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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4171387" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Thin Jack: Prologue</strong></p><p></p><p>Drake sat across from Blade, tapping a pen on the scratched wood. Drake’s desk looked as if it had been thrown out a window, dragged down the street, and then after it had broken apart, put back together in his office. Staring at him, Blade was suddenly conscious of Drake’s age. When Drake stood, he towered. But sitting, he looked like a tired, old man.</p><p></p><p>To Blade’s surprise, he didn’t immediately get a reprimand. “You look like s***t. How’s your pain?” he asked with his thick Scottish accent.</p><p></p><p>Blade swallowed. “I’m fine,” was all he said.</p><p></p><p>He wasn’t fine. Since that…THING had bitten him, the wounds never healed. They oozed all the time. He had to take anticoagulants to stop the bleeding, and that only slowed it to a trickle. He changed his dressing every night.</p><p></p><p>Drake was staring at him in an odd way. “They give you any painkillers?” </p><p></p><p>Blade shook his head. “Nope.” </p><p></p><p>The truth was that the Aquarius boys refused to give him anything strong enough to dull the pain. They claimed another agent who had suffered a similar wound from a similar “preternatural entity” had become addicted.</p><p></p><p>Drake pulled on the handle of an ill-fitting drawer. It shrieked as he yanked it open. After pawing through its contents for a moment, he tossed a green-colored bottle with a white cap in front of him. “Take those. It’ll help.”</p><p></p><p>Blade just stared at the pills. “I’m fine,” he repeated. Alcohol was his old friend and new painkiller. </p><p></p><p>“Fine, suit yourself.” Drake snatched the pills back and chucked them in the drawer. “But this behavior…this running off to handle missions because some @$$hole told you in a dream, it stops now. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you deleted files from a mission. You realize that you can be disavowed?”</p><p></p><p>Blade wasn’t sure what he meant. But he knew that being disavowed was bad. “Yeah,” he said.</p><p></p><p>“Good. You used to be rock solid, Blade. You want to tell me what happened?”</p><p></p><p>“I was protecting my team,” was all Blade was willing to say. He was afraid to share any information at all about Y’golonac. </p><p></p><p>Drake leaned back in his chair. “That’s it?”</p><p></p><p>“That’s it,” he replied. Blade didn’t know how it worked and didn’t need to. All he knew was that Y’golonac spread like some kind of mental contagion. With Blacknet, it could spread around the world in the seconds. </p><p></p><p>It was better this way. The less Majestic-12 knew about Y’golonac, the better. </p><p></p><p>“Fine,” said Drake. “I’m going to throw you a bone. This is your chance to get back on track and impress the Twelve. I had to go to bat for your sorry ass, so don’t screw this one up.”</p><p></p><p>Blade straightened. “Okay.”</p><p></p><p>Drake smirked. “Good.” He tapped the laptop on his desk and Blade’s cistron chirped. “I’m making you mission leader on this one. I downloaded it to your cistron. You can thank me later. Dismissed.”</p><p></p><p>Blade left. He glanced down at his cistron. It was a movie poster.</p><p></p><p>“CURSED OF THE UNDEAD,” it read. “STARRING: CHRISTINE DEE AND ALLEN ROBERTS.”</p><p></p><p>Blade sighed.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4171387, member: 3285"] [b]Thin Jack: Prologue[/b] Drake sat across from Blade, tapping a pen on the scratched wood. Drake’s desk looked as if it had been thrown out a window, dragged down the street, and then after it had broken apart, put back together in his office. Staring at him, Blade was suddenly conscious of Drake’s age. When Drake stood, he towered. But sitting, he looked like a tired, old man. To Blade’s surprise, he didn’t immediately get a reprimand. “You look like s***t. How’s your pain?” he asked with his thick Scottish accent. Blade swallowed. “I’m fine,” was all he said. He wasn’t fine. Since that…THING had bitten him, the wounds never healed. They oozed all the time. He had to take anticoagulants to stop the bleeding, and that only slowed it to a trickle. He changed his dressing every night. Drake was staring at him in an odd way. “They give you any painkillers?” Blade shook his head. “Nope.” The truth was that the Aquarius boys refused to give him anything strong enough to dull the pain. They claimed another agent who had suffered a similar wound from a similar “preternatural entity” had become addicted. Drake pulled on the handle of an ill-fitting drawer. It shrieked as he yanked it open. After pawing through its contents for a moment, he tossed a green-colored bottle with a white cap in front of him. “Take those. It’ll help.” Blade just stared at the pills. “I’m fine,” he repeated. Alcohol was his old friend and new painkiller. “Fine, suit yourself.” Drake snatched the pills back and chucked them in the drawer. “But this behavior…this running off to handle missions because some @$$hole told you in a dream, it stops now. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you deleted files from a mission. You realize that you can be disavowed?” Blade wasn’t sure what he meant. But he knew that being disavowed was bad. “Yeah,” he said. “Good. You used to be rock solid, Blade. You want to tell me what happened?” “I was protecting my team,” was all Blade was willing to say. He was afraid to share any information at all about Y’golonac. Drake leaned back in his chair. “That’s it?” “That’s it,” he replied. Blade didn’t know how it worked and didn’t need to. All he knew was that Y’golonac spread like some kind of mental contagion. With Blacknet, it could spread around the world in the seconds. It was better this way. The less Majestic-12 knew about Y’golonac, the better. “Fine,” said Drake. “I’m going to throw you a bone. This is your chance to get back on track and impress the Twelve. I had to go to bat for your sorry ass, so don’t screw this one up.” Blade straightened. “Okay.” Drake smirked. “Good.” He tapped the laptop on his desk and Blade’s cistron chirped. “I’m making you mission leader on this one. I downloaded it to your cistron. You can thank me later. Dismissed.” Blade left. He glanced down at his cistron. It was a movie poster. “CURSED OF THE UNDEAD,” it read. “STARRING: CHRISTINE DEE AND ALLEN ROBERTS.” Blade sighed. [/QUOTE]
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