Post by Winters on Oct 13, 2013 21:39:22 GMT -5
She couldnt admit that things got messy too quickly for her tastes, but Katie wasnt in any position to be making judgement calls. By the time the scene unfolded, and was over and done with, she shook it off like nothing happened. It wasnt like she knew them, or had any feelings for them, even if they were part of a big MC. Back before all of this, shed dealt with them a few times, usually good people just doing bad things for good reasons. But now, they were bad peoplg doing bad things for even worse reasons.
Deciding it was best to maybe shed some light on the situation, Katie spoke to Connor, and made sure things were clear. "Thing is, ive been in here for months now. I was collecting information about the operations happening inside these walls, in hopes of passing that information along to over companies like the BSAA. Everybody needs to make a living somehow, right? I do what im good at. I take it your a mercenary of sorts, so you know what its like to be in business when business is booming. Youll do whatever it takes to get the job done. Take that as you would. Im just here to help out the BSAA, make sure theyre in the right direction, and put all this to a close. Vegas would be a much, much safer place if they werent distributing viral samples, much less testing them on is population..."
~~~
"Im not sure, but it looks like whatever happened, happened fast, and bloody. No gunshots, either, which meant whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing." Vega really didnt care who the guy was, but it was interesting to see other groups inside the walls. Maybe the bikers werent as psychotic as the raiders, or maybe they were worse. Definitely much more organized, given the patches. Hes only been involved in a biker gang twice in his career, and from experience, they were very organized. They would run drugs, and guns. Not bioweapons and chemicals. As far as things were, guns and drugs were still both a much needed commodity, no matter where you went, so they were still in business.
"Could be head of distribution, muling it out to other towns. Or maybe theyre just mixed up in the wrong line of work, wrong place wrong time, happens a lot these days. Wouldnt blame them, but they mustve done something to **** off somebody to be ripped apart like this. That was for sure..." The mission was still straight forward, no matter the obsticals. Getting to the plants entrance for a sitrep had been number one priority, and at the pace they were going, could be shortly if they kept it up. "We shouldnt stick around any long then we have to, lets keep moving."
~~~
"I used to be a beat cop a long time ago..." The older man started, leaning against a wall. "And id get called out on domestic disputes all the time, hundreds probably over the years." He was dragging the story on, and it was apparent that it was going to take a long time. The other man sat in the chair, listening intently, knowing that whatever came out of this mans mouth would be important in the end.
"But there was this one guy, this one piece of s*** that I will never forget. Gordy, he looked like Bo Svenson, you remember him? Walking Tall? You dont remember?" He asked, somewhat rhetorically. Although the other man shook his head, oblivious to the reference. "Anyway, big boy. two seventy, two eight. But his wife, whatever she was, his lady, was real small. Like a bird. Wrists like little branches." The imagery was clear, she had been a very petite woman, unable to defend herself if needed be. Depressingly, the man could relate to women like her.
"Anyway, my partner and I got called out there every weekend, and one of us would pull her aside and say, 'come on, tonights the night we press charges'. And this wasnt one of those deep-down he-loves-me set-ups, we get a lot of those, but not this. This girl was scared. She wasnt going to cross him, no way, no how. Nothing we could do but pass her off to the EMTs, put him in a car and drive him downtown, throw him in the drunk tank. He sleeps it off, next morning out he goes. Back home." This was a typical American household when it came to fairly young couples, that was the sad part. He could once again relate to the situation, everybody could at some point in there life.
"But one night, my partners out sick, and its just me. And the call comes in, and its the usual crap. Broke her nose in the shower kind of thing. So I cuff him, put him in the car and away we go. Only that night, were driving into town, and this sideways a**hole is in my back seat humming 'Danny Boy.' And it just rubbed me wrong. So instead of left, I go right, out into nowhere. And I kneel him down, and I put my revolver in his mouth, and I told him, 'This is it. This is how it ends.' And hes crying, going to the bathroom all over himself, swearing to God hes going to leave her alone. Screaming as much as you can with a gun in your mouth."
The story look a very sharp turn, and the silence had been even more crisper, more gutwrenching then before. The man before him had been one tough guy, and had a real sense of justice, even if it meant killing somebody in cold blood for a very solid reason. But he let the man continue, just sitting in awe at the story he was being told. And I told him to be quiet. Cause I needed to think about what I was going to do here. And of course he got quiet. Goes still. And real quiet. Like a dog waiting for dinner scraps. And we just stood there for a while, me acting like im thinking things over, and Prince Charming kneeling in the dirt with s*** in his pants. And after a few minutes I took the gun out of his mouth, and I say, 'So help me if you touch her again I will such and such and such and such and blah blah blah blah blah'.
The man sitting in the chair is speechless, but the pause allows him to get a word in. He was trying to choose his words very carefully, especially after hearing the story so far. "You let him off with just a warning?" He spoke. "Oh course. Just trying to do the right thing." The man was terrifying, bit his sense of justice has been even more white knight than before, and the story finally came together nicely. It was good to know that despite having done all of that, there was room for a kind soul, somebody with an actual soul in this world whi wouldnt just pull the trigger like everybody else. The man had respect.
"But two weeks later he killed her. Of course. Caved her head in with the base of a Waring blender. We got there, there was so much blood you could taste the metal." Thats when it dawned on him. This wasnt about justice, this was a mistake he had made. The reason why everybody acts the way they do came down to the roles in this story. "The moral of the story is, I chose a half measure, when I should have gone all the way. Ill never make that mistake again." The room was very silence, for a very long time.
Deciding it was best to maybe shed some light on the situation, Katie spoke to Connor, and made sure things were clear. "Thing is, ive been in here for months now. I was collecting information about the operations happening inside these walls, in hopes of passing that information along to over companies like the BSAA. Everybody needs to make a living somehow, right? I do what im good at. I take it your a mercenary of sorts, so you know what its like to be in business when business is booming. Youll do whatever it takes to get the job done. Take that as you would. Im just here to help out the BSAA, make sure theyre in the right direction, and put all this to a close. Vegas would be a much, much safer place if they werent distributing viral samples, much less testing them on is population..."
~~~
"Im not sure, but it looks like whatever happened, happened fast, and bloody. No gunshots, either, which meant whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing." Vega really didnt care who the guy was, but it was interesting to see other groups inside the walls. Maybe the bikers werent as psychotic as the raiders, or maybe they were worse. Definitely much more organized, given the patches. Hes only been involved in a biker gang twice in his career, and from experience, they were very organized. They would run drugs, and guns. Not bioweapons and chemicals. As far as things were, guns and drugs were still both a much needed commodity, no matter where you went, so they were still in business.
"Could be head of distribution, muling it out to other towns. Or maybe theyre just mixed up in the wrong line of work, wrong place wrong time, happens a lot these days. Wouldnt blame them, but they mustve done something to **** off somebody to be ripped apart like this. That was for sure..." The mission was still straight forward, no matter the obsticals. Getting to the plants entrance for a sitrep had been number one priority, and at the pace they were going, could be shortly if they kept it up. "We shouldnt stick around any long then we have to, lets keep moving."
~~~
"I used to be a beat cop a long time ago..." The older man started, leaning against a wall. "And id get called out on domestic disputes all the time, hundreds probably over the years." He was dragging the story on, and it was apparent that it was going to take a long time. The other man sat in the chair, listening intently, knowing that whatever came out of this mans mouth would be important in the end.
"But there was this one guy, this one piece of s*** that I will never forget. Gordy, he looked like Bo Svenson, you remember him? Walking Tall? You dont remember?" He asked, somewhat rhetorically. Although the other man shook his head, oblivious to the reference. "Anyway, big boy. two seventy, two eight. But his wife, whatever she was, his lady, was real small. Like a bird. Wrists like little branches." The imagery was clear, she had been a very petite woman, unable to defend herself if needed be. Depressingly, the man could relate to women like her.
"Anyway, my partner and I got called out there every weekend, and one of us would pull her aside and say, 'come on, tonights the night we press charges'. And this wasnt one of those deep-down he-loves-me set-ups, we get a lot of those, but not this. This girl was scared. She wasnt going to cross him, no way, no how. Nothing we could do but pass her off to the EMTs, put him in a car and drive him downtown, throw him in the drunk tank. He sleeps it off, next morning out he goes. Back home." This was a typical American household when it came to fairly young couples, that was the sad part. He could once again relate to the situation, everybody could at some point in there life.
"But one night, my partners out sick, and its just me. And the call comes in, and its the usual crap. Broke her nose in the shower kind of thing. So I cuff him, put him in the car and away we go. Only that night, were driving into town, and this sideways a**hole is in my back seat humming 'Danny Boy.' And it just rubbed me wrong. So instead of left, I go right, out into nowhere. And I kneel him down, and I put my revolver in his mouth, and I told him, 'This is it. This is how it ends.' And hes crying, going to the bathroom all over himself, swearing to God hes going to leave her alone. Screaming as much as you can with a gun in your mouth."
The story look a very sharp turn, and the silence had been even more crisper, more gutwrenching then before. The man before him had been one tough guy, and had a real sense of justice, even if it meant killing somebody in cold blood for a very solid reason. But he let the man continue, just sitting in awe at the story he was being told. And I told him to be quiet. Cause I needed to think about what I was going to do here. And of course he got quiet. Goes still. And real quiet. Like a dog waiting for dinner scraps. And we just stood there for a while, me acting like im thinking things over, and Prince Charming kneeling in the dirt with s*** in his pants. And after a few minutes I took the gun out of his mouth, and I say, 'So help me if you touch her again I will such and such and such and such and blah blah blah blah blah'.
The man sitting in the chair is speechless, but the pause allows him to get a word in. He was trying to choose his words very carefully, especially after hearing the story so far. "You let him off with just a warning?" He spoke. "Oh course. Just trying to do the right thing." The man was terrifying, bit his sense of justice has been even more white knight than before, and the story finally came together nicely. It was good to know that despite having done all of that, there was room for a kind soul, somebody with an actual soul in this world whi wouldnt just pull the trigger like everybody else. The man had respect.
"But two weeks later he killed her. Of course. Caved her head in with the base of a Waring blender. We got there, there was so much blood you could taste the metal." Thats when it dawned on him. This wasnt about justice, this was a mistake he had made. The reason why everybody acts the way they do came down to the roles in this story. "The moral of the story is, I chose a half measure, when I should have gone all the way. Ill never make that mistake again." The room was very silence, for a very long time.