not yet. But it's urgent I speak with you." He pointed at a coffee shop that was still open at three in the morning. "Let's get some coffee." They entered and sat down. The place was mostly deserted, with one waitress handling the few customers that had filtered out of Club Apocalypse. She came by and sullenly took their order. "I've been tailing Mr. Alzis for some time. His Club Apocalypse is a front." "For drugs?" Ramirez leaned forward, the bright overhead lighting shadowing his sunken eyes. "Much worse than that, Mr. Ironshirt. Much worse. Mr. Alzis, and his compatriot Mr. Hubert, are part of a crime syndicate I call the Network. Like most syndicates, the Network has its fingers in drugs, prostitution, extortion...the usual. But the Network is different because it provides some very special services. One of them is favors. His Network specializes in the impossible. And I think you just received a favor from Mr. Alzis." Jake's eyes narrowed. "Were you eavesdropping?" Ramirez chuckled. "I wish. Club Apocalypse is impenetrable. But your band went downstairs on their first night. The Rising's just a bunch of kids. Mr. Alzis already has his own band, Charnel Dreams. I've been on the force long enough to look for the one thing that doesn't belong, and you are that one thing, Mr. Ironshirt." "What are you saying?" "I'm saying that Mr. Alzis isn't interested in The Rising at all. He invited the band to Club Apocalypse because he wanted to speak with you. And Mr. Alzis doesn't just speak with anybody. He spoke to you for a reason. That's why we're having coffee right now, Mr. Ironshirt, because I want to know what that reason is." The coffee arrived. Jake sipped it while he gathered his thoughts. "It was about my son." Ramirez took out a notebook from his pocket and flipped through the pages. "Alex?" Jake nodded. "Alex." Ramirez scanned his notes. "That's the boy you had with Christine Dee. Man, she was a looker in her day, huh? You two got involved when you were her bodyguard..." Jake stopped drinking and placed his hands on the table, palm down. "You read a lot of tabloids, Officer Ramirez." Ramirez shrugged. "I have a lot of time on my stake-outs. But I meant no disrespect. What the hell would a crime lord like Alzis want with your son?" Jake shook his head. "I wish I knew. He wanted me to go see him. He even handed me a plane ticket..." "A plane ticket?" Ramirez leaned forward. "Let me see it." Jake fished the ticket out of his vest pocket and put it on the table. Ramirez snatched it up. "This is good. I can trace this. If he bought it with dirty money, maybe I can figure out how the Network launders it--" Jake yanked the ticket out of Ramirez's hand. "Not if it endangers my son." A flash of aggravation crossed Ramirez's face, but he retained his composure. "No, of course not. I'm not married myself, but my brother is. Two kids, cute as pie. What did Alzis say about your son?" "He told me to be a good father. Said he doesn't want Alex to grow up to be like him." Ramirez nodded. "So weird Uncle Alzis shows up one day, gives you a plane ticket, and wants you on the first plane back to California." His eyes were wide and bloodshot. "I've never seen this kind of behavior before. Do you know what this is?" "What?" "Alzis is AFRAID of you. And Alzis is afraid of no man." He took a long sip of his coffee. "This is too big to pass up." Ramirez flipped through his notebook. "You lost custody of Alex a few years ago." Jake nodded. "So what are you going to do? Fly back and tell the lovely Ms. Dee's bodyguards to let you see him?" Jake bit his lip. He didn't know either. "I think I have to speak with her." "You do need to speak with her, I agree. But according to my research, part of the reason for the custody battle was your drinking problem..." "I haven't touched a drink in two years," snarled Jake. Ramirez kept speaking. "...and the fact that you couldn't hold down a job. What would you say, Mr. Ironshirt, if I told you I can offer you that job?" Jake grappled with his emotions. Did he just hear him right? Ramirez waved the waitress over. "We'll take the check." "A job?" "A job. A job that pays good money. A job that will help you gain visitation rights to Alex. And a job that will guarantee he's protected round the clock." "I'd say sign me up," said Jake. "What are you offering?" The waitress came over with the check and two mints, one blue, and one red. "I spiked your coffee with a sedative to keep you calm, Mr. Ironshirt, so hear me out." Ramirez smoothed out his tie. "I work for an organization known as Majestic-12. We are a clandestine taskforce that deals with the elimination and obscuration of preternatural phenomena that pose a threat to our citizens and their country. Threats like the Network, who is into far worse things than anything you can imagine. I believe you'd be an asset to our organization, Mr. Ironshirt. If you're interested, take the red mint. If you're not, take the blue mint and we'll forget this ever happened." Jake looked down at the two mints. "You covering the check?" he asked. Ramirez laughed. "Of course." Jake took the red mint. [/QUOTE]
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