|
Post by Lunapocalypse on Aug 2, 2010 22:42:44 GMT -5
"There he is," Aya waved in return, "Looks like Matt got hit too..." noting the blood, but also picking out the several internal wounds; the limp was the give-away though. He moved for his Chevy; Aya hopped off the SUV, hoping her bike was still in one piece.
"Oh, Ty," she stood where his transport had been, looking to where it was now, "Your truck," one side caught the wall, it looked like an axle might be snapped too, "A little wheel reallignment, maybe? If the PMC engy isn't busy,"
Speak of the devil. As Aya neared her Luna a group of mercs popped up from around the corner, 'Are they here for us?" she wasn't certain, no point acting startled if they weren't, 'Looks like it,' they formed a semi-circle around her and Tyson from one side of the street, G-36c's all pointing their laser sights at their chests. It was a one way standoff for a moment until Aya blinked her FNP-9 out and at a random head. Intimidation, "I could drop about six of you before you open fire. Anyone up for testing that out?" it was still uncertain why they were being treated as such; they weren't dead, but they were being held at gunpoint, "How about you Ty?"
Muzzles quivered, it had worked; the moment was lost as someone, clearly of higher rank, pushed his way through the line, "That won't be necessary," he spoke with reason, not to mention the clear voice of rank, "Just a precaution..." he smiled, bouncing on his feet once, hands clasped over his stomach, "Actually, we're really impressed with how you took down that hostile back there. Among this one here," he booted the dead soldier in front of him, something internal had gone bust which had made him vomit blood in his helmet, "Allow me to be the mature one. Colonel Ron Clausland, PMC Nomad," he extended his hand.
Aya looked to Tyson wondering whether he had the same expression as her; it wasn't every day you came across a moderately jolly PMC commander. However Aya felt obligated to show up the sense of power he no doubt felt, lowering her aim, gripping his hand and smiling, "Colonel Aya Flow, PMC Dragonfly," two sharp shakes and withdrawal; it didn't feel right to use rank, but as far as she knew it hadn't been stripped from her when she resigned, "Speaking of which, I don't suppose you would know if they're in Vegas at this hour?"
There was no change of expression, the guy seemed solid, "Nomad is working with Dragonfly in cahoots as a matter of fact. Too much overlapping operations here. Most of us have a joint partnership," he slipped his radio out and switched frequency, "Luger," most likely a codeword, the kind to get someone of equal importance on the other line quicksmart, "Yes, I have someone here I think you may like to speak to. Dee's old commander if I'm correct to assume," he handed it over.
Aya took it meekly while maintaining eye contact with the Colonel, "Aya here,"
"It's a pleasure to hear from you, ma'am," Aya didn't recognise the voice, must have been someone new, "Claypoole said to keep a seat warm incase you ever dropped in this way," she smiled and dropped the tension, looking to Tyson in a way to say 'it's cool', "We could do with someone of your stature at the moment,"
"I can see that, what is going on here exactly?"
"For a while we've been having trouble with an extremist group. No name. No demands. They want Las Vegas to burn. All the Intel we have is that they're carrying some serious tech with them, stuff which none of the PMC's have," the sounds of him shuffling in his seat occurred during the pause, "Not all of them sport the stuff though. They have plenty of foot soldiers to throw at us. We've been waiting for their grand scheme for a while now. We didn't really know how a deep an operation it was,"
"Well it seems pretty deep to me. We just need to combat it," several Nomad members responded this with 'yeah' and 'aye', "I'd like to drop into HQ-"
"We're all in the same family here, Aya. PMC-D is across town. You can join us at our small beachfront we've setup," Ron offered. Aya handed the radio over, "We're ready to escort if you're ready,"
Uncertainty. The little Ivory girl would have prefered to be with her own Dragonfly's. Word was all she had on this one. They all faught the same enemy here, protest would just waste time, "Sure," she slowly backed to the Luna, "Do you think you could get a mechanic around to gather that truck too?" Aya pointed over to Tyson's Ford.
Ron nodded, "I'll look into it right now,"
"I also have another friend coming along. He's good with a gun," she thumbed behind herself, not pointing at anyone in particular; there was a fleeting change of expression on the Colonel's face but he seemed unfazed and nodded to this too, 'That is if he wants to join us,'
Aya turned, "Always like old times," her arms crossed on the approach to the Luna and Impala, "Just without the smell of money and contract. I miss the battlefield though," sighing, "I don't know Tyson. If you don't want to be in on this then I'd understand. It all seems a little uncouth, I'll admit,"
Matt looked a lot more fatigued close up than from a distance, "You okay?" Aya leaned in, the blood on his face was his. She took one step back and pointed at both of them, "Y'know, you'd both fit in really well with some Dark Age group hacking people up," there was no denying they both looked like hell, "All that's missing is your Claymoore, Ty. And, well, Matt's got that part covered," gesturing at his machette.
It actually made her feel a little like a neat freak.
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Aug 3, 2010 3:14:10 GMT -5
“Ya…” Tyson said, a bit of dismay in his voice when Aya commented about his truck. He liked that truck… Well, easy come, easy go. He knew the whole engine compartment had to be a bowl of mixed nuts. And bolts. And rods. And every other f**king piece that made an engine run.
“If a mechanic can fix that thing, I’m gonna dance an Irish Jig.” He said. “Got the precious cargo, all I’m worried about.” He said, the case in one hand, the Remington now in the other, the Glock tucked into the back of his waistband. They made their way to Aya’s bike, and Tyson let out a small laugh. “Nice. Mine gets turned into a pretzel, your’s doesn’t even get dirty. How’s that fair?” He asked, wondering how it was he was going to move around for a moment. Until the men with guns popped out of the woodwork. Nine or ten, something like that, he couldn’t see them all, not wanting to move for a moment. He dropped the case with a thump, letting his eyes scan the crowd for a moment. He saw the beginning of Aya’s motion, drawing her Browning from it’s holster and he moved in sync. He took a step back, almost back to back to with, both hands on the sawn down pump action.
He heard her talk, big talk that may or may not have been possible, but he went along. “I got two in this first round, third with the knife. Last one has the short straw, I’m just gonna beat him to death.” He said, eyeing the first two he was aiming dead center between. He saw their expressions, saw the way they faltered. Looked like they were buying it. Hell, he’d have bought it too, if he just watched two people take down those other two.
He never let his weapon drop, even when the situation turned on its heel. Suddenly, they were buddies? He’d seen odder things in his time. Like the s*** that happened six or seven minutes ago, and the more he thought about it it didn’t seem too odd. Normal people, bad or good or somewhere in between, banding together. He didn’t know this company from Adam, but they said they worked with PMC-D. If that was true, if Claypoole was working with them… Couldn’t be all that bad.
It was coming to a head. They had arrangements to get to the HQ, beachfront no less, unless it was some kind of new lingo he didn’t understand. HQ was HQ, sometimes OP, sometimes CP or CC. He looked to someone in the group, looking for someone who didn’t seem all that bad to ride with. Riding with Aya was out. He was pretty sure there was a weight limit on that bike. And his eyes almost lit up when he heard they could probably get his truck and have a mechanic take a look at it. A guy who was used to piecing together vehicles hit by bombs or shredded by gunfire. b*tchin’.
He took a look around, not having seen Matt for some time. Aya had spotted him, but Tyson didn’t look back. Now that he did, he could see the Impala, most likely with Matt in the drivers seat.
“Old times?” He said, looking over at Aya when she said it. When he thought about it… Ya, it was. Sure, different group of a**holes, same objective. Kill, stop, prevent. Kill them all, stop all of their plans, prevent all of the harm they would do. Always the way he saw it. He was an all or nothing kind of guy.
“What, you light up a joint when I wasn’t looking or something?” He asked her when she asked him if he really wanted to get into this. “You gotta be stoned, asking me that question. After all that s***, all them good times we had back in the day?” He said. “Like you said. Like old times.” He snickered at her comparison to old day bad mofo’s, pulling his shirt a bit to take a look at it. Good god… Blood spread a lot more than he remembered. And in his beard… He could almost taste it. “Jesus…” He muttered, finally realizing the full extent. “Shower and shave, that’s on the to do list.” The beard and hair was starting to get annoying.
He followed along with a couple of men to a jeep they had parked, one of them showing him the back seat. He tossed the case and the shotgun into the back, and got into the back. The case contained the destroyed AR-15. Maybe he could salvage something from it... He sure wasnt giving up on it without trying. Two other men got into the front, one more got into the back, sitting closer to the door than he did Tyson. “What, afraid of a little blood?” He asked with a smirk.
“No, afraid of something that f**ker might have had.” The man said. s***… Tyson’d never even thought of that.
“Thanks, thank you so much for mentioning that.” Tyson said sarcastically.
“Anytime.” The man said, a cherry tone in his voice.
|
|
|
Post by .Merios on Aug 3, 2010 11:42:04 GMT -5
Matthew laughed at the "Dark Age" bit, it was rather fitting considering the circumstances. He brought his hand up to his face and wiped down the right side of his face, which was covered in gravel and blood. He had managed to wipe all the blood from his skin to reveal a perfectly intact cheek. Hmph, must've not hurt it as bad as he thought. He pushed himself off the trunk lid and smirked at Aya, walking to the front of the car, fishing in his pocket for the keys. He opened the car door and looked back at Tyson and Aya.
"I'm in, I'll go ahead and follow you two."
He said, leaning on the frame of the door. He wasn't quite getting inside yet, he was waiting to see what the gorillas in body armor were doing before he was going to leave. He didn't like them at all, seeing as how he was thrown around like a ragdoll, they didn't like him either. Matthew was able to hear bits and pieces of the conversation, even though he was half a block away. Normally, he'd be able to hear better... His implant was starting to wither, which was expected after such a long time on the lam. His other senses told him that he hadn't taken a shower yet, and a change of clothes would have been welcome. At least there was a beach where they were going.
|
|
|
Post by Lunapocalypse on Aug 4, 2010 6:29:25 GMT -5
Speed had to be sacrificed for the PMC operations crisscrossing the street, a sea of patches running around. Aya road side by side with the Colonel's humvee as he explained the details, they both agreed that time was of the essence and the info he knew had to be passed over now rather than later.
"Believe it or not the attack at the gunshop was about thirty minutes behind the intial attack. We got word where it might happen, near the city centre. Rough place for it to break out but we took what we could get," the man lit a cigar, up until this point Aya wasn't sure whether he was ever under stress or not, "So we set up shop in the Mirage. Low key, nothing to spook civvies, there's enough of a PMC pressence in the casinos already. Now, imagine we were right on top of where it would happen?" he looked to the Jane, eyebrow raised, "The battlefield is Las Vegas Boulevard, neither the PMC's or Collateral-"
"Collateral?" Aya asked, unsure whether that were another non-contract company.
"Codename for the extremists. We don't know their real name so we decided to give them one. They don't show any concern for civilian casualties or structures, so it sticks well," he sucked on his cigar, a plume of smoke billowing out of the corner of his mouth, "Anyway... neither the PMC's or extremists have made a move to cross the Boulevard. It's too open," rubbing his eyes, probably in annoyance, "I know what you're thinking, just wait it out, but with the force they're throwing at us I don't think we have that option. They keep piling out of the Venetian Resort. We think their main operation is in the convention centre behind it. Sometimes one of the brutes steps out. Thankfully a .50 BMG full metal jacket packs enough grunt to punch through that armor. It never breaks through the other side though. Hell, sometimes that doesn't even work. I've got a group of sharpshooters and spotters along the roof of the Mirage incase they throw a group of'em at us," the convoy turned a corner, sounds of the firefight becoming more audible, "Well Ms. Aya, welcome to the beachfront,"
Adrenaline rising. The lights flashing against the night sky. War. They were right behind their lines! Barricades had been popped for safe entrance; but still, Aya could feel the trigger pulls as if the 556 were in her own dirty paws, 'Give me a f*cking go,' she wanted to jump the barrier and join in, 'All in time well spent,' gripping the handles of the Luna tight, 'Don't get too eager about it,'
Pull into the parking, check in, get given the Master Suite. Sure. In your dreams.
)(At The Mirage)(
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on May 13, 2011 15:01:08 GMT -5
Cameron shouldered his new rifle and ammo, growling about having to spend $2000.00 for a weapon that 5 months ago only cost $600.00. But he had stolen 5 rolls of toilet paper and that would definitely come in handy.
The sun was out and it was warm, prompting Cam to take off his hoodie. His vehicle was parked across the street. He looked both ways before crossing the street and then jogged to his car. He opened the back and stashed the toilet paper in the back. then he sat on the tailgate and pulled out the magazines and the ammo. He loaded up both of the 30 rd mags for the rifle and slide on of them into the Ruger. He chambered a shot and put the safety on and then reach over and set the rifle in the backseat. Then he pulled his Beretta out of the holster and took the ammo and filled up his mag and the 2 spare mags. He slide one of the mags into the pistol and chambered and safety it. then he put it back in the holster. the other 2 mags were put into his pack.
Then he pulled off his hoodie and threw it in the backseat and grabbed his Star Wars hat and pulled it on. Surveying his stash, he had a case of water, camping gear including a propane grill, food for the trip, sleeping bag and pillow and his clothes. When it was time to bed down for the night, he would just fold down the back seats and sleep in the back.
Looking back across the road, he saw that the line had grown longer... almost to the end of the block.
"May be Force be with you", he said, as he climbed into truck and started it up. Time to get my dad.
EDIT: 05/16/2011
Cam was about to put the truck in gear when his phone sounded the "Darth Vader Deathmarch". Leaving the truck in park he grabbed it up and looked at the number. It was 1-800-555-1230. He didn't know anyone by that number, but since he was already paying for the minutes, he answered it.
"Hello?", he answered tentatively.
"Is this Cameron Reed?" came back an impersonal female voice.
"Uh, yeah... who is this?"
"I'm Sarah Connors from Allstate Insurance. I'm afraid I have bad news for you. Earlier this month, an 18 wheeler lost control and went through the front of the Dungeon Lair. It exploded, destroying the shop and killing your dad. It seemed that the undead attacked the rig and the driver panicked. I'm sorry for your loss."
Cameron's mouth nearly hit the ground, and his heart felt like it stopped beating. He didn't even have a snappy comeback for the lady's name of Sarah Connor. All he said was, "huh... what... I... what?" He couldn't believe it.
Sarah continued. "Your father had taken out a rather large policy on him and the business and you are the sole beneficiary of them. We have the money for you, a little over $115,000.00."
Cameron's jaw, which was on the floor, felt like it completely melted away and slid down the drain.
"... but with the mail system being the way it is, you will have to come to Raccoon City to pick it up. Cameron.... are you still there?"
Cameron nodded, not realizing that she couldn't see him. Then he said..." Uh yeah, Raccoon City. I'll be there as soon as possible. Where are you located at."
"For the moment we are at the Raccoon City Airport, Terminal 2. You can come there and ask for me. I'll have the money for you."
"Okay."
The phone went silent as Sarah dropped off the other end. Cam sat in his truck looking at the phone, wondering he should try to call his dad. He quickly dialed both the business, cell phone and home phone numbers, and left messages with all of them. He'd wait a few days in Vegas before he headed out.
He would get some answers during that time. Knowing that he couldn't stay in his truck during that time, he decided to check in at one of the hotels. He decided that one of the more prestigious hotels/resorts/casinos would be too tempting and he needed the $1400.00 until he reached Raccoon City. So, in the end, he chose the Flamingo. Putting his car in gear, he pulled out on the nearly empty street and headed off in the direction that he thought was the Flamingo.
[leaving the Gun Store, heading to the Flamingo]
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on May 25, 2011 1:36:25 GMT -5
[Cameron entering from Flamingo Hotel]
"Hey look who's back. It's Skywalker. What can I do for you today, Jedi. We don't carry lightsabers."
The old man at the counter kidded with Cam a bit, but he was used to it. He smiled goofily and looked around the store. It was fairly empty which meant that it wasn't as tense as before. The guards were more relaxed.
"I'm looking for a 9mm, and I have about $600.00 to spend. It also needs to have the ability to attach a few things to it."
The old man rubbed his chin and then waved him over to the pistol counter. For now, they had it to themselves. "With the undead walking again, we don't have much... a few glocks, a sig and then some used guns."
One of them caught his eye. It was in the corner of the bottom shelf... in the used section. "What about that one?"
The old man smiled and reached down and pulled it out. He checked it to make sure it wasn't loaded and handed it to Cam. Cam took it and released the slide and sighted down the barrel. It felt light in his hands, but steady. He looked at the mag... it held 15 rounds.
"So what about this weapon, two extra mags, a tactical light to mount underneath it and a laser on it. Add to that a box of 9mm and I think she'll be ready."
The old man eyed him with amusement. "She? As in 'I'm trying to impress a girl and all I can get her is a gun?'".
Cam shrugged but his face turned bright red. The old man laughed. "I can't help it, I'm a sucker for a hard luck case. Tell you what, I'll throw in a holster all for $850.00 and you got yourself a deal."
Cam smiled.. "How about you through that in and we have a deal", said Cam, pointing to a certain gun in a box. The old man laughed. "Sounds like a deal."
Fifteen minutes later, Cam was putting the gun in the safe compartment with the other items. Then he jumped in the front of his truck and looked at the clock. If Walmart wasn't busy, then he would have just enough time to get the other supplies and get back to Will.
Hitting the gas, the truck lurched forward. He remembered seeing the Super Walmart a few blocks down. Getting food, maps, a few ice chests, more water, first aide kit, some twinkies and a CD of ABBA would complete the supplies.
[Leaving Gun Store... headed to the Zions National Park]
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Mar 1, 2012 4:21:57 GMT -5
Samuel really had to work at keeping his stony expression, eyeing Carl in the rear view mirror with a face that told them that he was dropping a load in his shorts right about now. They concluded the test drive quick enough and forked over the cash, buying all the vehicles that tickled their fancy before taking off again. This time, to the place that Samuel was really looking forward to.
They pulled into the gun store parking lot and stepped out, looking over the store in all of its glory. It wasn’t much. A little building sandwiched between two other buildings that weren’t at all interesting, but the prospect of what it held was the real kicker to Samuel.
He walked to the door and took a look inside, seeing the racks in all their glory. He wanted to savor this…
“Ladies first.” He said as he opened the door, going in after Zoe and instantly walking over to a selection of shotguns.
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Mar 1, 2012 12:56:47 GMT -5
The outside had been sort of a let down compared to the other buildings, but when Samuel opened the door... well Zoe hadn't seen so many weapons. While it was only two stories tall from the outside, it stretched back the entire length of the block. It was also apparent that though the buildings on either side looked different, the owners of the Gun Store had bought them and opened up into them.
And that area was huge… seven floors of weapons.
"Ladies first", Samuel had said, and then he went over to a rack of shotguns, looking at them. "Where to start", murmured Zoe.
She was acutely aware that many of the men in line were staring at her... and her bag. Nonchalantly, she slung it over her shoulder and continued on through the store. Racks upon racks of weapons lined the wall and cases of ammo and handguns were stationed on the floor. Armed guards/salesmen were stationed at each counter. There was an elevator to the right near the rear of the building with two guards standing at it. A staircase was in the opposite corner, running up the side of the building, stopping off at each level, where security guards would stop traffic from going up to the higher levels. She started to figure out that the higher up you went, the more “prohibited” weapons. Zoe could have sworn that the muzzle of a .50 cal machine gun was positioned down on the main floor. At the back of the store there were small rooms where employees entered and exited, usually with guns. That must be where they keep the VIP Rooms, she thought.
She continued to look around, and then walked up to the counter. The man behind it smiled down at her. “What can I do for you, miss?”
Zoe smiled. “For starters, I’m looking for some .38 rounds for my revolver and some .357 magnum rounds… say about 300 of each. Then I need to talk to someone about some additional guns and about safes. Do ya’ll deliver?”
The man nodded. “We do, if the purchase is high enough.”
Zoe smiled. “Trust me, it will be high enough.” Zoe pointed in the direction of the back room. “How much does it take to conduct these transactions away from the prying eyes of the public?” Zoe didn’t want everyone in the store to see everything that they were buying. Word might get out and that would be unacceptable. “I’d also like to see what’s available on the upper floors.”
The salesman turned and waved over another man, older with graying hair and a moustache. “This is the owner of the store. He has to approve you to go up and to use one of our VIP rooms. But I’ll warn you, that is for serious buyers only. If we think you are there just to look around, we will be very peeved about you wasting our time.”
The owner came over and they spoke for a moment. “Can you prove that you came here to buy and not just kill time?” asked the owner.
Zoe pulled up her bag and set it down on the counter with a thud. Then she unzipped it just enough for the Owner to see that it was full of hundreds. His eyes widened slightly and the he looked back at her. “Well, you came to the right place… if that is the real deal.” There was abit of a threat in his voice about counterfiet money.
“Oh it is real alright and with only a few places to spend it, let’s just say here is my first choice.”
The owner reached under the counter and pulled out a key and a badge and handed it to her. “This will get you into Room 4 and the badge will let you up to the upper levels. We can conduct the business in there and if there is anything that you don’t see that you want, let me know… we have some the ability to get things that are unique. Roger here will continue to help you.” The owner nodded to Roger, who smiled and nodded back. Zoe shook the owner’s hand before he moved off.
Zoe took the badge and key and her bag and went to Room 4, unlocking it and looking in. It was a typical room with a couple of chairs, a table and several empty racks for weapons. There was a bank of TV’s on one end and a bathroom on the other. Spending just enough time to check and make sure the room was empty, she dropped off her bag and exited, locking the door. Roger was standing there, waiting for her. “What do you want to see first?”
Zoe motioned around to the entire building. “Everything, but probably start off with finding my partner. He’s roaming around here somewhere.”
“That big guy?” He’s still over at the shotguns. He’s kinda hard to miss.”
“That’s true. Well let’s get him and start with some basic weapons… handguns and rifles, and work our way up the stairs.”
Roger nodded and fell in behind Zoe as the made their way through the crowd to Samuel.
“Yo Samuel”, said Zoe as she approached. “We’ve got a room and a pass up to the more ‘elegant’ weapons upstairs. We should start with a basic list."
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Mar 2, 2012 17:41:19 GMT -5
Samuel stood in awe at the selection in front of him. He loved his 870. It had seen him through a lot of sticky situations. And it had belonged to a friend, a long time ago. But damn it was cumbersome. Twenty eight inch barrel, full ten rounds in the tube. For a guy his size it seemed about right, but it had trouble when he was trying to clear rooms. Something a bit more compact would be nice, and he was seeing something he really liked. A Remington 870 tactical. Eighteen inch barrel, seven round tube, breeching choke, collapsible stock. He was pretty damn sure that this was going to be his in the very near future.
He heard Zoe call to him from across the show room, urging him to a private room, as well as to see the preferred customer stock. He just nodded and, with one more look to the gun that had caught his eye, followed her up to the room. He got inside and saw the empty racks, as well as the empty table and chairs. He took a look around and didn’t see anything hidden, so he looked at Zoe.
“Are they going to bring anything up?” He asked. If this was what a preferred customer got, maybe they were better off doing things on the show room floor.
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Mar 2, 2012 19:26:08 GMT -5
Roger cleared his throat. “It is more to let us know what you are interested in and to see them without the prying eyes of others around. You are free to roam by yourselves, or if you have any ideas of what you want, we can bring it to you. It’s up to you.” He went on. “The first floors are shotguns, handguns, and rifles, 2nd floor holds bladed weapons, 3rd floor hold tactical gear, 4th is automatic rifles, and machine pistols, 5th is Heavy Weaponry, like you’d find on a stationary mount or vehicle, 6th is survellience and 7th…. Well that’s that things that go boom!” Roger rattled off what’s on each floor and then smiled. “So just let me know what you need help with. Floors 5 through 7, you will need me to accompany you. Also, the basement holds most of our ammo and our MRE’s.”
Zoe’s smile lit up as she looked over at Samuel. “I’m thinking right now, that we set up a few floor safes with our weapons in it. We can take a few now and then come back for the rest of them.” Then she turned back to Roger. “Let’s start off with an H&K MP5A2 with a collapsible stock, foregrip, tactical light, side mounted laser, chambered for 9mm with three 20 round mags. I also want two Glock 17s converted to full auto with four 33 round magazines… and a Barret .50 cal should start me off.”
She turned to Samuel. “What did you have in mind?”
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Mar 7, 2012 11:43:10 GMT -5
Samuel listened to what Zoe listed off, and he thought for a moment. “I want that Remington 870 Tactical you have downstairs, first off.” He said. “An Ultimax light machine gun, as well.” He said, remembering the weapon he had used in the military. “Some grenades, C4, some stuff like that.” He added.
“That’s all for the moment.” He said, watching Roger leave to go get everything in order.
“I have an idea.” He said, turning toward Zoe. “That truck we bought. We wont need all of that storage space in the bed. What do you say about a remote controlled machine gun for the back? Open up hatch on the roof of the bed cover, instant heavy firepower.” He said. “If we do it right, it could also be another escape route, if we need it.” He said. To do it they would need to get some mechanic who specialized in custom jobs, but he knew some vehicles had them.
“I’m thinking a fifty cal for the actual gun. What do you think?” He asked her.
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Mar 7, 2012 13:11:42 GMT -5
“Sounds great”, Zoe said with a smile. “I was thinking that beside our own personal weapons, that’d we get 5 safes, all set to open with fingerprints. We load them up with the exact same weaponry so that we know what is in there. One in each of our rooms, and then we station the other three in convenient places.” Zoe knew that they shouldn’t go wild on weaponry, but if they were being pursued, once they had these initial purchases done, then word would get around. If they tried to come back, they might get ambushed. “Each one should contain a few handguns, say either 1911’s or Glocks. Definitely need an AK and an AR platform assault rifles, a couple of shotguns, maybe a Saiga or one of those Daewoo’s SASS… and definitely a machette or two, and small explosives and ammo for all weapons. Then I would also like to set up each vehicle with a cache of a handgun and a carbine.” Zoe went over and tapped on one of the monitors. It displayed a selection of floors. She chose one of the floors and pointed at it. I’m also going to need some better clothes than this, and some tactical vests and harnesses. Also, stocking up on the MRE’s they have here would be a good idea. Vegas is doing well now, but how about in 3 years.” Zoe kept going through the screens, falling silent. In her mind, she was making up a list of weapons they should get and what other things they would need. Silencers, maybe a crossbow, survellience equipment… the list was getting longer, and more expensive. Roger came back in, followed by another employee. They sat the MP5 and the Glocks on the table and thenput the Shotgun on one of the racks. Then they put the Ultimex 100 up on the next table. It had a bipod and the other employee set down 4 beta mags for it. “What else?”
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Mar 13, 2012 7:36:22 GMT -5
Samuel listened to Zoe plan out some more, nodding the whole way in agreement. Stock up now while they could, that was a good idea. He was going to say as much when some staff members entered with what they had ordered. He went quiet and looked at the Ultimax in front of him. He walked over and ran a finger over the receiver of the weapon. He shot a glance up to the man they had talked to earlier and after a slight nod, picked the weapon up. The familiar heft, the feel of the grips in his hands, the sheer ergonomic point-ability… It brought back fond memories.
“Oh, I missed this…” He said. “To the good ol’ days, with good friends and a budget.” He said with a smirk. He put the weapon down and looked back at the group of men.
“What do you have in line with a fifty caliber machine gun? And, we need a few other things. Some explosives. C4 or Semtex, some grenades too. And of course, a couple hundred thousand rounds of ammo, total.” He said. He watched someone writing it down on a pad of paper, and Samuel looked back over to Zoe.
“Anything else for the moment?” He asked. He then looked back up to the man in charge.
“What’s our bill up to, anyway?” He asked.
|
|
|
Post by Rhinn on Mar 13, 2012 17:54:04 GMT -5
Before Roger could tally up the bill, Zoe started to rattle off the weapons that she wanted.
“We will also need 5 floor safes that each hold 10 long guns and the door to hold 7 handguns, all bio encoded for our fingerprints only. Within each one, we want the following weapons – 2 AR-platforms, built for tactical use, shortened barrels and the such, foregrips, laser targets and night scopes. Each one needs to have 5 beta mags… 2 AKM’s with folding stocks with 5 regular mags, 1 Mossberg 500’s with a pistol grip and extended mag tube, 1 Saiga 12 with 4 drum mags and shortened barrels, 1 TSAR21 bullpup, and then 1 Barret 50 cal sniper rifle. For the pistols, we need 2 1911’s, preferably Kimber or Para-Ordnance and 2 Glock 21 with extended magazines for each. Round that out with a large frame revolver in the .44 mag caliber, and a MasterPiece Arms Machine Pistol chambered for the .45 ACP with a couple of 30 round mags.”
She took a breath and smiled at the Roger, whose eyes had widened at the request. He didn’t say anything, but just nodded and looked over at the other associate who was writing it all down. Then he turned back to Samuel.
“Sir, we have several M2’s, along with tripod, vehicle, or stationary mounts. We also carry M60’s, M240’s and even have an m134 minigun… for a price. Speaking of your current bill, if we add in all that weapons, without the machine guns, it will bring you to just over $96,000.00.”
Roger had a smile on his face. Zoe knew it well… it was the smile of someone who was about to sell one hell of a load of guns… and make a pretty penny on it. “If we add in the machine guns and ammo, the laser targeters, plenty of extended magazines, cleaning equipment, then we would be close to a quarter of a million dollars.” Roger nodded to the other associated who took the list and left the room. Then Roger turned back to Samuel and Zoe.
“Why don’t we go to our explosives floor? C-4 will be there, Semtex as well. Also, though they are quite expensive, our collection of grenade launcher and a few RPG’s are there.”
Roger motioned to the door.
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Mar 25, 2012 6:33:45 GMT -5
Samuel was nothing short of giddy when they gave the options for everything. He was caught between the minigun and the fifty cal. Either had their uses. The minigun could be fed with a continuous supply of ammo that numbered in the hundreds of thousands. The fifty would tear anyone a new a**hole, whether they were in a Ford Focus or a Sherman tank. They’d talk that over later. They didn’t have enough cash, or enough cargo space to take all of this with them right now.
They were led to another room, this one with all manner of nice s*** that would turn someone into strawberry jelly on the pavement. He liked it…
“How much do you charge for the Semtex by the pound?” He asked. They’d be getting Semtex. It was superior to C4, but C4 was a bit cheaper. If the Semtex was way too expensive, C4 would do in a pinch, but still…
|
|