Difference between revisions of "Log:I Spy"

27 June, 2018

Velvet goes in search of a lead from a hotel employee, and meets a would-be assassin. Part of Olivia's Crucible

RT08

It takes a two hours before Velvet receives a response from one of her contacts. Eventually she does, though. The employee Samuel Jefferson, wasn't hard to figure out. Not in the slightest. Massive student debt, college dropout. Likely addicted to porn, and another avenue of debt. After all that is Mr. Sternritter. Looking into the name itself and that number was weird. It led to several different people, several different numbers, and several assumed aliases. They'd probably have something more substantial in a few hours. The preceding text from Sternritter tells "Samuel" that his next payment will be delivered in the morning. He's to meet Sternritter at their usual location at the bridge on the southside of town directly at dusk. Past that, this will be their last transaction. He's still not to mention Sternritter's name to anyone in the hotel - especially Weaver.

Well, Weaver has already been texted that name from Velvet, especially after tht warning was given. But Velvet was already on her way to the drop off point, silent and invisible as she always is when she's scoping out a place like this. She gets there quickly, and early, checking all the typical spots where a trap might be laid or a gunman might hide. After all, whoever this is has gone through a lot to hide their identity, which means that they probably don't like loose ends. Right now she's just waiting. Watching.

Weaver didn't know the name. As best he can tell it's a German name, but he hasn't been to Germany in since he was a kid. He just wishes her good luck and love while he says he has a few calls of his own to make. The drive to the bridge isn't a long one from the hotel. A car pass through every now and again, but no one stops. She has to wait an hour before anyone pulls up, on the opposite side of the bridge. He moves to the middle of the bridge, bringing herself to the light. It looks like a Changeling, her hair jet black, and her clothes equally as dark. Her fingers end in menacing claws which she uses to tap on a phone, and then the phone in Velvet's possession rattles with a new message. "where u at?"

'Not far' reads the text as it is sent back. 'Got caught up @work'. This gives Velvet a little bit of time as she moves around the woman and over towards the car itself. There's not need for extra use of the Wyrd here when she can just as easily use her mundane skills to crack into the car without being spotted. She manages to get it open and closed quietly, silently starting to dig through anything. She's checking the registration, insurance, looking for the books. A purse, a bag. Everything and anything is getting scoped out.

The woman on the bridge doesn't seem the slightest bit happy. "Jesus fucking Christ!" she shouts into the wind. She begins typing furiously away at her phone, but that may as well be in the back of Velvet's mind. The car is a fairly new subcompact that still has that fresh smell in it. There isn't a sign of any of the books or journals Weaver listed. There are a few things oddly of note. A firearm of hedgespun make in the glove compartment, and a knife equally as odd. The car belongs to a Wilma Thorogood. No purse or the like to find, although there is a bag with a few dozen pictures. Each and every one of them come from the local newspaper, and the only similarity between it all is that each one is an Utridge. Either by name, birth, or marriage.

The gun and the knife are tucked into holsters on Velvet's person so that she can look at them later. Like fuck she's letting that good luck pass her by. The newspapers are rifled through, eyes narrowing faintly as she considers. They're tucked into her bag. Once everything is explored, she closes the door and starts to move, hoping up onto the hood of the car. "I'm getting so sooooo tired of people targeting the people I care about. My /family/. My husband." The voice comes from the car where Velvet is perched, a gun already trained on the woman in case she decides to try something. "Normally, I would have just blown your head off by now and been done with it. But I'd like some answers. So. I'm going to give you a single chance to agree to give me those answers in exchange for letting you live."

The woman turns to Velvet, teeth clenched in anger. Her mantle expresses itself as a cold chill that's beat back by the mantle of the autumn nearby. "You stupid bitch. I don't know who you are, or what you want. But you got a total of five seconds to put that gun down. Walk away, and pretend that this isn't what you want to do unless you got a fucking death wish."

"All of this Utridge research and you don't know who I am? I'd be offended if I cared at all about you or your opinion." The gun clicks, loading a shot into the chamber. "I'm Velvet Utridge. Weaver's wife. And you have something that belongs to him. I want to know why it was stolen, why you're studying the family, and I want the items returned." As for death wishes," she chuckles, the gun pointed towards the woman's head now. "Honey, I am the death wish."

The woman sighs as the hammer clicks. "Well fucking shit. Look lady, I'm just a paid gun. Your husband's done some fucked up shit, and he wants you lot to suffer. He's hurt a lot of people, and one specifically has the means and money to make sure he pays. I don't know what he's told you, but it's gonna get you killed. All I'm gonna say is that I work for The Iron Dragon, and that's the end of it. I've been in your same position, and I pity you." She doesn't. Not completely at least. "Just walk away now, and if you got any hope for your own life you better kill him before I do. I don't have a thing from him, and I don't know who does." The former is the truth, the latter is a lie.

"I know who he is, and a few of the bad things he's done. I'm no summer peach myself." Velvet can't lie while her Sight of Truth and Lies is up, but it's probably about what she would have said anyway. "Don't threaten my husband," she offers cooly as the gun aims lower, gun near silent as the bullet rips right through the woman's calf. Perfectly aimed, perfectly executed. "Don't lie to me again, either. Do so and the next thing I aim for will be vital." She lifts the gun at the woman's head again. "Who does? I want names. And the location of the books that you had stolen. I'm running out of patience for this."

She didn't have near enough time to move as the bullet flew freely. Her legs immediately buckle under the weight of trying to hold it with just one good leg, and the pain running through the other. Velvet may not have been aiming for anything vital, but she did hit something as a pool of blood begins to swell under the crippled darkling clad in leather. "I am going to kill you." That is very much not a lie. "I told you. The Iron Dragon wants his head. He has the fucking books, and I don't know where he is. He paid me to do a job, but you. You're gonna be freebie. A gift from me to him." With that she disappears from sight, and the smell of blood in the air falters save what's on the ground.

"Oh, it's adorable that you truly believe you're going to kill me instead of the other way around. I think maybe you're severed head will serve as a delightful warning to this Iron Dragon." Velvet's tongue clicks as the woman vanishes, along with her scent. Not invisible then, moved. Velvet shimmers out of sight and jumps from the car, head tilting as she waits for the scent to catch on the wind. There. It's a bit of a trek, but she's moving swiftly, running quickly, in odd, zig zag patterns and leaving no trace of her movements. She's careful. One hired killer going after another.

The scent does lead her away, but she eventually spots that as a trick. The woman isn't on the ground with her, let alone on the same level. It's impossible to hear her, much less see her. However, Velvet's nose knows. She's in the water, and below the surface. From the barely there scent she's moving downstream, and using the current to carry her with her currently jacked up leg.

The tracking tops as she comes to the ege of the water, her eyes narrowing. "Clever," she rumbles. There's a moment of regret as she sighs and lifts the gun. Honestly, if she weren't trying to kill Weaver, Velvet is betting that they could have gotten along pretty well. Oh well. Bitch gotta die. The shots are lined up, gun switched to medium burst as she takes a couple of shots through the water.

Wilma would've gotten away. Could've gotten away. If it weren't for Velvet anyway. The first shot draws a cry the bubbles up from the water. The second gaurantees that she won't be getting away. Eventually her body floats to the surface, gently carried down the stream of the River Tam and a trail of blood in her wake.

When the body bobs up towards the surface, Velvet starts to move into the water. She sets the guns and phones safely aside for the moment, trying to make sure that they don't get damaged. she swims out towards the body, grabbing ahold and starting to swim back. A little Stone might help in this case, helping her make it with the extra weight. She starts to drag the body back onto shore, knife at the ready just in case. Time to start rifling through pockets.

The woman isn't that heavy, at least compared to Velvet. She is, however, a bit taller, and that alone makes bringing her back a pain in the ass. When back on the shore there isn't too much to find on the woman. Her phones been damaged by all the water. Her wallet has several IDs in it. The faces all look similar to what Velvet sees in the mask, although her natural hair is much more orange. Taxi driver, food license, trucker ID, driver's license, a lawyer, and insurance sales. Not a one of them has the same name of it. The oddest thing to be found is a soggy business card labeled The Iron Printing Presses of New York.

Hey, good fake IDs aren't easy to come by, and quite frankly, Velvet can make herself look like any of these, so they're tucked into her possessions. She pauses when she gets to the Iron Printing Presses card, lips curving faintly. "Bingo," she murmurs to herself as she takes that as well. The body is hidden, guns and her own phone reclaimed. It'll take a while to get the woman back towards the car and into the truck, but Velvet doesn't seem to mind taking her time and getting it right. Looks like the hedgebeasts are eating well tonight.

As Velvet goes about fixing and sorting things out. She finds out that her little trip in the water comes with two sets of missed messages. It's hard to make out what is on the assassin's phone after that trip through the river. The best that can be made out is, "s it do." Her own phone is a bit more busy. Her hacker pal had been trying to get a hold of her.

"hey" "HEY" "u there???" "sternritter is fake" "lots of money" "own an island money" "best tie is to ex-hubbie of one name" "randy spokes" montpelierVT"

The other phone is going to need some rice to deal with the water damage, and fast. Texts are still coming through, even if they're hard to read. That means it might be salvagable. The body is dumped into the trunk as Velvet hops in, checking her own phone. "Thank you. Will send payment now." She replies to her hacker contact before he tosses the phones on the seat and starts heading for home.