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Story Hour
Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4679489" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>See No Evil: Part 4 – Day Four</strong></p><p></p><p>Hammer called in on his cistron. “Jim-Bean, Hot Pants, Bhrunt’s on the move. I’m following.” He swore as he realized Archive wasn’t on the comm. He’d have to call him later to bring him up to date.</p><p></p><p>Bhrunt was taking steps not to be followed. He hopped from subway to taxi, and then to another taxi, to an address in Queens. And he never let go of his briefcase.</p><p></p><p>Hammer followed him to a condemned school building, the P. MacGregor Hayes School. Bhrunt paid the taxi driver, looked around to confirm he wasn’t followed, and made his way into the school’s former chemistry lab. The room, unlike the rest of the school, was sealed: all of the windows had bars and boards covering them, and the one door was steel-reinforced. </p><p></p><p>Hammer parked his car further down the street, out of sight, and snuck up to the entryway. He ducked behind a nearby dumpster as four young men, one carrying a shotgun, sauntered in.</p><p></p><p>Hammer had run enough missions to know that he was witnessing a drug deal. He let the men pass by through the steel door.</p><p></p><p>They had chosen a well-guarded location. Hammer thought about calling in backup, but he didn’t want to remove the other agents, all whom had been carefully placed in surveillance positions. It was too risky. </p><p></p><p>Hammer tested one of the planks over the window. It was loose. Good, just enough to …</p><p></p><p>Glass tinkled all around him. Hammer swore and ducked back to his position by the dumpster. </p><p></p><p>Footsteps. He covered himself with debris and smeared some dirt on his face.</p><p></p><p>The drug dealer with the shotgun, accompanied by another dealer with a semi-automatic pistol, began kicking over cans, searching for the source of the disturbance. Shotgun shoved garbage out of the way and Pistol covered him.</p><p></p><p>His dual Glocks carefully concealed, Hammer stumbled out into the open. “Will you shtop makin’ all that racket?” he bellowed, staggering out from behind the dumpster. “Ahm tryin’ tah SHLEEP here!”</p><p></p><p>The drug dealer rolled his eyes, pistol aimed squarely at Hammer’s chest. “It’s just a bum!” he shouted, presumably to the leader inside the high school.</p><p></p><p>Shotgun squinted at Hammer. “I know all the bums ‘round here. And you ain’t one of ‘em …”</p><p></p><p>Before he could react, Hammer spun back behind the dumpster, Glocks out.</p><p></p><p>“Pigs!” shouted pistol.</p><p></p><p>A shotgun blast rocked the dumpster, slamming into Hammer. He whirled out from behind covered and fired two carefully placed shots. </p><p></p><p>Shotgun and Pistol both dropped. They were perfect shoulder shots. Bad enough to drop them, but not enough to kill them. </p><p></p><p>Hammer rolled both men over and zip-tied their wrists. If the drug dealers thought he was a cop, so much the better. It might just save his cover.</p><p></p><p>Once Hammer was inside, it was clear he needn’t have worried. The remaining two drug dealers and Bhrunt had fled through an escape tunnel—formerly a maintenance corridor—that led to a small concrete shed on the school’s playground. </p><p></p><p>“I had an … incident following Bhrunt,” said Hammer over the comm. “Anyone see him?” After another second he repeated the same query to Archive.</p><p></p><p>“He’s at the hotel,” reported Archive. “What happened?”</p><p></p><p>“A drug deal,” said Hammer. “Did he say anything to Drinkwater?”</p><p></p><p>“Not a peep.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course not,” said Hammer. “Bhrunt doesn’t want to embarrass his companions. Drinkwater may be a racist moron, but even racist morons have standards.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4679489, member: 3285"] [b]See No Evil: Part 4 – Day Four[/b] Hammer called in on his cistron. “Jim-Bean, Hot Pants, Bhrunt’s on the move. I’m following.” He swore as he realized Archive wasn’t on the comm. He’d have to call him later to bring him up to date. Bhrunt was taking steps not to be followed. He hopped from subway to taxi, and then to another taxi, to an address in Queens. And he never let go of his briefcase. Hammer followed him to a condemned school building, the P. MacGregor Hayes School. Bhrunt paid the taxi driver, looked around to confirm he wasn’t followed, and made his way into the school’s former chemistry lab. The room, unlike the rest of the school, was sealed: all of the windows had bars and boards covering them, and the one door was steel-reinforced. Hammer parked his car further down the street, out of sight, and snuck up to the entryway. He ducked behind a nearby dumpster as four young men, one carrying a shotgun, sauntered in. Hammer had run enough missions to know that he was witnessing a drug deal. He let the men pass by through the steel door. They had chosen a well-guarded location. Hammer thought about calling in backup, but he didn’t want to remove the other agents, all whom had been carefully placed in surveillance positions. It was too risky. Hammer tested one of the planks over the window. It was loose. Good, just enough to … Glass tinkled all around him. Hammer swore and ducked back to his position by the dumpster. Footsteps. He covered himself with debris and smeared some dirt on his face. The drug dealer with the shotgun, accompanied by another dealer with a semi-automatic pistol, began kicking over cans, searching for the source of the disturbance. Shotgun shoved garbage out of the way and Pistol covered him. His dual Glocks carefully concealed, Hammer stumbled out into the open. “Will you shtop makin’ all that racket?” he bellowed, staggering out from behind the dumpster. “Ahm tryin’ tah SHLEEP here!” The drug dealer rolled his eyes, pistol aimed squarely at Hammer’s chest. “It’s just a bum!” he shouted, presumably to the leader inside the high school. Shotgun squinted at Hammer. “I know all the bums ‘round here. And you ain’t one of ‘em …” Before he could react, Hammer spun back behind the dumpster, Glocks out. “Pigs!” shouted pistol. A shotgun blast rocked the dumpster, slamming into Hammer. He whirled out from behind covered and fired two carefully placed shots. Shotgun and Pistol both dropped. They were perfect shoulder shots. Bad enough to drop them, but not enough to kill them. Hammer rolled both men over and zip-tied their wrists. If the drug dealers thought he was a cop, so much the better. It might just save his cover. Once Hammer was inside, it was clear he needn’t have worried. The remaining two drug dealers and Bhrunt had fled through an escape tunnel—formerly a maintenance corridor—that led to a small concrete shed on the school’s playground. “I had an … incident following Bhrunt,” said Hammer over the comm. “Anyone see him?” After another second he repeated the same query to Archive. “He’s at the hotel,” reported Archive. “What happened?” “A drug deal,” said Hammer. “Did he say anything to Drinkwater?” “Not a peep.” “Of course not,” said Hammer. “Bhrunt doesn’t want to embarrass his companions. Drinkwater may be a racist moron, but even racist morons have standards.” [/QUOTE]
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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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