The Raven Adventurers: New Begining

Paden

Member
Paden winced inwardly. He should have known better than to try to pass off the cagey prospector act. Perhaps the long periods of isolation were finally starting to get to him. Since the mercenary had tagged him, there wasn't any point in trying to pry any information from him. He would be well aware that any inquiry had a hidden purpose. And given the odd actions of the Arabian woman, it was likely that any pursuit of information from her would be equally fruitless. The rifleman had a point, she knew full well about the dangers of a storm like this. And, if she was the cause of all the carnage he witnessed, perhaps it was appropriate to leave her to the fate she chose, despite the difficult memories that urged him to do otherwise. Best to see what could still be seen outside, then find some shelter in the village. Maybe someone there could shed some further light on what had happened, at least enough so he could return to the silent surviellance he was accustomed to.

Paden turned back to the to men. "Gentlemen," he said with a tip of his hat. He couldn't help cracking a smile. "Good advice," he told Deadlock, "I'll give the story some work."

He stepped out into the storm.
 

Deadlock

New member
As Paden opened the door out into the frigid night, Deadlock caught sight of an aircraft?s lights in the sky. The lights were coming toward them.

Deadlock donned his coat again, as he followed Paden out the door to get a better look at the incoming plane. ?Is that guy trying to land in this? He?d have to be crazy...? as the plane neared the runway, Deadlock noticed that the plane was on fire, ?...or he doesn?t have much choice.?

The plane?s landing gear was only partially deployed when it touched down on the snowy runway. The body of the small aircraft swerved and skidded, before the landing gear snapped off.

The plane slid on its belly through the snow and through the side of the unoccupied hangar. Deadlock winced, expecting an explosion. When the explosion didn?t come, he started running toward the flaming wreckage of the plane. If there were survivors, they?d need help quickly.
 

Paden

Member
Paden had no time to think, his feet carrying him toward the burning aircraft alongside Deadlock. No time to think, only react, the flames steadily rising in the midst of the heavy snowfall. He and the mercenary reached the passenger door of the craft, buckled by the impact and open at one seam. Together, the two men wrenched the door open, allowing entrance into the fiery plane.
 

Deadlock

New member
Deadlock was first into the inferno. He made his through the flames into the cockpit. The sharpshooter shielded his face from sparks flying from the smashed instrumentation with a gloved hand. An Asian looking pilot sat limp and unconscious in his seat, his face covered with blood oozing from several deep gashes in his badly bruised face. As Deadlock started to unfasten the wounded man?s seat belt, the pilot came to and started to weakly fight off the mercenary, moaning something vaguely defiant in Japanese.

Deadlock tried to reassure the pilot, ?Hold on. I?m going to get you out of here.?

The pilot seemed surprised but reassured that the dark-clad gunman was speaking English, ?Doctor Fleming?? he gasped.

?What? No, I don?t know a Doctor Fleming,? Deadlock responded as he cut through the man?s seatbelt with his utility knife. That?s when the sniper saw the piece of shrapnel pierced through the pilot, virtually nailing him to his seat.

Both the mercenary and the pilot knew that he only had a few seconds to live. The pilot?s bloody hand pressed a small envelope into Deadlock?s palm.

?Save the child,? the pilot gasped with his final breath.

Deadlock whirled toward the rear of the plane. Through the rising flames, he could see an unconscious girl, who looked to be about 10 or 11, slumped in a seat toward the rear of the burning aircraft...
 

Tom Jones

New member
As the flames rose into the sky a quite conversation continued on close by...

Tom scratched the back of his neck and responded, ?That?s what I?m counting on. After all he is the one who sent me up here in the first place.? The adventurer leaned forward in the wooden chair as his last encounter with the British curator flashed through his mind. ?He wanted the museum to fund my journey up here, but I knew better then anyone that the museum was in enough dept as it was.? Jones rubbed the protruding scare over his right eye as he continued with the recollection. ?I told him to hold onto to his money, he?d need it if I didn?t come back. I am one of the only archeologist?s under his employment right now.?
 

Paden

Member
As Deadlock had made for the ****pit, Paden had headed into the smoke filled cabin, quickly spotting the plane?s only passenger: a young girl, no older than ten, apparently unconscious, blood oozing from a cut on her forehead. A quick glance at her delicate features confirmed that she was Asian. Paden wasted no time, cutting through her seatbelt with his hunting knife. As he did, he noticed an oddity: an intricate tattoo, an image of a serpent or possibly a dragon, woven from her wrist to the back of her left hand, and around to her palm. ?On a girl so young?? he couldn?t help thinking as he lifted the child from her seat, holding her to his chest. Squinting from the thickening smoke, he turned seeing Deadlock stepping away from the pilot, who was motionless in his seat. Paden dashed back through the cabin, flames licking at his clothes, his nose and throat burning. Right behind Deadlock, he ran from the conflagration back out into the blizzard, the frigid air like a sharp blow on his overheated skin. He kept moving, shielding the girl with his arms, putting as much distance between them and the plane as he could.
 

KDuncan

New member
"I doubt Marcus'll be able to tell you.. I'm not sure if anyone knows, besides the man in NYC." KDuncan said musingly.
 

Deadlock

New member
KABOOM!

For the second time that day, a massive explosion echoed off of the mountains. The detonation of the aircraft?s fuel tore through the empty hangar, launching pieces of the plane and bits of the building all over the airfield. A flaming and mangled chunk of the airplane?s tail sailed just over the heads of the fleeing trio.

Paden was still carrying the girl, as Deadlock trudged beside him back to the warmth of Eddie?s hangar.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the gunman muttered. He elaborated when he got a skeptical look from Paden, "This plane crash was no accident. I glanced at the fuselage on our way in... it was chock full of bllet holes." Deadlock looked at the innocent features of the wounded and unconscious child, "Somebody wants this girl dead."





*note: sorry for the use of "bllet", I know full well how to spell B-U-L-L-E-T but the new filters apparently take exception to mention of bovines of a masculine nature: "****et" (see what I mean?) :)
 

Paden

Member
Paden digested the revelation from Deadlock as they tramped back to the hangar through the growing blanket of snow. As they entered through the broken doorway, Eddie was standing in the middle of the room, his expression a mixture on pensiveness and anger. As he opened his mouth to speak, Paden cut him off, ?You have a first aid kit, or some kind of medical supplies?? He nodded to the child in his arms. ?This little girl needs some attention.? Eddie nodded wordlessly and left the room to retrieve the supplies. Paden gently lowered the girl onto a nearby couch. He examined the wound on her forehead, gratified that the cut was not deep, silently guessing that the blow to her head had not been forceful enough to fracture her skull.

Paden turned to Deadlock. ?I reckon you must be right about someone wanting to hurt her. Take a look at this,? he said, pointing out the tattoo to the gunman. As Deadlock scrutinized the girl?s hand, Paden spoke again. ?I can?t help but think that if that plane came down here, whoever shot it up probably isn?t that far away. The storm will likely slow ?em up, but I imagine they?ll try to get here just as quick as they can.?
 

Deadlock

New member
Deadlock nodded gravely, ?I was thinking the same thing.?

A few minutes passed in silence, each man absorbed in his own thoughts. Deadlock silently wondered why he was getting himself involved in this. Rescuing people from a plane crash is one thing. Tangling with an unknown enemy on behalf of a total stranger? That was something else. Very out-of-character for a mercenary... or a typical mercenary anyway. However, the gunman knew that his tendencies hadn?t changed...





Four years ago, he was still with the SWAT team. After his shakeup the previous summer, he?d lost some of his macho sniper bravado, but not his edge. He trained harder, spending hours at the range, shooting hundreds of rounds every day. His aim now exceeded ?uncanny? and was headed for ?inhuman?. In addition to weapons training, Deadlock studied: criminal psychology, combat tactics, and history... even philosophy. Anything to give him an insight into the scum he hated and the world that produced them. Still, the vision of the dead hostage at the bank robbery haunted him.

A Saturday afternoon in March found Deadlock in a confessional in St. Joseph?s Cathedral in downtown San Diego.

?Bless me Father for I have sinned...?

?Xavier is that you again?? the elderly Hispanic priest interrupted.

?Yes, Father Carlos.?

?You can?t keep coming back here every week confessing the same thing, especially since I?ve already told you that it was not a sin.?

?I thought that lifelong repentance was a good thing,? Deadlock teased.

?Que bueno!? the priest responded with mock elation, ?I?m glad to hear that at least one person is listening to my homilies.? Father Carlos quickly returned to a more a serious tone, ?Give God?s grace a chance to work, my son.?

?I could have saved that woman. I failed.?

?Failure and sin are not the same things, Xavier,? the priest said patiently, ?Our intentions make a difference. To sin, you must will to do something contrary to the moral law. I don?t believe you had that intention.?

?Thanks, Father,? Deadlock mumbled noncommittally.

The sniper exited the confessional and out the doors of the Cathedral. As he climbed into his car, he noticed clouds gathering into a rainstorm, a relative rarity in southern California. The Cathedral was only a few blocks away from the 5. Deadlock had just merged into highway traffic as the first few drops of the storm started to land on his windshield.

His cell phone trilled in his jacket pocket while he tried to find the seldom-used wiper controls. Deadlock didn?t even have to answer the phone to know who it was. The distinctive ring-tone meant that this was an official SWAT call.

A little while later, Deadlock was back in his SWAT uniform, this time in a crummy neighborhood in southeast part of the city. It was another standoff. A smalltime coke dealer had holed up in his rundown little house when the police had come to arrest him. In desperation, the man was using his own family as hostages in an attempt to negotiate with the police.

As Deadlock arrived on the scene, he saw Hannah, looking strained and talking on a cell phone. He didn?t doubt that she was doing her best to bring about a peaceful end to the situation. In a few minutes, the sharpshooter was in position, the light rain soaking through his BDUs. He scanned the windows for a shot at the drug dealer inside, but they were all covered with curtains or blocked by furniture.

?Rifle one. I got nothing.?

At that moment, the target emerged from the front door. He held his terrified toddler in front of him, brandishing a short-barreled .357 pistol. The man hurried toward his car parked in the driveway. The police captain on the scene ordered him to freeze.

Hannah dropped her phone and snatched the bllhorn away from the captain, and pleaded with the fleeing man, ?Please, let your daughter go! You don?t want to-?

Without warning, a thunderous shot rang out. Hannah gasped in horror. She was sure that the little girl was dead. She was pleasantly surprised to be wrong. Instead, the toddler was on the ground, but otherwise unhurt. Her father and captor had released her as his lifeless body collapsed. The back half of his head had been blown off by a .300 magnum bllet exiting his skull.

As pandemonium replaced the silence that had gripped the scene following his single shot, Deadlock considered the upcoming consequences of his actions. The disapproval of Father Carlos, he knew he?d earned, honestly bothered him more than the police inquiry he knew would come. But the sniper didn?t care. The bad guy was dead.





?I won?t let anybody hurt you,? Deadlock whispered to the Japanese girl, repeating the vow he?d uttered just before taking that fateful shot four years earlier.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him, which he voiced to Paden, ?I wonder if Ameera has a way out of here??
 

Magda

New member
Ameera cursed Deadlock. If he had not destroyed her SUV, she would have been well on her way to Kathmandu by now. With the storm and lack of transport, she was trudging through thigh-deep snow drifts in what she hoped was the direction of the village. She squinted through the slit that remained after wrapping her scarf around her neck and head with the parka hood tightly tied in the front. There was nothing but white swirling around her.

As much as she hated to admit it, Ameera was freezing right down the core of her bones. Years of traveling and professional training never could accustom to the inhumane conditions of the Himalayas. It was difficult to believe that this was a place on Earth, where to the southwest laid the world?s largest and hottest desert and to the east was a smattering of tiny tropical islands.

The Arab woman wondered why she agreed to even come here ? oh, yeah, the seven figure sum that had been wired into her bank account. If she did not make her delivery in the next few days, her account would not only be frozen but wiped clean, thanks to her new client?s ?friends?. She suddenly found herself missing the days where her ass was on the line for a bigger cause, even if it was for the sham of a central intelligence agency. Life seemed so much more simple back then.

Ameera stopped for a moment and listened to the screaming wind. Where was she anyway? The ground beneath her felt as if it was going downhill. That was impossible. The village had been built around the airfield, which obviously required flat land for its runway. There was that hill that sloped down, leveled off for a few yards, and end at the edge of a cliff.

The layer of snow she stood on cracked and let out groans of movement. Ameera remained motionless as the millions of thoughts in her head suddenly disappeared and her mind came to a moment of almost exhilarating clarity.

SNAP!

?Oh sh??
 
Frowning at KDuncan's assumption, Ben's brow furrowed, his ears lifted. What was that? Under the howling of the snowstorm he thought he barely heard some kind of faint, distant rumble. He shot up and quickly headed to the vast opening of The Raven, sticking his head out. He growled. As long as it had taken to warm up, in an instant, snow and wind socked him in the face. After a brief recoil, he held his arm against his head, and squinted out into the storm. It was impossible to tell where the rumble had come from. He was only able to see a couple of feet ahead of him. It was fortunate that the wind wasn't blowing into The Raven, or they would've had big trouble. He shook himself off, and headed back to Tom and KDuncan, beginning once again the slow process of warming himself. In reply to their questioning looks, he said, "Thought I heard somethin'."
 

Tom Jones

New member
Jones set his mug on a table beside himself and crossed his arms. He was starting to get frustrated, but it wasn?t his companions around him that were bothering him. Tom cringed as the blizzard slammed against the side of the tavern, the force of the wind shacking the walls around them. He was surprised the old place was holding up at all. Looking to KDuncan he asked bluntly, ?So who is this guy suppose to be anyway? I hope he isn?t some old guy that sits around all day reading old books. I?ve run into a couple of those in my journeys, let?s just say they aren?t as sharp as they?re made out to be.?
 

KDuncan

New member
KDuncan paused momentarilly searching for the best words to describe the man. "He's the kind of man that hangs with the rough crowd, and normally shoots first and asks questions later. Quick tempered; and darn hot headed. That's what my operatives tell me anyway."
 

Paden

Member
?It?ll grow back!?

Paden, who had been absently rubbing his clean-shaven scalp dropped his hand in his lap and turned to Carlisle, a glum expression on his goteed face. ?I know it?s gonna grow back. Been reminding myself of that for the last three months, every time I put a razor to my head.? He sighed. ?I guess I?m just ready for this to be over with. Promotion or no promotion, I sometimes find myself wonderin? why I let Abbot talk me into this.?

A mischievous grin crossed Carlisle?s youthful face. ?They needed a convincing redneck. You know, someone that you would actually believe would marry his cousin.?

Paden just looked at his partner, his expression a mixture of irritation and amusement.

?Look,? Carlisle continued, suddenly serious, ?if it all goes down like it?s supposed to tonight, we?ll have Singleton in custody in less than an hour. Then it?s all over except the paperwork and the testimony. Then you?re out of this racket, and you and Kate are off to D.C.?

Paden nodded. ?I won?t lie. Part of me?ll miss the field. The action. Not these undercover gigs. They?ve never been my thing. But kicking in doors, pulling in bad guys, stacking up the weapons. I?ll miss it. But, and you?ll figure this out one day, once you get hitched, you really want to settle down.?

Carlisle smiled and nodded. Paden adjusted his earpiece, his shoulders tight with anxiousness. A lot of people had confidence in Espinoza, the young buck over the tactical unit, but Paden had heard from more than one source that he had a tendency to be overeager. The radio was silent. He leaned back in the passenger seat, his eyes momentarily studying the beat up dash of the Ford Bronco the two men occupied. Absently, he wondered where the ATF dug up vehicles like this. Still, between the truck and the white supremacist paramilitary look he and Carlisle were sporting, he had no doubt that they looked the part: extremists with a hunger for firepower.

Carlisle interrupted the silence with a question. ?How long have you and Kate been married??

?A year next month.?

?Man, time flies. Is it true you went mountain climbing on your honeymoon??

Paden nodded with a grin. ?I took her up Rainier. She hasn?t been climbing near as long as I have, so we didn?t take one of the challenging routes. You need to try it sometime. Once you?re up there, I?m telling you, your whole perspective changes.?

Carlisle snorted. ?There?s no way you?d ever??

A voice filled Paden?s earpiece, his hand going reflexively to his ear. ?Boots this is High Tower. Target is one mile from the rendezvous point.? Paden nodded at Carlisle. ?Time to go.?

Both men were silent as the Bronco pulled out of the tall grama grass onto the hard packed, caliche farm road, headlights illuminating the starless night. Carlisle drove at a steady sixty, the dirt road providing a rough ride. After ten minute of jostling, the abandoned cotton gin came into view. Paden scanned the area as they drew close. On the far side of the gin, both parked against the deteriorating metal wall he sighted them: two navy blue Suburbans, Singleton?s delivery caravan. Paden pulled the earpiece from his ear and tossed into the mess in the glove compartment. As Carlisle brought the truck to a stop, Paden picked up the worn briefcase from the floorboard.

They stepped out into the cool South Texas air, making their way into the interior of the dimly lit gin. Just inside they found Singleton along with four of his thugs, milling around an old card table with a Coleman lantern on top of it. Paden silently noted that even when he was casually dressed, the man still oozed of money and arrogance. Singleton smiled as they approached. ?Lyle,? he said, ?glad you could make it.? ?Mr. Singleton,? Paden answered with a smile of his own. One of Singleton?s men approached, and patted Paden and Carlisle down, looking for weapons or wires. Finding none, he nodded to his employer.

? I know you?re a busy man, Lyle,? Singleton said, ?I don?t want to keep you from your cause. So what say we get down to business? The money??

Paden raised the briefcase to chest level and opened it, giving the blonde arms dealer a view of the cash inside. ?Excellent,? Singleton said with another grin, ?Let's step outside and take a look at your merchandise.?

Paden nodded. The men started as a group toward the door. Before they could reach it, another of Singleton?s men came scrambling through it, breathing hard. ?We?ve got company,? he wheezed. ?Vans, coming in fast.?

Singleton turned, his eyes meeting Paden?s. In that instant, Paden knew that any fast talk was a waste of breath. Their cover was blown.

--------------------------------------

Deadlock?s question drew Paden back from his memories. The Arab woman? Paden thought for a moment as he glanced back at the unconscious girl, suddenly struck with the impression of how fragile she looked, like a ceramic doll.

?Well, I guess the only way to find out is to get back out there and find her.?
 

Deadlock

New member
?Hypothermia, here we come,? Deadlock grumbled, as he pulled his black watch cap onto his head. He gestured toward the girl, ?Keep an eye on her, will ya Eddie?? Before he got a response, Deadlock lead the way out into the snow.

The gunman surveyed the snow just outside the door. ?Those are our tracks,? he said pointing to an indistinct jumble of footprints leading from the still-smoldering hangar wreckage. ?But that trail,? he said pointing to a gentle groove in the snow leading toward the village, ?is probably the one we want. Anything older than a few minutes would have already drifted over completely.?

The two men followed the trail that they hoped had been left by the Arab woman. The storm had lightened up slightly, allowing for a noticeable increase in visibility. Before long, they realized that the trail wasn't heading toward the lights of the village. It had veered away, leading downhill.

?Looks like Ameera either got turned around in the storm or...?

A loud crack interrupted the conversation! Deadlock and Paden froze in their tracks, hardly daring to breathe.

?Avalanche,? Deadlock whispered, earnestly hoping that he was wrong.
 
"Great," Ben said sarcastically, trying to supress a grimace. With a sigh, he looked outside, relieved to see that the storm was beginning to thin out. It wasn't an extreme relaxing, but enough that he could see further out. This time with sincere optimism, he said, "Maybe we won't be grounded for too much longer after all."
 

Tom Jones

New member
?I hope you?re right Ben, I?m starting to get sick of all this cold?? Jones leaned forward startled for a moment by his reflection in the glass mug on the table next him. Grabbing the glass he cradled it in his hands.

He had been without the company of his reflection for more than a month?maybe even longer; he had a hard time remembering because few of the places he had been in actually had mirrors. Now that he had a chance to get a good look at himself again, it seemed as if a stranger stared back: thinner than he remembered, badly in need of a shave and haircut, and with lines in his face that were more that just products of wind and snow. The scar over his right eyebrow seemed more distinguishing then it used to be and his keen jade eyes appeared coarser and more distinctive then when he last stared into them.

He was a changed man now, for better or worse he didn?t know. He?d been through a lot, more then any normal man should. Tom could feel his past catching up on him, his star falling through the sky.

Soon he would have to make a choice, the result leaving the archeologist empty inside or filling him with a kind of hope he could never dream to understand. Jones shook his head and lowered the mug.
 
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