Road-Worthy: A Role Play of Vengeance

DeletedUser

"CIA? Some fed crap. Either way, you want info on Al, you better clean up in there before the cops get here. Come into my apartment. We'll talk," Derek said as he put the gun away."You haven't tried to shoot yet so I'll trust you. Long as you keep your piece away from my girlfriend. Take it out or point it at her, I'll blow your brains out before you can even re-direct the damn good."

Derek turned around, put his 90two away, and took out the key. "So you want to be a man and put the gun away or do you want to go to shootin' eachother's guts out? I've taken a bullet before, hit men don't come cheap," he said.
 

DeletedUser

"I need to check this apartment out, before we parlay. I'll knock when I'm ready." Jack withdrew into the kitchen and shoved the Automag into it's holster, this was getting sttranger by the moment.

Taking a pair of gloves from a drawer, Jack pulled them on.

Jack began by checking all the cupboards andd drawers in the kitchen. It was a very normal kitchen, coffee mugs were held on a wooden peg and the dishes were in the dishwasher. The refridgerator was filled with milk, eggs, cheese and an assortment of ice cream. In the cupboards were boxes of cereal.

As Jack retreated from the kitchen, his hand bumped into a box of Raisin Bran he had sat on the counter. The box plumetted to the floor and burst at the seams. A white powdery substance spread all over the kitchen floor. Damnation! He thoguht, kneeling to observe the powder closer.

Jack came to the realization that his friend had become a drug addict. He shook his head sadly.

As with the kitchen, the living room appeared completely normal aswell, it was the bedroom that nearly made Jack's stomach turn.

In a boneless heap in the corner, was Albert Corer's dead body. Blood pooled around him , issuing from hundreds of cuts, made with a small bladed knife. Both of Albert's legs had been busted at the knee, so badly that bone showed through hideous tears in his flesh. Extensive burns covered Albert's chest, where small trenches had been carves into Albert filled with cordite and then cooked off with a match or lighter, whoever had done this was an talented amateur.

Jack couldn't bare to look at his friend anymore, so he looked away and tried to ignore the smell. He quickly looked through Albert's room. He was headed to the door when he spotted a scrap of paper crumpled and thrown onto the floor.

Jack picked up the paper and opened it, it read.

Jack,

You're reading this, so that means that I am dead. I regret my actions in the past, as do many people in our line of work. I was never truthful with you, in the years we'veknown each other, so I will try and get those lies that lay heavily on my heart off here.

The operation in Mexico, it was a complete lie. Bandits were attacking the road, however The Agency could care less about the Mexican's problems, they are only human. We were all, everyone but you, were getting a large piece of th epie from those bandits, until they stopped paying. Then, The Agency decided to send the best we had to get what was coming to us and to do a small favor for the Mexican government. There was never any rockslide, those banditos remaining thought there was a whole division of Army Rangers knocking on their door. I was being chased, but only half heartedly, those chasing me thought they were being chased aswell. I went back to steal the money Enrico Salvatore had held back from us, was extracted by boat the next day.

Now for what has happened here. I'm sorry to say, I'm not the man I useed to be. I called you here, praying you would get here in time to be here when they came for me. You and I could have stopped them, Jack.

I've become a druggy, like those we fought against when we were with the Agency, ironic. I've already got the threats and I know the name of the one who will come to do the deed. Jerome Peters, a small time gangbanger, an all around piece of garbage that doesn't mind killing women and kids when he's getting paid for it. He likes to hang around The Cherry Gentleman's Club, if you're intrested.

All the best, friend,
Albert.
 

DeletedUser

Name: Edmundo Peppe

Date Of Birth: September 11, 1984/Thirty-six/36

Experience: Cocaine dealer of four years and terrorist.

Appearance: Shabby old dirty clothing, baggy blue jeans, and hiking boots. A dark quiet character, Edmundo has a very long, dry, evil face. He stands 6'4 with an sleek body shape. He is not very healthy, but he keeps his body weight in good shape. He is about average weight and has some muscle, but isn't ripped. He keeps himself at his best, even though he is addicted to drugs.

Weapons of Choice: M16 With attachable silencer, USP.

Hometown: Unknown.

Bio: Unknown.

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With his M16 tucked away in the car he pulled his USP from his under seat compartment and placed it into it's holster and also throwing that uner the balnket on the back seat with his M16 as he opened the car door stepping out and shutting the door behind him as he locked it walking towards the bouncer at the door he strolled in taking a seat by a raised platform waiting for soemthing to happen...

After all he was always bored.
 
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DeletedUser

Jack thought for a moment, before stuffing the note into the pocket of his jeans. He turned thinking to himself Might aswell talk to the guy across the hall.

Making his way back through the apartment. Using the tail of his coat, Jack wiped the doorknobs on his way out. Jack gently closed Albert's door behind him. He felt bad, leaving his friend like that, laying in a broken heap. Then again, Albert and Jack had always had the same thoughts towards bodies, they don't matter when the person is dead.

Jack knocked on the door to Derek's apartmment.
 

DeletedUser

Derek opened the door. "Come in. Want a drink?" he said. He turned back around into his kitchen. He opened the cabinet door and pulled out two shot glasses. He put them down on the counter and went to his fridge. He looked around, and behind the eggs and milk was his bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey. He grabbed it and went back to the counter.

"Sit down on the couch. Get comfy. And don't touch my remote!!!" he said. He poured the two drinks and while he did, he asked,"So whats your involvement in all this CIA or FBI crap?"
 

DeletedUser

"I could use a drink." Jack sat where he was told. When he was given the drink, he drained the first half, before looking around the apartment. Through a half open door he could see the shape of a woman laying on a messy bed.

Jack was still programmed to say the canned speech. "I'm not involved with anything like that, I'm a truck driver." is what he replied, draining the other half of the whiskey.

"That's the official speech anyway." Jack said after his throat had ceased flaming.
 

DeletedUser

"Then give me the unofficial speech then kid. If your just a truck driver, I'm just the president of Cambodia. Or dictator. Or whatever those Commie's got," Derek said. He downed the shot glass in the kitchen and left it on the counter.

He walked in with the bottle of whiskey and sat down on the couch. "By the way, what happened to Al?" he asked.
 

DeletedUser

"He's deader then dead." Jack replied "Busted up real bad. Coke is all over the apartment."

Jack watched him sit down beside him. Looking around, Jack took better stock of his surroundings. He could now see that Derek's girlfriend was begining to stir and that, if he didn't avert his eyes he would see all the gory details.

"Jerome Peteres, what a name. That's the one that did the deed." Jack still looked through the door itno Derek's bedroom.
 

DeletedUser

"First, look away from the bedroom. Second, so looks like we're gonna whack a guy," Derek said. He drank some more whiskey and got up. He went towards the bedroom door, closed it, and looked back at the man. "If your gonna be a perv, I don't think you being here is gonna last much longer."
 

DeletedUser

"Ah, you seem to think I'm oogling your partner in there." Jack nodded towards the door Derek just shut.

"Actually. I don't know you. Or whoever is in the bed. For all I know you're the one who killed Albert in there and your friend was under the covers loading an uzi. She may get up at any moment and blow me in two with a sawed off." Jack replied. He sat the glass down on the table in front of him.

"I'm not being a 'Perv', as you call it. I am merely being careful." Jack sat back in the couch.
 

DeletedUser

Kirby poured over police documents in town hall, reading past and present accounts of Police matter, both good and bad.
The bad was worse, and more abundant.
Police Brutality, Police Violate Family..., Deputy Shoots Child, etc.
All headlines which were not at all like how the police should have been behaving.
Things were not looking good.
(Sorry, am just REAALY uncreative right now.)
 

DeletedUser

"Paranoid much? I'm a ex-biker and hitman, not a cop killer. Well, I may be a cop killer, but that was only because that deal set me up for the rest of my life practically," Derek said.

He looked at the man and said,"Either way, you got any info on this guy? If somebody messed with Al, I'm gonna be there to help out."
 

DeletedUser

"This guy, Jerome Peters, he practically lives in a strip club called-" Jack fished the note from his pocket "The Cherry, cute name, huh?"

Jack stood "What about your, girlfriend in there? You gonna leave her here?"
 

Deleted User - 819397

Name: Raeul Carn

Date Of Birth: May of '87

Experience: Intelligence specialist. He knows most drug traffickers and their routes, and knows how to benefit from that knowledge.

Appearance: Raeul is around 5'9". He often wears a hat to obscure his face, and wears jeans, a black shirt, and a blue jeans jacket. However, his most distinguishable feature is the fact that he has no distinguishable feature. He blends in almost anywhere, and often is the last one to be scrutinized.

Weapons of Choice: A Scorpion gun:

scorpion.png


Hometown: Detroit, Michigan

Bio: Raeul was born John Meyer in Detroit. Growing up he had a reputation for remembering everything he was told, and many things he wasn't. Even at an early age he was listening carefully to everything around him, learning things most people didn't. At first, he merely used it to find out which girls liked him (several did), but his average people skills prevented him from getting anywhere. This eventually led him to become a loner, shunning most friends from himself and focusing on learning all he could, however he could. He started a small gang with his closest friends, though, originally selling average candy and the like, but by the time high school rolled around, they were stealing various drugs from the town drugstore.

Eventually John was found out, although he used his friends as scapegoats and escaped clean. However, his name was soiled regardless, so he legally changed it to start his business anew. However, he had decided managing his own business was risky, while muscling in on others' operations, taking small amounts of drugs from secret shipments to further his own operations. He is quite well known, and is actually on good terms with many crime bosses, as an almost friendly competition exists between many of them and himself.

________________________________________________________________

Raeul drove into town and stepped out of his car. He knew that this town was often used as a midstep of transportation between destinations, and was determined to obtain some of the goods himself to increase his already vast wealth. He pulled his hat up enough so that he could see well enough to shoot, and headed for the building he knew housed a large shipment.
 

DeletedUser

"She'll be fine. I leave the lupara with her and trust me, she knows how to handle it. Come on, I know where that place is. Used to go there alot. Met Erin there too!!! She was a dancer!" Derek said with a laugh.

"Let's go," he said as he got up and went to the door.
 

DeletedUser

Jack stood "I hope you have a car."

Rowdy followed his new friend, no, friend wasn't the right word yet, ally, to the street.
 

Deleted User - 819397

Raeul noticed two men leaving the building he was headed for. He sized them up, and decided that they might contain a threat. He grabbed his concealed gun just in case, keeping it hidden.
 

DeletedUser

Derek walked over to his parking place. He pointed to the 2005 Harley-Davidson Super Glide on the left. "That's my spare bike. Take it, ride it. Otherwise, you can jump on the back of mine," he said. He walked over to the bike on the right, a Kawasaki Vulcan with 2,053cc/125cu. in. 52 degree V-twin engines.

He grabbed his helmet, which was based off a racing helmet. It had dual lupara's pointing down in a t-like shape on the left. It was surrounded in roses and on the bottom said,"My Rose and My Protector". It obviously related to his sleeping love upstairs in the apartment. On the right side was a giant Hell's Angels skull. He zipped his leather jacket up, which also had the Hell's Angels logo and MC logo on it. He pulled his pair of leather gloves out of his leather jacket pocket and put them on. He put in the key, revved the engine, and looked over to Jack.

"Ready?"
 

DeletedUser

Jack sighed, before getting on behind Derek. "You got a helmet?" Jack asked
 

DeletedUser

"Grab the pink one off of the spare. It's my girlfriend's," Derek said with a laugh.
 
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