It was five past midnight before Wendell had the opportunity to stop and check his phone. By that point, he was heavily burdened with the equipment he'd picked from the bodies of the gangsters who were everywhere inside this building. Sinking into a corner, he went about his routine: checking the accounts, following up on the CrowNet posts, checking the bounties...
He saw there something that brought him back to his feet. Bounties. He'd never seen the bounty list so full in fact... and these were no small bounties, they were enormous. Furthermore, he had never heard of most of these vampires. There had to be some kind of error; probably with his phone.
An hour and two dozen phone calls later, he'd come to several conclusions: first, that he wasn't the only one seeing this list, and second, that some of these (at least) vampires existed. No one knew who they belonged to, but there were a couple of reported sightings on various cameras. By all accounts, these were rogue vampires: turned and left to their own devices? Slowly, a second possibility began to form in Wendell's sometimes-paranoid mind: perhaps the plot was more sinister... perhaps they were turned for exactly this purpose.
In any case, these were vampires that had to be put down. Immediately.
Unfortunately, there was a third conclusion that he had come to in his calls: virtually everyone was out. Tytonidae, independent hunters, all the unusual suspects... they were all busy. He didn't need any guesses as to why. He started collecting names from his contacts: determining who was already being pursued among who had recently been seen. He finally settled on a target... Maxwell Abbott. Male. White. Thirties. Lawyer. Cliché lawyer appearance. It was a good target... if the target was as active as the memories being reported to him suggested, then Wendell might have some contacts who knew which firm this one worked for. It was a place to start.
It was curious though: telepaths were in their heads, the City Alert wasn't red... what events were taking place that were worth twenty-grand a head? How were these things going unnoticed? There were two possibilities: first, that the Anarchists were up to something huge. Crow generally saw things that the rest of them didn't: Crow was, simply put, a better telepath than any he knew. The second was that the Crow had been sabotaged. What if someone could sabotage the Crow?
If so, it could mean the end of everything he'd ever known as a vampire.
Wendell had never been one to deal in "what ifs"... he acted on what he knew until he learned otherwise. The alternative was inaction. With all his usual contacts indisposed, and the likelihood of a solo hunt not being productive, it was time to improvise. He dug deep in his list of contacts, and pressed the little green phone icon.
It rang twice, and then picked up. "It's me," he growled into the receiver. He didn't like to use his name on the phone, but his voice was generally distinguishable enough that he didn't have to. "I'm going hunting. You want in?"
[tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
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Wendigo
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[tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
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Day
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Day’s phone vibrated. That was actually an uncommon occurrence, apart from Tameka and Ruth, he didn’t get many calls. And he really wasn’t in the mood to talk. However, when Tameka called, he never talked, he only listened. So when he looked at the number expecting it to be Tameka, he was surprised to see it was Wendell.
He answered the phone, “Day.” A pause, and he slowly smiled, “Sure. The usual place?” Another pause, then, “See you in thirty.” He closed the connection and put the phone away.
Day rubbed his hands together, it had been too damn long since he had been on an honest to goodness hunt. Yea, he had been dispatching zombies and ancients left and right, hell he had even killed a few hunters. But that was just training. It really didn’t take that much effort. In fact it was getting a bit boring. As a human, he had killed as a means to an end. As a job. But those jobs required planning, insight, tracking, studying, and timing. He missed that. Now, what he was doing was just, target practice.
But now, Wendell was hunting. Hell, Day did not envy Wendell’s quarry. Wendell was one cold *** ********, and when his sites were set on something, he did not back down until he had it.. or it was dead. This was the first time the invitation had extended to him, and he wasn’t about to give up the opportunity to see Wendell in action, and get a bit of action for himself. He also figured this would be an opportune time to learn a bit more about, what the hell he was training for. He knew a war of ‘sorts’ was coming, and that had been enough information at the time. But now his curiosity had grown as had his skills, and he was ready for a more prominent role in Wendell’s plans.
Day made a stop at his room rental, picked up more ammo and a couple of extra magazines, before heading off to the transit station. He hopped the transit to Bullwood, and headed to Groom Industries. As he entered, he made note of the different camera’s that were covering every square inch of the place. He appreciated it when a business took security seriously, tended to make his job easier, when he was tracking culprits. He headed to the usual meeting room, knocked once, and entered.
“Boss.”
He answered the phone, “Day.” A pause, and he slowly smiled, “Sure. The usual place?” Another pause, then, “See you in thirty.” He closed the connection and put the phone away.
Day rubbed his hands together, it had been too damn long since he had been on an honest to goodness hunt. Yea, he had been dispatching zombies and ancients left and right, hell he had even killed a few hunters. But that was just training. It really didn’t take that much effort. In fact it was getting a bit boring. As a human, he had killed as a means to an end. As a job. But those jobs required planning, insight, tracking, studying, and timing. He missed that. Now, what he was doing was just, target practice.
But now, Wendell was hunting. Hell, Day did not envy Wendell’s quarry. Wendell was one cold *** ********, and when his sites were set on something, he did not back down until he had it.. or it was dead. This was the first time the invitation had extended to him, and he wasn’t about to give up the opportunity to see Wendell in action, and get a bit of action for himself. He also figured this would be an opportune time to learn a bit more about, what the hell he was training for. He knew a war of ‘sorts’ was coming, and that had been enough information at the time. But now his curiosity had grown as had his skills, and he was ready for a more prominent role in Wendell’s plans.
Day made a stop at his room rental, picked up more ammo and a couple of extra magazines, before heading off to the transit station. He hopped the transit to Bullwood, and headed to Groom Industries. As he entered, he made note of the different camera’s that were covering every square inch of the place. He appreciated it when a business took security seriously, tended to make his job easier, when he was tracking culprits. He headed to the usual meeting room, knocked once, and entered.
“Boss.”
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Wendigo
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Wendell seldom organized hunts. Even his last "leadership" role -- putting away a particularly damaged Blood Thief who he'd stumbled on in the streets -- was more a spur-of-the-moment event than a genuine hunt. Now charged with bringing down a rogue vampire, he had prepared (perhaps over-prepared) one of his offices to the task. A variety of computers had been set up on the extra desks along the wall, and what little he knew about the target was displayed throughout the room.
He saw Day pass by one of the cameras he'd set up; plenty of them were dummies, but enough worked to allow him to keep an eye on the place. He'd seen his childe in action only a couple of times, but he had confidence in the fledgling's abilities. The man had refused Wendell's help at every offer: money, shelter, gear... all rejected out of hand. Inwardly, Wendell was not sure if he was pleased or not. True, the rejection would force Day to learn his skills the hard way... it might make him a better fighter in the end. Wendell hadn't been offered charity by Grigori; would he have taken it were it offered? Probably not. Not out of pride, of course, but a desire to avoid ties. Even if it slowed things down, Wendell could respect that drive for independence.
"Boss," Day had said. An oddity given the apparent goal of independence.
"Still Wendell," he said, echoing words he'd already said before. He wasn't displeased by the title, or even that the previous instruction had been ignored, but it was a necessary reminder: the thing that made Day a good candidate for siring was that Wendell saw him as a potential equal. He wondered if he should say any of that aloud, but now wasn't the time. "Crow's put twenty grand for this one." He gestured to a monitor displaying Maxwell's face. "Whole group actually. Don't know what they're up to, but it's not us-friendly."
He seated himself and turned toward the nearest computer. "Still tracking," he added. "Waiting on others. Get yourself caught up."
He saw Day pass by one of the cameras he'd set up; plenty of them were dummies, but enough worked to allow him to keep an eye on the place. He'd seen his childe in action only a couple of times, but he had confidence in the fledgling's abilities. The man had refused Wendell's help at every offer: money, shelter, gear... all rejected out of hand. Inwardly, Wendell was not sure if he was pleased or not. True, the rejection would force Day to learn his skills the hard way... it might make him a better fighter in the end. Wendell hadn't been offered charity by Grigori; would he have taken it were it offered? Probably not. Not out of pride, of course, but a desire to avoid ties. Even if it slowed things down, Wendell could respect that drive for independence.
"Boss," Day had said. An oddity given the apparent goal of independence.
"Still Wendell," he said, echoing words he'd already said before. He wasn't displeased by the title, or even that the previous instruction had been ignored, but it was a necessary reminder: the thing that made Day a good candidate for siring was that Wendell saw him as a potential equal. He wondered if he should say any of that aloud, but now wasn't the time. "Crow's put twenty grand for this one." He gestured to a monitor displaying Maxwell's face. "Whole group actually. Don't know what they're up to, but it's not us-friendly."
He seated himself and turned toward the nearest computer. "Still tracking," he added. "Waiting on others. Get yourself caught up."
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Day
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Day had been in an affable, easy going mood, until Wendell said ‘twenty grand’. That definitely caught his interest. His previous occupation had been ‘mercenary’ which, let’s face it was another name for ‘bounty hunter’. Now however, that was more true than ever before. This ‘new’ life of his came with conditions. Conditions that were explained, enforced, and rammed into him, before he was given the option of joining. Day would be able to put his past experiences into play.
Day settled at the computer station and started reading. A twenty grand bounty on one person, on the crownet, that was hellaciously high! What the hell had they done? No wonder Wendell wanted him put down. Hell, he had never seen a bounty that high. truth be told he didn’t check the bounties that often. Only every so often when he thought he had compromised something. But even at his ‘very worst’, Day hadn’t amassed a twenty grand bounty. Hell .. the highest bounty he had ever amassed was $540.00.
What the hell had the lawyer/solicitor Abbot done... to go from nothing to twenty grand in less than twenty-four hours? Day opened another screen. The City alert had not risen. Curious and curiouser. A twenty grand bounty was not something to sneeze at. A twenty grand bounty meant they fucked up .. and fucked up royally. But what precisely, equaled a twenty grand bounty?
Was it legit? Just two day before he had checked the bounty list and listed some auctions.. and now .. there were multiple twenty grand bounties? ****. Questioning the ‘powers’ never worked. Because when you started to show your unease, they killed you off. So yea, Day wasn't sure this bounty was true. But he wasn’t going to question ****. IF the crow was wrong.. it was the crow’s fault. And he, and Wendell, would be doing business as conveyed on the Crownet. Surreptitiously Day screen printed the twenty grand bounty of Abbot and made sure the file would be timestamped.
Sure Wendell may have done this already, but a backup was never frowned upon. Day then started looking up information on this guy ‘Maxwell Abbott”. There was nothing in this guy's background that redeemed him in Day’s eyes. He was a bloody ambulance chaser. He was small ****. It had to be his connection to a higher level player that upped his bounty. So Day spent the next few hours, reading this ‘lawyers’ case transcripts. If there was anything that broke the masquerade in those transcripts he should be able to catch it.
Day settled at the computer station and started reading. A twenty grand bounty on one person, on the crownet, that was hellaciously high! What the hell had they done? No wonder Wendell wanted him put down. Hell, he had never seen a bounty that high. truth be told he didn’t check the bounties that often. Only every so often when he thought he had compromised something. But even at his ‘very worst’, Day hadn’t amassed a twenty grand bounty. Hell .. the highest bounty he had ever amassed was $540.00.
What the hell had the lawyer/solicitor Abbot done... to go from nothing to twenty grand in less than twenty-four hours? Day opened another screen. The City alert had not risen. Curious and curiouser. A twenty grand bounty was not something to sneeze at. A twenty grand bounty meant they fucked up .. and fucked up royally. But what precisely, equaled a twenty grand bounty?
Was it legit? Just two day before he had checked the bounty list and listed some auctions.. and now .. there were multiple twenty grand bounties? ****. Questioning the ‘powers’ never worked. Because when you started to show your unease, they killed you off. So yea, Day wasn't sure this bounty was true. But he wasn’t going to question ****. IF the crow was wrong.. it was the crow’s fault. And he, and Wendell, would be doing business as conveyed on the Crownet. Surreptitiously Day screen printed the twenty grand bounty of Abbot and made sure the file would be timestamped.
Sure Wendell may have done this already, but a backup was never frowned upon. Day then started looking up information on this guy ‘Maxwell Abbott”. There was nothing in this guy's background that redeemed him in Day’s eyes. He was a bloody ambulance chaser. He was small ****. It had to be his connection to a higher level player that upped his bounty. So Day spent the next few hours, reading this ‘lawyers’ case transcripts. If there was anything that broke the masquerade in those transcripts he should be able to catch it.
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Catherine Nilson
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Wendigo: "I'm going hunting. You want in?"
Catherine Nilson: Cat stopped trying to pick the lock she had been working and picked up her vibrating phone. "Hey Wendell," she said almost cheerfully. "Hold on." A security guard approached, and she pulled a smoke bomb out of her pocket and threw it. The girl emerged from the building unscathed. She stopped in an alley. "Hunt what?"
Wendigo: "A Masquerade Violator."
Catherine Nilson: "When?" It was past midnight, and Cat would have to switch her gear out and change first.
Wendigo: "Still tracking him down," he says. "Get here when you can. Wabash's Office in Groom Center."
Catherine Nilson: "Okay, bye Wendell."
Cat hung up her cell and headed to her sire's spare apartment to prepare. The lights were off, neither Doc nor Jacquiline were present to distract her. She unloaded her backpack of breaking and entering supplies and restocked it with her pocketknife, scalpels, glock, bandages and dv camcorder. The last she packed just in case she wanted to share what would surely be a fun bonding experience with other vampires. Just her and her friends, killing another vampire. She was really coming up in the world. She even had a slight smile on her face. Cat showered and changed into a skirt, stockings and blouse.
The wistful smile remained as she headed toward the Groom Center. What humans might have seen her probably assumed she was a college student with a backpack full of books. She let herself into the room Wendell had indicated and saw a new vampire she'd never met before looking at some documents on a computer. She studied him, offered a brief smile that didn't reach her eyes, and walked past him to stand next to Wendigo. "Hey Wendell." Let the hunt begin.
Catherine Nilson: Cat stopped trying to pick the lock she had been working and picked up her vibrating phone. "Hey Wendell," she said almost cheerfully. "Hold on." A security guard approached, and she pulled a smoke bomb out of her pocket and threw it. The girl emerged from the building unscathed. She stopped in an alley. "Hunt what?"
Wendigo: "A Masquerade Violator."
Catherine Nilson: "When?" It was past midnight, and Cat would have to switch her gear out and change first.
Wendigo: "Still tracking him down," he says. "Get here when you can. Wabash's Office in Groom Center."
Catherine Nilson: "Okay, bye Wendell."
Cat hung up her cell and headed to her sire's spare apartment to prepare. The lights were off, neither Doc nor Jacquiline were present to distract her. She unloaded her backpack of breaking and entering supplies and restocked it with her pocketknife, scalpels, glock, bandages and dv camcorder. The last she packed just in case she wanted to share what would surely be a fun bonding experience with other vampires. Just her and her friends, killing another vampire. She was really coming up in the world. She even had a slight smile on her face. Cat showered and changed into a skirt, stockings and blouse.
The wistful smile remained as she headed toward the Groom Center. What humans might have seen her probably assumed she was a college student with a backpack full of books. She let herself into the room Wendell had indicated and saw a new vampire she'd never met before looking at some documents on a computer. She studied him, offered a brief smile that didn't reach her eyes, and walked past him to stand next to Wendigo. "Hey Wendell." Let the hunt begin.
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Wendigo
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Wendell heard the woman enter, though he didn't turn: sometimes etiquette still slipped his mind, especially when his attention was otherwise engaged. He did, however, manage to remember introductions. "Day... Cat. Cat... Day," he said after a pause. "We're still tracking him down, Cat. Pick a computer or folder and see what you can do."
Wendell continued through the files. There had to be something about this lawyer to determine what his crime and agenda were. It was, of course, equally important to track him down... but the two tasks might not be mutually exclusive. Like so many other things: where, what, and who would prove inexorably intertwined. They always did. Knowing one's enemy was crucial; unfortunately, they knew virtually nothing about this one. How could someone so dangerous be so anonymous? Could it be that he had actually encountered a clever Masquerade violator?
The next computer over chimed, and he slid the chair to its keyboard. This one had been running Sammael's facial recognition software on Wendell's wide net of security cameras in the city. The camera had tagged multiple hits: all recent... all...
All outside this very building.
It shouldn't have surprised him: Groom Center had been prominently placed next to the Harper Rock Courthouse and across the street from City Hall. It was a reminder to how important Groom Industries had once been to the economy of Harper Rock. A lawyer in the proximity of the Courthouse wasn't particularly interesting... the occasional trips to City Hall were of slightly greater interest, but didn't throw up any red flags in Wendell's mind.
"G.C. perimeter cameras show he's active in Bullwood," Wendell reported aloud. "Not much, but it's a start. Strike point in Bullwood might be too public... even at night. Plus, his schedule seems without discernible pattern. We need to know where he goes afterward."
He attempted to expand the search. He had cameras pointed out the windows of buildings all over Harper Rock: Newbourogh, Honeymead, Gambondale, Swandale, Moss End, Bullwood, Wickbridge, even some corners of the wilderness... Wendell owned property and had cameras in more than half the districts of the city patched into his mainframe, but it was a mere fraction of the streets in the city. Sammael or Ariadne would have had half the traffic cameras and train station security feeds up by now... they were apparently otherwise occupied tonight. This was a new kind of war on Masquerade violators, and he had to learn to make do with the resources at his disposal.
Considering that the most valuable assets he had might be in the room with him, and momentarily at a dead end, he turned the chair. "Other leads or ideas?" he asked.
Wendell continued through the files. There had to be something about this lawyer to determine what his crime and agenda were. It was, of course, equally important to track him down... but the two tasks might not be mutually exclusive. Like so many other things: where, what, and who would prove inexorably intertwined. They always did. Knowing one's enemy was crucial; unfortunately, they knew virtually nothing about this one. How could someone so dangerous be so anonymous? Could it be that he had actually encountered a clever Masquerade violator?
The next computer over chimed, and he slid the chair to its keyboard. This one had been running Sammael's facial recognition software on Wendell's wide net of security cameras in the city. The camera had tagged multiple hits: all recent... all...
All outside this very building.
It shouldn't have surprised him: Groom Center had been prominently placed next to the Harper Rock Courthouse and across the street from City Hall. It was a reminder to how important Groom Industries had once been to the economy of Harper Rock. A lawyer in the proximity of the Courthouse wasn't particularly interesting... the occasional trips to City Hall were of slightly greater interest, but didn't throw up any red flags in Wendell's mind.
"G.C. perimeter cameras show he's active in Bullwood," Wendell reported aloud. "Not much, but it's a start. Strike point in Bullwood might be too public... even at night. Plus, his schedule seems without discernible pattern. We need to know where he goes afterward."
He attempted to expand the search. He had cameras pointed out the windows of buildings all over Harper Rock: Newbourogh, Honeymead, Gambondale, Swandale, Moss End, Bullwood, Wickbridge, even some corners of the wilderness... Wendell owned property and had cameras in more than half the districts of the city patched into his mainframe, but it was a mere fraction of the streets in the city. Sammael or Ariadne would have had half the traffic cameras and train station security feeds up by now... they were apparently otherwise occupied tonight. This was a new kind of war on Masquerade violators, and he had to learn to make do with the resources at his disposal.
Considering that the most valuable assets he had might be in the room with him, and momentarily at a dead end, he turned the chair. "Other leads or ideas?" he asked.
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Day
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Day was only paying half attention as he was possibly on to something. He heard Wendell introduce him to someone, but he didn’t even look up. He just raised a hand and went right back to reading. There was something about this guy, Maxwell Abbott, that niggled at the back of his mind. He knew the face, but from where? It was all well and good to say that he knew the face, but it didn’t do ****, if you couldn’t remember where you knew him from.
So to say Day was single mindedly focused on Abbott was an under statement. It was a puzzle that he needed to figure out. Part of the puzzle was, ‘how did he know him’ and the other part was ‘how did it fit into a twenty grand bounty pay off’? It nagged at him. He knew something, but it wasn’t coming forward.
Day sat back. He was too close to the case, even if he didn’t recognize it. He knew something and that ‘something’ or ‘that memory’ was causing him to derail his usual tracking/studying method. He needed to back off. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and just meditated for a few minutes. He meditated on clearing his thoughts.
To anyone watching him, it might look like he was quietly napping, but that was not the case. He was focusing his thoughts to the job at hand. He had never had the experience of being ‘tied’ to a job before. And as he meditated, he realized that in the future, many of the bounties that he would be tracking, he may very well have ties to. So it behooved him, to stop and focus now, more than ever before, because this case could make or break him.
Clearing his mind, Day took emotion out of the mix. He discounted all the suppositions that he ‘wanted’ to suppose. He forced himself to look at the facts and facts alone.
Day opened his eyes. He smiled. He felt rejuvenated. He attacked the keyboard with vigor. Abbott was an attorney, a slimy attorney. How do you find a slimy attorney? You look for slimy clients. You look for the dregs of society. And so Day started there, with the cases that may not actually have gone to trial yet, but were still pending.
Searching the Harper Rock Newspapers he found a list of articles that were still pending. A string of break-ins in the higher end part of the city, those were not Abbot’s style. He by-passed those. Then there was the cases of car break ins. That could be his style, he book marked it. But then, he saw it. An article where the Harper Rock Police Chief was talking about a blood drinking biker gang. And along with that article.. a photo of the biker gang along with their attorney.. Maxwell Abbott. Yes!
“Wendell. Got something.” Day only have to point at the article and photo, he didn’t need to explain it. Wendell would catch on to it immediately. Wendell was scary like that.
So to say Day was single mindedly focused on Abbott was an under statement. It was a puzzle that he needed to figure out. Part of the puzzle was, ‘how did he know him’ and the other part was ‘how did it fit into a twenty grand bounty pay off’? It nagged at him. He knew something, but it wasn’t coming forward.
Day sat back. He was too close to the case, even if he didn’t recognize it. He knew something and that ‘something’ or ‘that memory’ was causing him to derail his usual tracking/studying method. He needed to back off. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and just meditated for a few minutes. He meditated on clearing his thoughts.
To anyone watching him, it might look like he was quietly napping, but that was not the case. He was focusing his thoughts to the job at hand. He had never had the experience of being ‘tied’ to a job before. And as he meditated, he realized that in the future, many of the bounties that he would be tracking, he may very well have ties to. So it behooved him, to stop and focus now, more than ever before, because this case could make or break him.
Clearing his mind, Day took emotion out of the mix. He discounted all the suppositions that he ‘wanted’ to suppose. He forced himself to look at the facts and facts alone.
Day opened his eyes. He smiled. He felt rejuvenated. He attacked the keyboard with vigor. Abbott was an attorney, a slimy attorney. How do you find a slimy attorney? You look for slimy clients. You look for the dregs of society. And so Day started there, with the cases that may not actually have gone to trial yet, but were still pending.
Searching the Harper Rock Newspapers he found a list of articles that were still pending. A string of break-ins in the higher end part of the city, those were not Abbot’s style. He by-passed those. Then there was the cases of car break ins. That could be his style, he book marked it. But then, he saw it. An article where the Harper Rock Police Chief was talking about a blood drinking biker gang. And along with that article.. a photo of the biker gang along with their attorney.. Maxwell Abbott. Yes!
“Wendell. Got something.” Day only have to point at the article and photo, he didn’t need to explain it. Wendell would catch on to it immediately. Wendell was scary like that.
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Catherine Nilson
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
This kind of hunting was boring, and Cat wanted to get down to the actual footwork. She buried herself in the stalking, because the faster she got the boring part over with the sooner they could move on to the best part. Maxwell was a suit, and they all looked the same to Cat. A former gangster who had been arrested as a juvenile two times, Cat was no stranger to the worst lawyers that the province could hand out. To her, they didn't want to make a difference, they just cared about money. They didn't actually believe in the people they were representing.
After Day spoke, Cat stood and walked over to the other vampires, fidgeting a little. She hoped this lead would get them somewhere. Her eyes narrowed when she looked at the photo and studied the vampire and his cohorts. Well that wasn't good. On the front page of the newspaper, pretty much displaying his vampire-ness along with his sleazy lawyer-ness. Cat would not feel sorry for this Abbott guy once she tracked him down.
"If we find the motorcycles, we find the gang. If we find the gang, we find our guy," she suggested. The motorcycles were disgustingly flashy, it wouldn't be that hard to find them in a warehouse or something. Cat looked at Mr. Groom. "Right, Wendell?" Some nastiness from her childhood was making this an almost personal matter; she cared more about punishing Maxwell for being a suit than for breaking the masquerade.
After Day spoke, Cat stood and walked over to the other vampires, fidgeting a little. She hoped this lead would get them somewhere. Her eyes narrowed when she looked at the photo and studied the vampire and his cohorts. Well that wasn't good. On the front page of the newspaper, pretty much displaying his vampire-ness along with his sleazy lawyer-ness. Cat would not feel sorry for this Abbott guy once she tracked him down.
"If we find the motorcycles, we find the gang. If we find the gang, we find our guy," she suggested. The motorcycles were disgustingly flashy, it wouldn't be that hard to find them in a warehouse or something. Cat looked at Mr. Groom. "Right, Wendell?" Some nastiness from her childhood was making this an almost personal matter; she cared more about punishing Maxwell for being a suit than for breaking the masquerade.
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Wendigo
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Were Wendell a prideful man, he might have felt shame at missing the obvious connection. Gangsters. Even if it weren't that particular biker gang, the names of criminal lawyers had a way of getting around. A name generally came with a number, and a number was a point of contact.
"Business associates..." he said, thinking aloud. "...could be bait or lure." He stood to approach Day's chair and look over his shoulder: his vision was keen, but focusing his eyes to read a screen from across a room was the sort of flashy and wasteful display of power he'd long since grown past. As he read the article, he continued to give voice to his thoughts. "Could corner one and 'convince' him to make some calls," he said before a simpler solution came to mind. "Maybe all we need is a phone. Generic gangster is easy enough to impersonate if I can get eyes on one."
He looked to a shadowy corner of the room where blue eyes had taken to glowing at him. "Dig us up some scum," he growled; the lack of tone leaving it ambiguous whether he was issuing a request or a command. The eyes blinked twice, and then did not return. Looking back at the screen, he added, "Takes care of that... he'll have one soon. Probably a whole pack."
He looked to the others. Three was overkill for a gangster nest, but he wanted to see them in action. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he was working with. Day was certainly a skilled predator, but a lone wolf. How would he work as part of a group? Cat was an unknown variable. On one hand, she was a vampire; on the other, her reaction to the news of a likely vampire Holocaust was to dig a hole and hide. Did she even have a quality weapon? The skill to use it? The Will?
These were things he needed to know: he doubted three could really ash a rogue vampire. Conscious vampires were not like ferals... this one would flee when it saw it was outgunned. Probably bury itself deep too. And then whine about it on CrowNet. This would have to be a precision strike or trap to work. Gangsters would be a warm up by comparison, but they might give him an opportunity to evaluate their chances of success as a team.
One thing was for certain: he wouldn't succeed on his own.
"Once the Wraith gets back..." he paused. "Well, my truck is loaded for bear," he concluded. "Guns, gear, ammo, vests, grenades, blood..." he listed by way of making an offer... he certainly didn't need more gear than he already had in the room. He looked toward the ornate rifle waiting impatiently on his desk: relatively untested gear and an untested team... it was lucky they were just stomping on rats for starters. This had all the makings of a disaster.
"Are we set to go?" he asked. "Is it a plan?"
"Business associates..." he said, thinking aloud. "...could be bait or lure." He stood to approach Day's chair and look over his shoulder: his vision was keen, but focusing his eyes to read a screen from across a room was the sort of flashy and wasteful display of power he'd long since grown past. As he read the article, he continued to give voice to his thoughts. "Could corner one and 'convince' him to make some calls," he said before a simpler solution came to mind. "Maybe all we need is a phone. Generic gangster is easy enough to impersonate if I can get eyes on one."
He looked to a shadowy corner of the room where blue eyes had taken to glowing at him. "Dig us up some scum," he growled; the lack of tone leaving it ambiguous whether he was issuing a request or a command. The eyes blinked twice, and then did not return. Looking back at the screen, he added, "Takes care of that... he'll have one soon. Probably a whole pack."
He looked to the others. Three was overkill for a gangster nest, but he wanted to see them in action. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he was working with. Day was certainly a skilled predator, but a lone wolf. How would he work as part of a group? Cat was an unknown variable. On one hand, she was a vampire; on the other, her reaction to the news of a likely vampire Holocaust was to dig a hole and hide. Did she even have a quality weapon? The skill to use it? The Will?
These were things he needed to know: he doubted three could really ash a rogue vampire. Conscious vampires were not like ferals... this one would flee when it saw it was outgunned. Probably bury itself deep too. And then whine about it on CrowNet. This would have to be a precision strike or trap to work. Gangsters would be a warm up by comparison, but they might give him an opportunity to evaluate their chances of success as a team.
One thing was for certain: he wouldn't succeed on his own.
"Once the Wraith gets back..." he paused. "Well, my truck is loaded for bear," he concluded. "Guns, gear, ammo, vests, grenades, blood..." he listed by way of making an offer... he certainly didn't need more gear than he already had in the room. He looked toward the ornate rifle waiting impatiently on his desk: relatively untested gear and an untested team... it was lucky they were just stomping on rats for starters. This had all the makings of a disaster.
"Are we set to go?" he asked. "Is it a plan?"
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Day
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Re: [tCotR] - Maxwell Abbott
Day pressed his lips together as he thought through things. He didn’t want to tell Wendell his job. But he would go about things a little bit differently. “If we go in heavy handed.. and we don’t kill every single one of those gangsters; and just one gets away. And if that one, that gets away, happens to have noticed Baby Girl’s pointed grill..” he looks at Cat, “You can be sure our guy will be informed. And as soon as Abbott hears his guys have been rousted by those of the pointy teeth variety, he’s gone.”
Day rubbed his jaw, “We have to presume Abbott knows there is a hefty bounty on his head. And that he is already hidden deep. If Abbott is smart.. since he passed the Bar.. I guess he’s got some brains; he’s not going to tell anyone where he is, so killing some thugs won’t get us far. Abbott’s going to have to want to come out, on his own.” He pauses, because he is still formulating his plan.
“What would make him come out of hiding? Some gangsters getting roughed up and killed? No. He would just burrow deeper. Bide his time, and stay holed up. But.. if another gang.. started moving in on his territory; and tried to take it over...” Day nodded, “Someone of Abbott’s ilk.. that would be burn his ego good. He would have to do a show of force, to intimidate the usurpers. But because of the Bounty on his head, he’s not in a position to have a full blown gang at his beck and call without the worrying someone will turn on him for the 20k bounty. So it would probably just be him.” he fell silent as the plan took better shape.
“We go roust the gang, pretending to be human... only we don’t kill em. We tell em we’re taking over, they answer to us now.” He shrugged, “Might have to kill a couple..to make it sink in. Baby Girl will be eye candy. She won’t engage in the ‘fight’, She’s just for looks,” Day looked at Cat, “You can playing the clingy gun moll yea?” He looks back Wendell, “Once we beat em into submission, we set up shop in their house. Keep tabs on them.. sooner or later one of them will come up with a good reason to leave, so that he can get word to Abbott.
“All the while, Baby Girl is just being ornamental arm candy, almost helpless on her own. But then we, you and I, get a call, we have to leave.. leaving Baby Girl all alone, as bait. Abbott see that as the time to strike. Make an example of Baby Girl.. Only we’re not really gone.. so much as we’re waitin’ for Abbott to show…”
Day rubbed his jaw, “We have to presume Abbott knows there is a hefty bounty on his head. And that he is already hidden deep. If Abbott is smart.. since he passed the Bar.. I guess he’s got some brains; he’s not going to tell anyone where he is, so killing some thugs won’t get us far. Abbott’s going to have to want to come out, on his own.” He pauses, because he is still formulating his plan.
“What would make him come out of hiding? Some gangsters getting roughed up and killed? No. He would just burrow deeper. Bide his time, and stay holed up. But.. if another gang.. started moving in on his territory; and tried to take it over...” Day nodded, “Someone of Abbott’s ilk.. that would be burn his ego good. He would have to do a show of force, to intimidate the usurpers. But because of the Bounty on his head, he’s not in a position to have a full blown gang at his beck and call without the worrying someone will turn on him for the 20k bounty. So it would probably just be him.” he fell silent as the plan took better shape.
“We go roust the gang, pretending to be human... only we don’t kill em. We tell em we’re taking over, they answer to us now.” He shrugged, “Might have to kill a couple..to make it sink in. Baby Girl will be eye candy. She won’t engage in the ‘fight’, She’s just for looks,” Day looked at Cat, “You can playing the clingy gun moll yea?” He looks back Wendell, “Once we beat em into submission, we set up shop in their house. Keep tabs on them.. sooner or later one of them will come up with a good reason to leave, so that he can get word to Abbott.
“All the while, Baby Girl is just being ornamental arm candy, almost helpless on her own. But then we, you and I, get a call, we have to leave.. leaving Baby Girl all alone, as bait. Abbott see that as the time to strike. Make an example of Baby Girl.. Only we’re not really gone.. so much as we’re waitin’ for Abbott to show…”