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Tears in Hell (UPDATED OCTOBER 11th)
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<blockquote data-quote="Puppy Kicker" data-source="post: 1804715" data-attributes="member: 20284"><p><strong>Foreshadowing x2</strong></p><p></p><p><em>1:00 PM Sunday, July 18th</em></p><p><em>East Manhattan, New York</em></p><p></p><p>The man was hunched over a computer screen, piles of papers and newspaper clippings scattered around the small desk interspersed with fast food wrappers and crumpled up coffee cups. A fresh cup of midnight black coffee rested to the right of the monitor and the figure occasionally sipped it while he surfed. The light and noise of New York seeped in through dirty blinds, cars and their fumes, shouted insults and greetings, life.</p><p></p><p>The man pushed himself away from the computer and stood, glancing one last time at the website that had just loaded. Natural grace and a muscular frame belied the lethality of his demeanor. He stretched, rubbed his eyes, wandered to the kitchenette to refill the now empty coffee cup. The kitchenette was dirty and cluttered.</p><p></p><p>Before setting down the empty coffee cup, the man picked up the case lying next to it. A metal briefcase. His livelihood. He popped it open, out of habit more than necessity. The rifle was disassembled, immaculate, deadly. Had Charlton Heston seen it, he would have proclaimed “That needs to be illegal!”</p><p></p><p>But Charlton Heston was not there to see it, and if he had unexpectedly arrived there, someone would have been prying something from his cold dead hands shortly thereafter. Spence Ryland gently clicked the case shut, filled his coffee cup, and returned to the computer screen. He stood before it, reading the headline.</p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Suspect Arrested in McDonalds Shooting</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Newport News, VA – Armani Determan of New York </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">City has been arrested for the alleged murder…</span></p><p></p><p>Spence clicked the PRINT button and dressed himself while he waited for the printout to arrive. Slacks, dress shirt, shoulder holster (concealed), and a sport coat. Spence grabbed the printout and headed for the door, stopping long enough to toss his rifle into a duffle. “Time to pay the piper, Mr. Determan.” The door slammed shut on the squalid safehouse.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">---</p><p></p><p><em>5:00 PM Sunday, July 18th</em></p><p><em>Newport News, Virginia</em></p><p></p><p>“What the hell took you chicks so damn long?” greeted Meadow and Rebecca as the walked into the motel room. Armani and Devin sat at the table, scowling at the ladies.</p><p></p><p>“It was a very… very…” Rebecca answered.</p><p></p><p>“…very ….horribly…” Meadow continued.</p><p></p><p>“…amazingly long day.” Rebecca finished.</p><p></p><p>“So don’t flick us any crap, Armani.” Meadow looked around. “Where’s Quin at, by the way?”</p><p></p><p>Devin dropped his scowl. “He went to grab some food. Said it would be nice for the ladies to have something to eat when they got back.”</p><p></p><p>"He probably just wants sex," Meadow mumbled, mostly under her breath.</p><p></p><p>Rebecca nodded, but smiled a bit. “Probably. But I AM hungry.”</p><p></p><p>There was a quick knock at the door, then it opened suddenly and Quin staggered in. His arms were full of pizza, sandwiches and Chinese food. “I come…” He staggered over to the table and emptied his arms. “…bearing gifts of munchies.”</p><p></p><p>“You’re such a…” Meadow began.</p><p></p><p>“…SWEETHEART!” Completed Rebecca. “Thank you SO much, Quin. I was starving!”</p><p></p><p>After deflecting a grumpy look from Meadow, Rebecca began to tell of their misadventure at the hospital, or the cop, of Betty’s death, and of Betty’s belongings.</p><p></p><p>“They gave us some of her clothes, of course. Poor girl really could have dressed better. Some vertical stripes…”</p><p></p><p>“Damn, chick. Get to the f***in’ point!”</p><p></p><p>Rebecca scowled at Armani, then continued. “Well anyway, some clothes of hers. But we also got the keys to her apartment and… something else. Guess it’s a mailbox.”</p><p></p><p>“So … what.” Said Devin. “So we have some keys belonging to a dead girl we didn’t even know. Should we just go breaking and entering?”</p><p></p><p>“It wouldn’t be the first time,” said Meadow, with a grin.</p><p></p><p>“And we have the keys, so really it’s just unlocking and entering. I’m almost CERTAIN that’s not nearly as illegal. Aren’t I right, Armani?” Rebecca said, sweetly.</p><p></p><p>“What? How should I? ******in’ *** **** *** * sonofa **** *** ****” Armani trailed off in a stream of curses.</p><p></p><p>“She might have something that can help us figure all this out. I mean, she was involved it seems.”</p><p></p><p>“Sure, Becca. She might. And she might not. And someone might get shot in the head.” Devin said. “Unless she had the bear, I don’t really feel like putting my life on the line again.” He glanced around. “Anybody think she had it?”</p><p></p><p>Quin, Becca, and Meadow exchanged surreptitious glances. “Umm..” Rebecca began. “It’s certainly possible. And no harm in checking.”</p><p></p><p>“Fine, let’s go check it out. You know where she lived?”</p><p></p><p>Rebecca nodded. “I got the address from the nice receptionist. It’s not too far from here.” Rebecca licked some sesame chicken off a Passion Strawberry fingernail and stood. “Well let’s all go then.” The rest got up to go, except Armani.</p><p></p><p>“I’m staying here. I’m sick of running around like a chicken with its legs cut off.”</p><p></p><p>“Fine, we’ll see you when we get back.” Meadow said.</p><p></p><p>“…legs cut…?” Quin whispered.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, just let him stay here and make up sayings.” Meadow said. “It’s not like we’re going to need his particular breed of diplomacy anyway.”</p><p></p><p>“Probably right,” said Rebecca. “Shouldn’t need to beat anyone up in the next half hour.”</p><p></p><p>Devin closed the door behind him and they headed for the car. “I sure hope we don’t need him…”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Puppy Kicker, post: 1804715, member: 20284"] [b]Foreshadowing x2[/b] [I]1:00 PM Sunday, July 18th East Manhattan, New York[/I] The man was hunched over a computer screen, piles of papers and newspaper clippings scattered around the small desk interspersed with fast food wrappers and crumpled up coffee cups. A fresh cup of midnight black coffee rested to the right of the monitor and the figure occasionally sipped it while he surfed. The light and noise of New York seeped in through dirty blinds, cars and their fumes, shouted insults and greetings, life. The man pushed himself away from the computer and stood, glancing one last time at the website that had just loaded. Natural grace and a muscular frame belied the lethality of his demeanor. He stretched, rubbed his eyes, wandered to the kitchenette to refill the now empty coffee cup. The kitchenette was dirty and cluttered. Before setting down the empty coffee cup, the man picked up the case lying next to it. A metal briefcase. His livelihood. He popped it open, out of habit more than necessity. The rifle was disassembled, immaculate, deadly. Had Charlton Heston seen it, he would have proclaimed “That needs to be illegal!” But Charlton Heston was not there to see it, and if he had unexpectedly arrived there, someone would have been prying something from his cold dead hands shortly thereafter. Spence Ryland gently clicked the case shut, filled his coffee cup, and returned to the computer screen. He stood before it, reading the headline. [FONT=Courier New]Suspect Arrested in McDonalds Shooting Newport News, VA – Armani Determan of New York City has been arrested for the alleged murder…[/FONT] Spence clicked the PRINT button and dressed himself while he waited for the printout to arrive. Slacks, dress shirt, shoulder holster (concealed), and a sport coat. Spence grabbed the printout and headed for the door, stopping long enough to toss his rifle into a duffle. “Time to pay the piper, Mr. Determan.” The door slammed shut on the squalid safehouse. [CENTER]---[/CENTER] [I]5:00 PM Sunday, July 18th Newport News, Virginia[/I] “What the hell took you chicks so damn long?” greeted Meadow and Rebecca as the walked into the motel room. Armani and Devin sat at the table, scowling at the ladies. “It was a very… very…” Rebecca answered. “…very ….horribly…” Meadow continued. “…amazingly long day.” Rebecca finished. “So don’t flick us any crap, Armani.” Meadow looked around. “Where’s Quin at, by the way?” Devin dropped his scowl. “He went to grab some food. Said it would be nice for the ladies to have something to eat when they got back.” "He probably just wants sex," Meadow mumbled, mostly under her breath. Rebecca nodded, but smiled a bit. “Probably. But I AM hungry.” There was a quick knock at the door, then it opened suddenly and Quin staggered in. His arms were full of pizza, sandwiches and Chinese food. “I come…” He staggered over to the table and emptied his arms. “…bearing gifts of munchies.” “You’re such a…” Meadow began. “…SWEETHEART!” Completed Rebecca. “Thank you SO much, Quin. I was starving!” After deflecting a grumpy look from Meadow, Rebecca began to tell of their misadventure at the hospital, or the cop, of Betty’s death, and of Betty’s belongings. “They gave us some of her clothes, of course. Poor girl really could have dressed better. Some vertical stripes…” “Damn, chick. Get to the f***in’ point!” Rebecca scowled at Armani, then continued. “Well anyway, some clothes of hers. But we also got the keys to her apartment and… something else. Guess it’s a mailbox.” “So … what.” Said Devin. “So we have some keys belonging to a dead girl we didn’t even know. Should we just go breaking and entering?” “It wouldn’t be the first time,” said Meadow, with a grin. “And we have the keys, so really it’s just unlocking and entering. I’m almost CERTAIN that’s not nearly as illegal. Aren’t I right, Armani?” Rebecca said, sweetly. “What? How should I? ******in’ *** **** *** * sonofa **** *** ****” Armani trailed off in a stream of curses. “She might have something that can help us figure all this out. I mean, she was involved it seems.” “Sure, Becca. She might. And she might not. And someone might get shot in the head.” Devin said. “Unless she had the bear, I don’t really feel like putting my life on the line again.” He glanced around. “Anybody think she had it?” Quin, Becca, and Meadow exchanged surreptitious glances. “Umm..” Rebecca began. “It’s certainly possible. And no harm in checking.” “Fine, let’s go check it out. You know where she lived?” Rebecca nodded. “I got the address from the nice receptionist. It’s not too far from here.” Rebecca licked some sesame chicken off a Passion Strawberry fingernail and stood. “Well let’s all go then.” The rest got up to go, except Armani. “I’m staying here. I’m sick of running around like a chicken with its legs cut off.” “Fine, we’ll see you when we get back.” Meadow said. “…legs cut…?” Quin whispered. “Oh, just let him stay here and make up sayings.” Meadow said. “It’s not like we’re going to need his particular breed of diplomacy anyway.” “Probably right,” said Rebecca. “Shouldn’t need to beat anyone up in the next half hour.” Devin closed the door behind him and they headed for the car. “I sure hope we don’t need him…” [/QUOTE]
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