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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4559713" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Cold War: Part 3 – Smoke ‘Em Out</strong></p><p></p><p>The magazine stand in one corner of the convenience store was blazing away. The flames spread quickly to one wall.</p><p></p><p>“Fire extinguishers!” shouted Hammer. “Go!”</p><p></p><p>They spread out, looking for fire extinguishers. A few seconds later, the extinguishers managed to stop the blaze before it became an inferno. By that time, the massacre that was happening outside had stopped. The White Shadows were all dead.</p><p></p><p>Over the smell of smoke, there was a different odor—the sharp tang of gasoline in the air. </p><p></p><p>“That fire wasn’t an accident,” said Hammer. He looked suspiciously at the other patrons. “All of you, I want you to line up along this wall. We’re going to question you individually. Everyone stays in my sight.”</p><p></p><p>The other patrons and staff, wary of Hammer’s Glocks, did as they were told.</p><p></p><p>Archive was torn between watching the thing outside and trying to understand what he was reading. </p><p></p><p>“What’s that thing doing?” asked Jim-Bean, nonplussed by the ruckus over the flames.</p><p></p><p>“It looks like it’s…” he squinted through the frosted glass, “building a huge mound of snow in the center of the parking lot.”</p><p></p><p>Hammer turned back to the suspects. “All right, we need a roll call…” he looked around. “Wait, someone’s missing.”</p><p></p><p>There were a couple of loud bangs from the other room. The waitress screamed, “Look out! He’s got a gun!”</p><p></p><p>The overweight man in the suit appeared in the doorway of the donut shop, pointing a pistol in Hammer’s direction. </p><p></p><p>“I won’t let you meddle with our plans any longer,” he hissed. He raised the pistol. “Time to die!”</p><p></p><p>Hammer pointed both Glocks and fired. The man crumpled to the ground from the perfect shots, both to his head. He looked around. “Anyone else?”</p><p></p><p>The other patrons backed away, white-faced. </p><p></p><p>The waitress cleared her throat. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”</p><p></p><p>Hammer glared at the others. “Yeah. I don’t want anybody to move!” He pointed at Jim-Bean. “Keep an eye on them.”</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean took another puff of his cigarette, staring at the blurry shape of the thing outside. “Sure.”</p><p></p><p>The waitress ushered Hammer over to a booth and sat down. “You can’t trust any of them. Shepard was a distraction.”</p><p></p><p>“What?” asked Hammer. He craned his neck to look at the other patrons. Jim-Bean and Archive were discussing the snow globe they found. “What about them?”</p><p></p><p>The waitress had sharp, attractive features, made more scholarly-looking by the glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her arms, where they were visible, were well-muscled. Hammer assumed it was from holding trays.</p><p></p><p>“My name is Elizabeth Stride, and I’m actually a professor of history at the University of Toronto. A long time ago I was traveling to Vietnam when I met a Tcho-tcho tribe who worshipped a pantheon of strange pagan deities. After months of cautious study, the tribe finally allowed me to view one of their pagan rituals. On that fateful evening, something answered the savage cries of the tribesmen – something enormous, writhing, and powerful. Shub-Niggurath appeared before me in all its alien might and at that instant I got an insight into the true nature of the universe.”</p><p></p><p>Hammer put one of his pistols on the table. “Look, lady—“</p><p></p><p>“Listen to me!” hissed Stride. “That night I was initiated into a cult, and instructed to contact Tong Shugoran when I returned to Toronto. They eventually took me in and made me a member of the cult.”</p><p></p><p>Hammer blinked. “You set that fire, didn’t you?”</p><p></p><p>“I was trying to stop them.” She snuck a glance at the other patrons. They were all watching Jim-Bean and Archive intently. Jim-Bean was holding the snow globe and focusing on it. “I was instructed to contact Anton Zelazny and joined his group to keep an eye on a rival cult, the Secret Order of the Windwalker. I’ve been spying on them ever since.”</p><p></p><p>“So you’re saying everyone here is a cultist?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” said Stride. “And this was all a plot. There’s something special about the town of Willis. Zelazny was convinced he could call Ithaqua tonight. He summoned a Gnoph-keh to create the storm and drive everyone out. All the people who worked here left, so we slipped into the disguises of the staff. Zelazny said he needed five sacrifices…”</p><p></p><p>“But Zelazny’s dead,” said Hammer.</p><p></p><p>“Yes. Someone killed him. I think Ko was lured here as a scapegoat, to make it look like Tong Shugoran murdered Zelazny.”</p><p></p><p>Hammer nodded. “I didn’t get the impression Ko’s ever killed anyone, much less used one of those hand crossbows.”</p><p></p><p>“Exactly,” said Stride. “It doesn’t add up. One of the Order of the Windwalker murdered both Ko and Zelazny, and he wants to take over for himself.”</p><p></p><p>“Hammer,” Archive called from across the room. “I think you’d better get over here.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4559713, member: 3285"] [b]Cold War: Part 3 – Smoke ‘Em Out[/b] The magazine stand in one corner of the convenience store was blazing away. The flames spread quickly to one wall. “Fire extinguishers!” shouted Hammer. “Go!” They spread out, looking for fire extinguishers. A few seconds later, the extinguishers managed to stop the blaze before it became an inferno. By that time, the massacre that was happening outside had stopped. The White Shadows were all dead. Over the smell of smoke, there was a different odor—the sharp tang of gasoline in the air. “That fire wasn’t an accident,” said Hammer. He looked suspiciously at the other patrons. “All of you, I want you to line up along this wall. We’re going to question you individually. Everyone stays in my sight.” The other patrons and staff, wary of Hammer’s Glocks, did as they were told. Archive was torn between watching the thing outside and trying to understand what he was reading. “What’s that thing doing?” asked Jim-Bean, nonplussed by the ruckus over the flames. “It looks like it’s…” he squinted through the frosted glass, “building a huge mound of snow in the center of the parking lot.” Hammer turned back to the suspects. “All right, we need a roll call…” he looked around. “Wait, someone’s missing.” There were a couple of loud bangs from the other room. The waitress screamed, “Look out! He’s got a gun!” The overweight man in the suit appeared in the doorway of the donut shop, pointing a pistol in Hammer’s direction. “I won’t let you meddle with our plans any longer,” he hissed. He raised the pistol. “Time to die!” Hammer pointed both Glocks and fired. The man crumpled to the ground from the perfect shots, both to his head. He looked around. “Anyone else?” The other patrons backed away, white-faced. The waitress cleared her throat. “Can I speak with you for a moment?” Hammer glared at the others. “Yeah. I don’t want anybody to move!” He pointed at Jim-Bean. “Keep an eye on them.” Jim-Bean took another puff of his cigarette, staring at the blurry shape of the thing outside. “Sure.” The waitress ushered Hammer over to a booth and sat down. “You can’t trust any of them. Shepard was a distraction.” “What?” asked Hammer. He craned his neck to look at the other patrons. Jim-Bean and Archive were discussing the snow globe they found. “What about them?” The waitress had sharp, attractive features, made more scholarly-looking by the glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her arms, where they were visible, were well-muscled. Hammer assumed it was from holding trays. “My name is Elizabeth Stride, and I’m actually a professor of history at the University of Toronto. A long time ago I was traveling to Vietnam when I met a Tcho-tcho tribe who worshipped a pantheon of strange pagan deities. After months of cautious study, the tribe finally allowed me to view one of their pagan rituals. On that fateful evening, something answered the savage cries of the tribesmen – something enormous, writhing, and powerful. Shub-Niggurath appeared before me in all its alien might and at that instant I got an insight into the true nature of the universe.” Hammer put one of his pistols on the table. “Look, lady—“ “Listen to me!” hissed Stride. “That night I was initiated into a cult, and instructed to contact Tong Shugoran when I returned to Toronto. They eventually took me in and made me a member of the cult.” Hammer blinked. “You set that fire, didn’t you?” “I was trying to stop them.” She snuck a glance at the other patrons. They were all watching Jim-Bean and Archive intently. Jim-Bean was holding the snow globe and focusing on it. “I was instructed to contact Anton Zelazny and joined his group to keep an eye on a rival cult, the Secret Order of the Windwalker. I’ve been spying on them ever since.” “So you’re saying everyone here is a cultist?” “Yes,” said Stride. “And this was all a plot. There’s something special about the town of Willis. Zelazny was convinced he could call Ithaqua tonight. He summoned a Gnoph-keh to create the storm and drive everyone out. All the people who worked here left, so we slipped into the disguises of the staff. Zelazny said he needed five sacrifices…” “But Zelazny’s dead,” said Hammer. “Yes. Someone killed him. I think Ko was lured here as a scapegoat, to make it look like Tong Shugoran murdered Zelazny.” Hammer nodded. “I didn’t get the impression Ko’s ever killed anyone, much less used one of those hand crossbows.” “Exactly,” said Stride. “It doesn’t add up. One of the Order of the Windwalker murdered both Ko and Zelazny, and he wants to take over for himself.” “Hammer,” Archive called from across the room. “I think you’d better get over here.” [/QUOTE]
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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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