The Syndicate

[Aubs]

What the hell is with these losers, Asher asked himself, as he once again had been verbally assaulted by one of the four horsemen, War. This dude thinks that because he’s like some type of cyborg that he’s all badassed and shit. I have half a mind to believe that Guilford beats them. Yep, I’m convinced he beats them and deprives them of food, which is why they have no choice, but to be complete douches. Asher’s mind wandered off as he was supposed to be listening to War as the jet they were on soared through the air. He just had no use listening to someone who was probably badmouthing him anyway. Plus, he didn’t want to end up like he did earlier with Pestilence. He found it would be for the best for War if he didn’t respond back. I could kick that guy’s tin can ass in a second! He thought, as a voice from the speaker sparked his attention.

“We are over the target area and the mission and the mission shall proceed now.” The voice announced as Asher began getting a little tense. This was really happening. He would be face to face with Gwyn in a matter of minutes now. He found himself getting nervous as War spoke, “Guilford says you get two minutes to talk to her before I go in,” the robotic man laughed. “Better make sure your clear or I might nick you with a bullet or two?”

“Wait, what?” Asher spoke out, confused some. “Why only two minutes? What if I get down there and she says nothing? Tha-th-that’s not part of the plan! Guilford never told me about any time minutes!”
“Times ticking little man.” War insisted, tossing a parachute at Asher.
Soon enough, the young man found himself flying out of the plane and soaring through the air. As he came further and further down, Asher saw the café Gwyn was supposedly stationed at. Strangely, it had been a café Asher had been at before. Actually, it hadn’t been that far away from the old headquarters. “I really needed o take a plane for this shit?!” Asher asked himself aloud as he got closer and closer to the ground. When he got closer to the ground, Asher tried to direct himself to the sidewalk, but he had little control what-so-ever. "No, no, no no, nooooo.." He called out eventually soaring into the trunk of a yellow taxi cab. Falling off of the cab, Asher groaned. “ow. Damn cab.” He slowly picked himself up and took off the parachute and made his way over to the café. He ran into the café and seconds within being inside, Asher saw Gwyn's face in one of the tables near the far left end of the building. She had been seated with the dark hooded man from earlier with Rosa and another man Ashe hadn’t been familiar with. This.. is it He nervously thought to himself, smelling the aroma of coffee and bagels.

Asher immediately rushed over to the table and grabbed Gwyn by the arm, lifting her out of her chair. “Gwyn,” he confidently spoke, looking her directly in the eyes. “What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this?”

[Weremouse]

"Asher...I'm on the good side now. Asher, please understand. Asher, did you know what they did to me?" she stuttered, thinking of a plan while using his name a lot - a thing many people found distracting in a good way.

Gwyn knew that they may or may not be screwed. If Asher knew where she was, this meant Guilford had probably sent several Acolytes after her, Cyrus, Seth, and the newcomer Louis. She’d probably have to step in. As good with words Cyrus was, she knew Asher, and she knew how he would react to things better than most people in the Syndicate.

“Asher, I...Asher, I’m sorry.” Gwyn said, her voice cracking with emotion that had nothing to do with the words she was saying. She managed to force a few tears out of her eyes, thinking about how long the Syndicate held her prisoner and how much that hurt her, how she had no parents anymore, how she hadn’t ever had a boyfriend before, and the small happy hope that she would be free soon. All this pouring out of her eyes, it was quite convincing.

Working for a corporation as dangerous and criminal as the Syndicate had turned her into quite the little actress.



“Asher I –“ her voice cut out into more of a sob. She threw herself at him into a sort of hug where he had to react quickly to get his arms around her. She made an effort of pressing her breasts into him, knowing that if he felt them he’d probably forget everything he had against her, all his loyalty to the Syndicate...all that would be flushed away, replaced with the desire to sleep with her. Gwyn knew her looks didn’t matter since Asher was so...desperate in his way. She sobbed into his shirt for a little while, determined to sell the act, when she broke off, pushing him into a chair that was conveniently placed behind him. Her tears vanished and were replaced with a rage she didn’t actually know she had.

“HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU NOT HAVE NOTICED HOW SAD I WAS TRAPPED IN THAT FUCKING BUILDING?!” she screamed, while simultaneously walking towards him and slapping him across the face.

“I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS BUT YOU WERE TOO BLIND TO SEE HOW FUCKING DEPRESSED I WAS WHILE THE SYNDICATE WAS STEALING MY LIFE AWAY!”

She forced more tears to come back and sat down on top of Asher.

She put her head on his shoulder again, and continued crying. She moved her head so she was looking backwards, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and mouthed to Cyrus and the others

“Go.”

She turned back to Asher, and without uttering a single word (though he looked like he might be trying to say a few) she kissed him.

She didn’t really care whether or not he was surprised or pleased (Gwyn would probably feel more accomplished if he was more on the pleased side, but you can’t win ‘em all, and the whole goal here was simply to distract him so they could get away.
When Gwyn noticed Asher wasn’t kissing back (perhaps he was shocked, perhaps confused, perhaps just not feeling it) she pulled away gently and stared deep into his eyes, careful to block his vision of anything but her angelic face.

[Vale]

Cyrus quickly shot a glance to Louis, nodding with his head in the direction of the back kitchen, then passing the same glance to Seth, sitting a few tables away.

If one was leaving, they all were. If that meant Gwyn was to be captured by the Syndicate it was the best situation for it. In fact, Cyrus was planning on it to happen that way--he knew Asher wouldn't kill her, the guy was too much of a pansy to pull the trigger. But the Syndicate wouldn't send just one to do the job--unless it was that Miero Clone. Fucking Schizophrenic children with overzealous mindsets.

Upon entering the dish washing area of the Kitchen, He waited for Seth to get there then smiled.
"Gwyn is going to get captured. I fed her a tracer in that coffee. We're going to follow her and that nancy boy with the small dick and and then get her back once we're able to bug him. No doubt they'll check him after he gets back, as they know Gwyn would try to bug him. Seth, do you have any means to generate magnetic fields capable of disrupting and and repelling most iron or steel slugs. I've a feeling we're going to need it." Cyrus spoke, grabbing his Inter-Pol Locked phone and sent the same request to two other contacts.

"Once Gwyn leaves, we wait 10 minutes, then pursuit. Got it?" Cyrus spoke as he gazed back. "Louis, if you don't feel like violence, I suggest heading out. There's the smoking room in the back and the back door behind there. Go if you wish."

[Grimn]

War watched excitedly as the bright red numbers slowing counted down. “3..2..1” he thought in his mind, his face breaking into a huge smile. With a large whoosh the large metal mountain was catapulted out of the cargo bay of the plane. He fell, reaching his terminal velocity in seconds. Below him on the street, cars wizzed in and out of their lanes, each car jockeying for position ahead of one another. A yellow taxi sped ahead of the car in front of it and was then promptly crushed by the mountain of steel that had fallen from the heavens. As the smoke cleared War rose up from the wreckage of the car and looked at the small café ahead of him. “Times up little man, you should have been quicker” laughed War. The man pulled the twin gatling guns out and attached them to his arms. The metal plates extended themselves and the guns were braced quickly. For a moment all was still as War gazed at the faces of the other patrons of the café. He knew the targets were in their somewhere, he just had to bring the whole place down to find them. The stillness was broken as the gatling guns began to revolve. Suddenly the space between War and the café was filled with lead as the gatling guns spat the hot lead out from their barrels. War began to strafe back and forth across the café, the bullets ripping into the concrete and molding. Smoke began to fill the air, pieces of the café beginning to fall to the ground and holes forming in the walls. The metal storm ended as the click of the barrels could be heard. The smile on War’s face disappeared as he realized that he was out of ammunition. “Well that was short lived” said War. “Time to leave I suppose” said the man, the Osprey landing behind him and opening its cargo bay. War looked one last time at the café and the two shoulder plates he wore moved to the side. Missiles rocketed from their pods and slammed into the building. “That should be enough” commented War, turning and lumbering back into the plane. The plane began its ascent and War radioed into Guilford. “I have taken care of what you said. Verification of the target’s death could not be confirmed” remarked War. The man closed his eyes and rested in his dock as the plane made its way back to the headquarters.

Guilford listened as he received War’s report. He turned to Miero to relay the news. “War has done his mission although the death’s of the target could not be verified” rasped Guilford. “And to the matter of gaining those that are loyal” began Guilford. “I have my four horsemen that are completely loyal to me. Also the Acolytes comprise two fifths of the Syndicate’s membership so that aids us greatly. Each and every one of my Acolytes is loyal to me and my cause” remarked Guilford. “The more important task is to gain the loyalty of the higher ranking members of the Syndicate. “I have something that I must take care of but I believe that we need to get Rosa on our side” rasped Guilford. He turned to Miero to await her reply.

[PsychoKath]

"Yes, Rosa's aide is most important... but I fear it shall be difficult to gain. She seem's to be quite loyal to my mother, though I hope she is more loyal to our cause," Miero began. ANd as she opened he rmouth to continue, a voice sounded in her head- a voice void of pretty much all emotion.

Sister, you need to have a spy in mother's allies. Rosa would do nicle- especially since mother is already convinced of her loyalty, Mirage suggested. Miero nodded and began thinking how best to contact Rosa without mother suspecting- then Mirei popped up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all Miero! And shame on you Mirage for suggest such a thing! She RAISED us! How can you forget such a thing as that? No spies, no nothing! You must stop what you're doing! Miero sighed at her sister. She was so sentimental. As Mirage and Mirei began to argue inside her head, she felt it nessecary to put in her two cents.

"No, Mirei I agree completely with Mirage. Something must be done, there is no way to get around it. Things carried on as they were for long enough as it is," she said aloud, forgetting momentarily that Guilford could hear her. She then turned to him and gave a partial explantation. " Mirage suggests that we keep Rosa in mother's midst for awhile as a spy- we'll need one there and if Rosa joins our side we'll have a spy ready made. Mother already truts her- as much as that woman can trust, anyway."

[Gafe]

Oh, how magnificent, he was actually part of an anti-Syndicate group. How he had dreamed of this, his name would once again shine over Luna's. If successful, Louis would regain all Saul took from him. Exciting, it gave him something to live for again.
While Cyrus discussed the plan to follow, the lawyer (who'd been retired for the past years) threw glances back at the tables. He was quite impressed with Gwyn's performance with the. . . whoever he was. He didn't look too much like Louis expected a Syndicate member to look. It was quite possible a man of his looks would fall for Gwyn's act. Then again, he knew better than judging a book by its cover.

The Valentine Assassin asked him a question then. From his preivous cases, Louis Silvan knew how to pay attention to two things at the same time. Gwyn was more interesting than what Cyrus was saying (and the man had quite a mouth on him), so his eyes were on the girl, and his ears on the killer.
"Not this time." He answered, "I want to see what you guys can do."
Louis would've continued by saying he'd follow Seth and Cyrus from afar, but there was one minor inconvenient that prevented him from doing so. The building was showered with bullets at a moment's notice.
And it also exploded.

Next thing Louis knew, he was in the floor, covered up to the ears with dust. He scrambled through the floor uselessly when his hands found a pair of glasses. His sunglasses. The lawyer wasted no time in putting them back on, even if they were a little broken. His second realization was that someone's leg was on top of his and soapwater covered the floor. Just what they got for meeting near the dishwashing area.

"What a way to begin."

[Aubs]

Before Asher could utter out another word to Gwyn, he was forced into a chair by the young woman. Her voice cracked, as tears slowly cascaded from her brown eyes. This Gwyn definitely wasn’t the same woman Asher had found himself getting accustomed to over the years. In fact, as he’s eyes met with her’s he didn’t see the same shine in her eyes he had always seen when the two hung out previously. There was a light and air about her that was so pure, so innocent. All that seemed to have subsided though for someone much more mischievous. Maybe she had been playing this part during her entire time in The Syndicate. Asher recalled many confessions she had told him. Gwyn of course hadn’t had many friends when she was younger. It had also been revealed that although she was extremely good at math, that she hated it with a passion. There were so many talks the two had had together that made Gwyn seem almost like a sister to him. He knew practically everything about her, however, there was a piece of doubt he had inside his head that said she had lied about it all.
Asher had been ready to confront Gwyn once and for all once she had sent the other two out of the room. He had been ready to give her a piece of his mind. He had been ready to reveal the rat, who had crossed his company. “You seriously-” As he talked, he felt her lips touch his. Gwyn had kissed him. She had really kissed him. This was quite awkward seeing as she was the last person Asher had sexual chemistry with. He felt as if this was incest and he was kissing a sister he had never had. He didn’t kiss her back. He let her continue smooching him until she would notice that he hadn’t taken interest in her. It was so gay of him to do, seeing he loved contact with females, but he had to do this.

Sooner than later, the room was rushed by bullets coming from War’s weapon. Asher immediately shoved Gwyn out of his way thanks to the distraction and ducked onto the ground. There wasn’t any way that he was going to lose his life thanks to a bullet.
“Hell no!” he screamed, falling toward the ground. “This motherfucker is absolutely nuts! Motherfucking cybertronic douchebag!” He looked around for Gwyn, but she was nowhere to be found. Luckily, he had made it out of the building on time and onto the dock of War’s jet. Ash hadn’t even bothered to complain about War shooting at him. At least not for now. The site of the café going up in flame was much more important. Inside his mind, Asher had been a tad bit worried about Gwyn’s, if that was even her name, well being. He sighed to himself, then looked to War.

“So what now?”

[Vale]

"Better Soap than Blood. Besides, if any blood was spilled by any of us, the bleach, soap, and chemicals from the dishes would make sure it couldn't be traced to any of us. So you can thank that dishwater for saving your ass, Louis." Cyrus spoke, as he kicked open what was left of the back door.

"Frankly, I'm surprised they sent two, merely riddling us with bullets seemed to have been their overall end game, but if so..." He paused to think as to why the man was sent in to begin with at all. "They were testing to see if they could find the traitor...pausing as he thought about Gwyn.

"I do not know if she made it out. And Frankly, I'd much rather not like to have another encounter with whoever or however many people were firing on us." He sighed gazing around the corner of the building, a relatively strange looking pistol drawn.

"Focus on getting close enough to them, Seth!" He barked a quick order to the Mercenary with them.
"Track them."

[Grimn]

War just looked at Asher before turning away and closing his eyes. “What was the point of any of this” he wondered. He was always like this right after finishing an assignment. He lived for the battlefield, for bullets to be whizzing by him and for explosions to envelope him with their warm embrace. The normal activities of day to day life simply did not interest him. “Be quiet for once little man” muttered War, his eyes remaining closed. After a short while the plane landed and War wandered off into the hangar to be re-armed and his diagnostics taken.

Guilford continued to stare out across the landscape, his arms crossed in front of him. “Miero what are we to do about the detective that is being sent after us” asked Guilford. “Although I have confidence in my horsemen, I do not believe such a messy tactic would do away with him completely. To be blunt it was merely a show of force, a way of telling them that we will not tolerate any of his foolishness” remarked Guilford. “I have made more arrangements in order to protect ourselves from this” he said. “Now Miero how do you propose we gain Rosa’s aid?” asked the man.

[Gafe]

OCC: *Is waiting on YUGI or JAYA*

[Weremouse]

((*claps hands like a wannabe drill sergeant trying to take control:
OKAY PEOPLE! LETS GET THIS SITE MOVING! :-D YAAAY))

Gwyn fell to the ground as the bullets rushed through the walls of the cafe.

Well, that was awkward. she thought, crawling army-style, hiding behind tables and booths and darting between shields during the short breaks between the bullets. She spotted her new "cult" near the washing machine and just as the explosions stopped, she reached their area. She realized she was now covered in soapy water.

Damn. she thought, annoyed at the discomfort. Her thoughts were superficial and surface at the moment, distracted by the bullets and loud noises.

"Hi." she said simply to her new anti-Syndicate group.

"We should get out of here."

And with that, Gwyn stood up, tried and failed to dust herself off (being drenched, not dusty, that didn't really work) and walked though the back hall to the alley exit.

[Gafe]

Louis looked at Cyrus, a big disbelieving glance right on his face. Oh, how perfectly suicidal! Yes, yes, quite, it probably was the price that came with being in a four-man team against a worldwide criminal organization. Then again, it was quite foolish to put their lives in danger as simply as that.
Fine then, they were going to track down the bulldozers and the boy who'd just blown up a café. Maybe a world-renowned assassin knew when to take chances.

Still, Louis wasn't so sure.

As Gwyn popped up, the lawyer looked at her. She also seemed quite shaken, physically, by the explosion, but not wounded. She was very much alive. He followed her to the alley exit, wondering if they'd live to see the next day. Although. . . wasn't that a helicopter?
Perfect. Now how were they going to track a freaking helicopter?!
Louis SIlvan sighed to himself.

[Det Treybore Valentine Killer]

Cyrus gazed around them and pulled out his phone, which of course had severe water damage from the accident in the cafe.
"Fuck." He spoke, smashing it against the wall into 4 different pieces. "They probably would be tracking it anyway." He spoke, as he looked at them all, then back to the helicopter.

Gazing back to the bloodshed murder attack scene, he walked back into the Cafe with one thing on his mind---a phone. A Hardline to be specific, one grounded, one tappable, but not wirelessly.

Picking up the receiver, he dialed three numbers, 9-1-1, and waited for his response.
"Emergency Dispatch? What's the Emergency?"
"...there has been an accident, Gangland shooting, possible deaths, many injured. 914 South 10th Street. Yes, that's right. My name is Detective Treybore, I'm with InterPOL, the SPD has my name and information. Send ambulances, and I need a log for all of the airspace logs, I need to know what birds are in the sky." Cyrus spoke, crossing his arms waiting for the dispatcher to finish his request.
"...Sir, we only have reports of Sea-TAC flights, and a private charter."
"The Charter, where was it sent from?"
"...McNabb Air Force Base."

The line cut out, it didn't matter to him though. Cyrus had the target, or at least a possible one---they would need to scout it. Going military would be tough.

Stepping back into the alleyway, he sighed.
"We're going south a bit, out of the city. McNabb AFB is located south west of us, in a place known as Lakewood." Cyrus spoke, crossing his arms. "It's the location for where that plane carrying your friend, the flamer, and the gun crazy troop that was outside of them." Cyrus spoke, gazing up again to realize the plane and helicopter were long gone.

"We have less than 2 hours. Let's move."

[Grimn]

Guilford walked down the subterranean hallway, Pestilence and Raphael trailing slightly behind him. After a short journey Guilford turned and entered into a briefing room. The room used to be for the briefing of pilots before a flight sortie. Now the room had been outfitted for the planning of Guilford and his associates. A large table sat in the middle of the room, a three dimensional map projected the surrounding area of the airfield. Acolytes busied themselves with tasks as they ran in and out of the room. “Pestilence I have the feeling that we will be welcoming visitors soon” rasped Guilford. “Miero is busy taking care of other matters so it is up to us to prepare a welcome for our guests” continued Guilford. “I want Famine to set up in position here” said Guilford motioning to a point on the map. This should provide him with a clear view of the entire airfield and allow him to provide support if needed. I also want War to be re-armed and ready to go in the event that he is needed” remarked Guilford. “As for myself” asked Pestilence. “You will be with me until I determine it is the right time to put you into play” remarked Guilford. Pestilence nodded and departed to relay the orders to the other horsemen. “Raphael you will work with the other Acolytes to become as scarce as possible and also jam any transmissions that are attempting to leave this airspace” rasped Guilford. “I want to personally clear any transmission that is attempting to leave this airspace” continued the man. Raphael nodded and turned to talk with several acolytes. Guilford turned and began to walk back down the hallway. “I am assuming that I will be with you throughout the duration of this” remarked the voice that floated beside Guilford. “I have something in mind for you Death” remarked Guilford flatly.

[Eva]

Monica felt a ringing in her ear, and a transmission that quickly followed. She let out an annoyed sigh. "I'll be there." she said. Monica quickly disassembled her rifle and packed it back into its case, a tried and true method that she'd perfected quite a while ago. Carrying the jet-black case with her left arm, Monica descended the stairs of the terminal tower she'd been stationed at. Guilford had finally contacted her, after sticking her in position for what felt like five hours. Normally, Monica could hold a position for days and not feel a thing- but that was when she knew there was an objective.

And now, there was one.

"Hey there, P." Monica said, setting her rifle case down on the flat surface next to Pestilence. She had been told to meet up with him, and Guilford had only given rather vague directions, but thankfully Monica lucked out on her choice of hallways. She never referred to any of the Horseman by their 'names', instead using abbreviations- it felt less creepy that way. "What does Guilford ask of me?"