Ari smiles weakly. "Julia, where did you park the car?"
[George can teleport from the bar to the airport?]
[Uh oh. I'll answer appropriately IF I get to the bar]
[QUOTE=kilerabv;49715934][George can teleport from the bar to the airport?][/QUOTE]
[oh SHIT]
"Nice to meet you Dave, I'm Julia." She turns to Ari, "Right outside." [I'm gunna be gone for two hours for class I'll be back by then]
Voronov heads into the back, then returns after a little bit.
"Got morphine shots." she says. She walks over and sticks Frank with one, then sticks Rodney with another before slipping the rest into a pouch on her belt.
Dave smiles wildly, in an attempt not to seem intimidating. Everything seemed to be going pretty good, for now.
After hearing noise coming from the phone, he was suddenly reminded of his phone call.
"Hello??" As he quickly puts the phone to his ear
[I'm going for today. My objective is to possibly reach the drinking establishment, I'm in your hands now]
[QUOTE]Got morphine shots.[/QUOTE]
"Wha-AH" Frank felt the syringe go in and a few seconds later, the pain started to go numb.
[QUOTE][video=youtube;Bl4dEAtxo0M]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bl4dEAtxo0M[/video][/QUOTE]
"I'll be right back." Voronov says, before walking into the back. She heads out the back door, then across the adjacent street to a payphone. She slips a few quarters into the phone, punches in a number, then looks around to see if she had been followed.
A few moments later, Voronov asks "What's the best way to the train station?" A smooth voice, but still very Russian replies. "You could walk, but it's about ten blocks." "That's fine. I could use the exercise."
"Hello, Voronov. I trust you had a nice time on the way to Sanskirt?" said the voice, after a brief pause. "Boring, really. But it did get a bit lively just now. A group of thugs working for a local guy named Kellog tried to kill me and the rest of the group." said Voronov, looking around.
"I just heard about that. So his name is Kellog? Like that American cereal brand?"
"Indeed. Apparently he's got a price on his head. We've been tasked to collect."
"Wonderful. But remember your true objective, Voronov."
"I know."
"Good girl. Did you get your weapon cache before you got on the boat?"
"I did. Dragunov, RPKS, and AKM. Got anything else coming for me?"
"There's a small shed near the end of the dock across the street to you. White, tin roof. Lock on the door. Inside, supply drop. Besides that, there will be a few more supply caches set up every so often to keep you set on ammo."
"Thank you, Dimitri."
"You're welcome. Keep in touch."
The phone goes dead, and Voronov hangs it up. She looks around, towards the end of the dock. There's the shed. After a brief walk, she arrives at it, and looks at the door. Yep. Locked, but looks breakable. She kicks the lock a few times, and it finally breaks off. She slowly opens the door. Inside, in the middle of the floor, was a small crate. Russian writing adorned the side of it, along with a Soviet crest. Voronov smiles.
Minutes later, she's back at the bar. Restocked on ammo, and ready to go. She gives Rodney a few more magazines for his AKM, which she had picked up and set on the table next to him, before heading upstairs to the shared bedroom.
As Voronov returns to the bar, she hands out some more magazines to Rodney before heading towards the shared bedroom.
Before she could sit down and breathe after a tense day, the sound of a knife being sharpened could be heard. In lne of the corner beds was Viktor, with his eyes fixed on Voronov.
"A thing they taught us in the Spetsnaz is that when your teammates have agendas of their own, missions could go sideways. Fast." He continued to sharpen the knife with routine precision while maintaining his watch on Voronov.
"So tell me [i]tovarisch[/i], what is your agenda?"
She glances over at Viktor, and locks eyes with him.
"Agenda? Why would I have an agenda? I'm just here for the money." she says. She begins to reload the magazines for her RPKS. "It'll be much easier to get said money if everyone is still alive."
"So you're telling me you're out in city for thirth minutes and when you return you have pristine new equipment with Soviet markings all over it with you? Please tovarisch, I might not be active anymore but my heart will always belong to Soviet."
He stood up and sheated his knife. "How can I help?" Asked the man still clad in military gear with a rifle in hand.
She raises an eyebrow. Observant. Most would have overlooked the ammo and gear as if she had simply just brought it with her in her bag. She wondered if he had noticed the PB she had used earlier. Not a standard in the Red Army.
"What I tell you over the next few minutes remains between us. Understood?" she says, her tone as serious as her gaze.
Viktor nodded. "Understood." He positioned himself next to her bed so he could hear what Voronov had to say while keeping an eye on the staircase.
"My name is Major Svetlana Voronov. Operative of the Komitet gosudarstvennoy bezopasnosti (KGB). I've been tasked with coming to Sanskirt, joining the Bay Dogs, and locating a target here in Thailand. I'm trying to maintain my cover, in addition to building relations with the other members of the Bay Dogs so that it might be easier to complete my mission." Voronov explains.
She looks at Viktor for a moment. "Ever heard of the soldier nicknamed 'Koschei'? Or perhaps 'The Sickle'? I know stuff like that likes to circulate through the Red Army and the Spetsnaz." He must have heard of her at least once before.
Upon hearing the name sickle Viktor's eyes widened for a split-second before returning to normal. "I've heard the name before, da."
She smiles. "Svetlana 'The Sickle' Voronov, daughter of Isaak Voronov, at your service."
'The Sickle' was a nickname she had earned around WW2, and continued to bear afterwards until the 1970s. She had earned it due to the manner in which some of her kills and assassinations had occurred, Voronov using a hand scythe to cleave men to pieces or behead them. German soldiers, Colombians, Capitalist Cubans, CIA, South Vietnamese, U.S. Marines, all felt the taste of the sharp steel blade. And there were enough bodies to earn her an infamous reputation in Russia, as well as in various parts of the world.
"So the Sickle is real then. It is a pleasure to meet one of Soviet's best." Said Viktor with renewed enthusiasm.
"If KGB has sent you here to kill target I can only assume you would appreciate some help from another soldier. In any case, you don't need to tell me any details. Let me know when you need my assistance."
With that said Viktor left the room and went for the main bar room, checking in on Frank and Rodney.
Voronov finishes her work refilling her magazines before slipping them into her pouches on her belt and returning downstairs. Hopefully Viktor is trustworthy enough to keep this information to himself. Otherwise, he'll be another soldier she's cut down.
AND HIS NAME IS JOHN CENA!
Name: John Felix Anthony Cena
Appearance(optional):
[IMG]http://www.pwpix.net/wp/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/john-cena-28404213.jpg[/IMG]
Date Of Birth: April 23, 1977
Preferred Weapons: Fists
Special Skills: Muscles
Profession: Professional wrestler, rapper and actor.
Nationality: Italian-American
Biography: John Felix Anthony Cena (In short, John Cena) was born April 23, 1977, in West Newbury, Massachusetts. Calling himself "The Prototype," he captured the UPW title in 2000. In 2001 he signed a contract to work at Ohio Valley Wrestling. He captured the OVW heavyweight title in February 2002, then made his WWE debut that June. Two years later, he took the United States Championship. Since then he has notched many wins and titles.
After many Slammy Awards, John Felix Anthony Cena wants to prove himself he's the best wrestler on the universe.
THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THE UNDERTAKER TOLD JOHN CENA!
[by the time the RP takes place, he's not even 10]
[ I won't be able to RP for the next few days, as I am going away for the weekend. Feel free to use Rodney as an NPC. ]
[QUOTE=BiggotPlayer;49722767]AND HIS NAME IS JOHN CENA![/QUOTE]
[Uh, no]
Luke Bloom called in someone through the phone. "Who's this?" Luke asked.
[What, not Hogan? Get out of here]
[Might need to NPC Dave so Julia, Ari, and Dave can get back to the bar.]
[QUOTE=doomevil;49723010][Uh, no]
Luke Bloom called in someone through the phone. "Who's this?" Luke asked.[/QUOTE]
Finally an answer. Not knowing what sort of man was at the other end of the line, Dave played it safe
"My name is Dave. Jeff India gave me this number. Said some jobs were on the line. Who am I talking to?"
Dave started drawing from his cigar again, this time a bit more nervously. His eyes were focused on the payphone, almost paying no mind to his newfound acquaintances
"You're talking to Spade's right hand man. I work for Bay Dogs aka OBT. We're in a bit of a mess here, some dumbasses tried to shoot up our establishment." Luke bluntly said while looking at the clock.
Spade.
Bingo.
Jeff you glorious bastard.
"Where is this establishment you speak of? I have a feeling you could use someone like me right now, heheh."
As Luke talked on the phone inside his office, Viktor took up position in the main entrance to overlook the street. Not much activity could be seen save for a few street kids going through the belongings of the dead thugs.
Viktor scared them off as he went out with his rifle ready in hand. "Get out here! This is no place for kids to be!"
Having scared off the kids he went through the bodies himself.
A few minutes later he stood infront of Luke's desk. The wooden desk protested as a small pile of guns a d assorted ammunition was dropped ontop of it.
"Spares." Said Viktor before returning to his lookout spot.
Ari tapped Dave on the shoulder. "Hey, want a ride into the city?"
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