Jacqueline Carlysle Age: 27 5'10'' 132 # Early childhood was spent as an army brat. Raised only by her father (her mother died when she was 4) he taught her his love, the rodeo. When she reached the age of 12 her father died of lung cancer. After bouncing from foster home to foster home she finally made it back to Texas. For the next few years (15-20) she merely survived the streets of Dallas and Austin. Picking up a hard edge she strated to work for herself. Finding a group of professional thieves, she settled in and learned over the next year skills that would profit her. After her second job, she was left holding the bag and her "Friends" left her literally holding the bag. Spending 4 years in prison for assorted charges she just recently got out ready to strart again and pay a few debts... <><><><><> [GM] Mardi Gras is over, and all that's left is the mess. Kind of like your life....getting back on your feet after spending four years in prison isn't easy. You haven't heard much yet about the "friends" who left you to take the fall for them. You're not sure if you want to. Lately, your hangout has been a dingy bar, called Barney's, a block from the apartment you're living in. Its main attraction is a pool table, and Barney. Barney is 6'8" of ebony black muscle. He is the owner, bartender, and bouncer. He's kind of a living legend in this neighborhood. He's been around for as long as anyone can remember, but doesn't look older than about 40. No one ever sees him work out, but he's got the build of a professional body-builder. And he claims never to have studied any martial arts, but there are so many stories about the way he's dealt with would-be trouble makers in his bar that some of them HAVE to be true. Some people think he's a fugitive, although that seems unlikely, as the police have to know about him. Others say he has major underworld connections, which seems unlikely to you. He certainly isn't fencing anything or selling bootleg liquor from this bar. There are, of course, the rumors of Voodoo cult activity, but Barney laughs at those. Some of his patrons are voudon practitioners, no doubt, but he seems ambivalent about religious matters. What you like about him is that he keeps everybody civil in his bar. No one fights at Barney's. No one tries to paw the ladies, at least not more than once. He won't get involved if people want to argue, or drink themselves into a stupor, but if anyone tries to get rough, he's been known to lift the miscreants off the ground with one hand and drop-kick them through the door onto the street. It's not easy to find a bar in the shady parts of New Orleans where a lady can drink and play pool and not worry about being harassed. This evening you park your hog outside the bar and head inside. Barney nods his bald, black head in greeting as you enter. You notice that someone apparently brought Barney a gift to decorate the bar....a large, stuffed purple dinosaur. Barney has it impaled against the back wall. Now you know that spear gun he keeps hanging behind the bar actually works... After a few hours of pool-playing, you sit down and have a beer, chatting with Barney. That's when George walks in. George, one of your old partners. One of the people who left you to spend four years in prison when the alarms went off and you couldn't get out of the house in time. George, who's been free as a bird while you were locked inside the Baton Rouge Women's Correctional Facility. He looks a little older, but otherwise not much different. He walks to the bar and asks for a whiskey, not noticing you. <><><><><> *Georgethatlilratbastardofalltheginjointsintheworld...* Jackie (to her amigos), pounds the beer. *Thatlilpieceoffilth!* Remembering what the prison shrink told her about temper and "getting on in the outside', she takes a deep breath. *Screw that noise* Lighting up a filter tip cigar (if Barney offers a match she take it, she take a drag and think a minute. *Damn, of course he'd come here where I can't knock his lights out. I'd hate to put myself outta here on account of me deckin the bum.* Whispering to Barney, "See the chump who done just come in? Well that's one of them. (If I've been coming here for at least a few weeks, I'll have been straight up with him.) I don't want to break up the place, not that you'll let me, but could you see he don't leave til I jabber a bit with him?" Twisting my chair around so's my back is to George, "Barney, could you tell the gent the lady here would like to buy him a drink, hell give him a bottle (slip Barney a $50 to cover the bottle and any trouble)." While he does this, I'll twist a pool stick in two and save an end under the table. If Barney does do what I asked him to and George sits down, I'llremove my Gargoyles and let it sink in as to who he's dealing with. If Barney doesn't, I'll go up behind and make like the stick is a gun and ask him to come with me for a chat. If George sits, I'll stick the stick to his crotch and advise him not to move. I'm assuming everything is ok, if not below will be the alternate plan. "Pour a drink GEORGE, it may be the last one for a while. I figger you owe me big for not squealing like a stuck pig and getting your a** thrown in a cell. Not to mention 4 years of my life down the tubes...Drink up!" I'll prod him another for good measure. "I'ts payback Georgy. Don't go and give me 'I was only the driver' crap. Settle the debt, give me something good and you'll walk," give an evil grin. If he tries and makes a run I'll deck him good with 4 years worth of hurt. I will restrain myself as much as possible to not lose face with Barney and being an ex-con doesn't help much... I'll accept any contacts he may have and press him for the whereabouts of the others (Poncho, Jesus Morales and Topper). If Barney doesn't help, or George runs out, I'll give chase and try for some privacy. If he resists I'll knock him down. He always was a wimp. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] Barney says "If you have a beef with him, talk all you want, but if you want to start breaking things, including him, take it outside." He hands George the drink, telling him it's complements of the lady. "Hey, thanks honey-" George says to you with a smile, which freezes on his face as he recognizes you. "Oh sh**." You jab the pool cue into his crotch as he starts to rise. Barney frowns and gives you a warning look, but turns his back to straighten up the bar. You have no doubt if things get out of hand, he'll be in your face in a second. But George doesn't know that. "Jacky, it wasn't my fault," George whines. "You couldn't get out in time, what was we s'posed to do, hang around so we could get nailed too? It's not like I set you up, you just got unlucky, it happens!" <><><><><> "Luck had nothin' to do with it darlin'. What I recollect was an alarm goin' off. One I didn't set to screechin'. Then I found myself with a bag of swag on the front lawn with cops drawin' a bead on me. No car. No Topper. No Jesus. No Poncho. AND NO GEORGE!" Jab him hard for emphasis with the stick. Just thinking about throws Jackie into a blood red rage. "That's not unlucky, that's betrayal pure and simple. To further back up this hare-brained idea is...well I don't recollect seein' your scrawny a** on visitin' day. Hell, friends would have least likely set a girl up right in the joint with a few pay-offs out of her share. So no care packages nor visits to let me know I done good lookin' out for my amigos. I do recollect bein' up to my neck with whacko bitches. I do recollect avoidin' playin' pattycake with those horny sumbitch prison guards and bein' put in solitary for my stubborness. I also recollect not cuttin' a deal with the DA to throw your scrawny a** in prison." Blow smoke from cigar into his face and try to keep control of my temper. "So partner, you better do some recollectin' of your own or I'm goin' to visit four years of holy hell on your scrawny a**. What did you spend my cut on? You can start with some answers slick. Why and where are the rest of crew? After that, you can start tellin' me how you is goin' to pay me back for savin' your skin and payin' with my own. And don't call me JACKIE, a**hole!" <><><><><> [GM] "Maybe you should have another drink?" Barney's voice, deep and very slightly menacing, rumbles through your building fury. He sets a glass down in front of you. Icewater. With effort, you pull back a little on the pool cue. George resumes breathing, then gulps down some of his whiskey and says "Topper got pinched not long ago- I wasn't there fortunately, but he's in prison, he tried using a gun this time. I ain't seen Poncho in a couple a' years. I don't know where he's at. Really!" "Umm, Jesus is still around, but he's into real rough stuff now, workin' for drug runners. I don't think you wanna mess with him, Jacky- I mean Jacqueline!" he gulps hastily as you grip the pool cue tight again. "He went for the big bucks, and that means big nasty Cubans with shotguns an' AK-47s." "I don't have any more of the money, Jacqueline. It's all gone, really. I didn't get much out of it in the first place, just bein' the driver. And the biggest haul was what you got caught with, after all..." his voice trails off. <><><><><> "I didn't expect you to give you money...I guess that's the only coin you understand. I'll tell you what. You must have a few connections here in town of some sort. You show me around and give me some introductions, we can call it even. I'm lettin' you off easy George, don't forget that." I'll assume george has made at least one contact/friend in the underworld. If so, I'll tell him to meet me here at noon tomorrow to get it over with. "George, we was family once, but if you betray me again...I swear, I'll kill you this time." Give him a hard stare and drink the icewater trying to stay my shaking hand. If George doesn't have anyone he can introduce me to or anything more about the further whereabouts of the 'gang' (what state or prison, etc), I'll let him go. "George, don't count on me bein' this nice next time. I see you again, well use your imagination. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] George says, "Yeah, no problem Jack...queline. I, um, I know a good fence, y'know. He knows all about what's up on the streets, but he's an independent, no Mob connections. If you wanna get back to, uh, the old business. And who's who on the streets...I guess you want ta stay away from the Mob, right? I'll take you around tomorrow, no problem. I didn't betray you, really I didn't!" The next day, he's there, at Barney's. He takes you a few blocks farther into the French quarter, until you arrive at a small corner grocery store. George takes you inside, and a young Chinese man takes the two of you into the back room. An older man, also Chinese, is unpacking pickle jars. He looks at you skeptically while George greets him as Mr. Wang, and introduces you as "a really great second story girl". "George," Wang says, with a Texas drawl, "Y'all are really an idiot!" He peers at you. "Wassa matter, missy, y'ain't never seen a Chinese feller in the French Quarter?" <><><><><> "Sure Wang, alla time," wink at Wang and smile. "Remind me to tell you all about George's dependability sometime." Light up a cigar and take in the rich tobacco smoke. *Much better. Do I really want to keep doin' this biz? I should be in Bermuda sippin' good old Cuervo Gold. I have the money and all, but is that what will make me feel alive after 4 years in a box?* "Wang, it takes some cojones to set up shop in a Mob town, but I like that. Screw the Mob. You want some clout hirin' talent like George and me is your only chance for survival. I'm not a nutjob, I can handle myself and NEVER rat on my partners...George can tell you about that Right?!" "My cut for any job is 60%, down to 40-45% if proper recon and backup is given. My preferred marks are residential and preferred pickups are coins, stamps, bonds and stones. I have an eye for junk and the real thing, so you never need worry about me wasting your time fencing my takeout." Crack knuckles and look Wang up and down, the same he's doin' to me. " George is a standup guy and I'm sure he wouldn't mind walkin' me through the first scenario so's you know i'm not a rat/informant/stoolie. I won't beg for a I got plenty of cash to keep me comfortable, but I am good. Now if you aren't interested, I'm sure the Mob is...." <><><><><> [GM] "Sure they'd be interested....and if they're feeling generous, y'all MIGHT be allowed to keep a third", Wang retorts. "George, yeah, he's a good kid. For a moron." Wang picks up a box of canned soups and shoves it into George's chest. The latter man staggers under the load with a 'woof', and Wang tells him "Take this out to Jeff, make yerself somewhat useful." You notice that Wang handles the heavy box with little effort. Muttering and grumbling, George shuffles out into the store. Wang turns a critical eye back on you. "Nobody ignores the Mob here. Ah have an...'understanding' with them. First of all, the main thing ah can do for y'all is make sure ya don't hit someone who's gonna take serious offense at it. Round here, there's a dozen different groups y'all don't wanna mess with, 'sides the Mob. The Families'll just kill ya...they's some groups hereabouts that kin be a mite bit more creative. But I'm sure y'all've heard rumors. Ah happen t'know that some of 'em're true. Don't y'all be askin' me which ones, though." "Ah stay partikularly out'a wetwork. An' if'n you wanna deal with me, don't be bringin' me anythin' that's connected to a homicide. If y'all're really as good as you say, y'all don't need to be carryin' guns or causin' injuries, raht? I figger if ah ever get sold, ah don't wanna have accessory to murder or nothin' like that added to mah charges." "Ah don't never wanna see or hear nothin' bout drugs. Ah don't care what y'all do in private, but don't bring it here. Ah don't deal with'em in any form. An' by the way, put out that cigarette in mah store!" "Now just what's the story with you'n George, an' howcum he brought you here? An' why now? Y'all don't seem like his type, if you don't mind mah sayin' so." <><><><><> "Ask a lot of questions don't you Wang? Fine, I'll be straight. The reason George brought me here is because I asked him to. You see, I got holdin' the bag a few years back and if I wasn't a pro his a** would have just gotten out instead of mine." Take a long drag off my cigar and put it out on my bootheel. "I learned four years ago the talent is the ones to get burned while the management gets off. I don't know what you have goin' here, but I'm not just lookin' to be talent. I could probably go freelance and make a heap of cash bouncin' around from group to group. I'm lookin' for a home, something to build on. I got more in common with you than the Mob, bein a Texican. I ain't into wetwork, only protectin' what's mine. I ain't into narcotics, except smokes. I don't even own a gun. If you have to shoot your way in to grab a purse, that ain't talent, that's havin' a gun and half a brain. So my rundown. I'm new on the scene and not expected. I don't spill the beans to save my own neck. And I have some salable skills and willing to work with you and yours." Reaching into my boot, I'll take my money clip out and toss it to Wang. "I'll need gear in any case; black nylon rope, a good set of picks, bolt cutters, stethoscope, grapplers, super glue, glass cutters, hairspray." There's 1k in the clip. "I agree some of this junk is easy to get, but why connect anything to me if not necessary? If you want me you can find me Wang. If you have a job let me know the details and such. You can catch me at my apartment or Barney's." I'll leave and find George. If I find him, "George, you want a steady job workin' for me? I still don't forgive you, but I could use your help. You'll get 5 C's a month and a cut of any haul and you work for ME." If he says "yes", I'll tell him he can buy me a drink at Barney's. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] Wang frowns, and says "Ah usually 'spect the "talent" to provide their own equipment...but ah guess ah kin arrange somethin'. S'matter of fact, ah got a good idear what y'all can do to start with. A trial run, sorta. Ah'll be in touch." George looks surprised at your offer, but says "Sure....did Wang offer you a job? What's the mark?" You roll your eyes, remembering that George never was the most subtle or clever person. But he takes you up on your offer to buy you a drink. So you wind up at Barney's again the next night. <><><><><> Play a few rounds of pool with George at Barney's. Drink a few beers, but not enough to lose my head. Basically, ask about what George has been doin' with his life. Catch a table and a break from pool, "George, don't think this makes everything just cause you'll be workin' for me. You will be doin' a job and that's it. You want friendship and respect earn it. I always thought of you as an older brother, but that didn't last long did it now?" Light up a cigar, "As pathetic as it sounds you're the closest thing to family I got left. Everyone else is dead or gone or in prison. If you want to screw me over do it now and get it over with, I'd hate to start trustin' you again." Ask for another round of drinks, water for me. "Basically, what you'll be doin' for me is part time bodyguard/gofer/go-between. Not too hard. Can you use a gun? Got a permit? You definitely need some help in improving your ability to protect yourself. Tomorrow night we'll hit the gym and I'll show you how to take a punch." Smile wickedly at George. Look at the TV with genuine suprise, "George is that some kind of joke?! Flying people? Who the hell is Deathstorm?" Ask for another drink, some tequila this time. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] "Ain't you been watchin' the news at all?" George asks. "There's like real-life superheroes showin' up, just like in the comic books!" At the look you give him, he says "No, no, I ain't kiddin'! Ask anyone! There's this guy in California that can fly, and he picked up an oil rig, 'cept now's he's in Israel! An' he just fought this Arab guy who was throwing razorblades all over the place and killed a bunch of Israelis and even shot down some fighter planes. And some guy in France s'pposedly can control weather, an' he's demanding a ton of money or he's gonna destroy Paris with a hurricane!" George shudders. "It's weird....people like us are NOTHIN' compared to them. I hope there's some good guys, like Superman, or we're all gonna be helpless if one a' them decides to take over the world!" "Oh, get real!" someone nearby says. "There ain't no 'super power' that can let one person take over the world, when an army can't do it now!" "Ah think it's awl a hoax!" another one says. "Y'kain't tell me that they's any such thang as a flaayin' mayn...it's just them media freaks wantin' ta sucker us lak they did with that moon-landin' nonsense..." * * * * * * * * * * "Hey, I can take care of myself!" George protests indignantly. "I've been on the streets the past four years, and I'm still alive, aren't I?" What he's been doing the past four years, you learn, is generally being a stoolie, lookout, bag-man, etc. for whatever shady operators needed a pair of expendable legs. He doesn't have the brains or ambition to move up, so it's likely that left to himself, he'll just be cannon-fodder for whoever wants to use him, until his luck runs out. <><><><><> "George, I want you to look into renting some warehouse around here for a base of operations. Somewhere to crash and do a little training w/o prying eyes. Maybe with a garage. Find out what it'll be, but drive a hard bargain. I'll pay up to 1k/month. Meet me tomorrow at the gym, we'll do a little sparring." Give an evil smile. Walk home from Barney's. Get back, take a shower, get a night cap and hit the sheets. Then meet George at the gym at late afternoon. Show him a few basic fighting moves, won't pull any punches. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] George doesn't look too enthusiastic about the training, but he takes your money readily enough. He meets you the next day, and tells you he found a place right on the edge of the French Quarter, for $500. When you go to look at the place, you see why it was so cheap....it's a run down warehouse with a leaky roof and at least a decade's worth of accumulated debris and rat droppings piled up all over the floor. You take some of your irritation out on the poor fool at the gym. Finally he holds his hands up and says "That's enough! Jeez, prison just made you even meaner than before!" Sitting down on the bench, he says, "I talked to Wang today. He says he got an easy mark for us. Some guy with a taste for artwork, goin' on business ta Europe. Wang says this guy's a putz, mixes good stuff with crap, he wants to see how discerning your eye is." <><><><><> Glare at George, "At least there's some good news." Look over the warehouse noting any maintenance problems. More pissed off with what it will take to clean and fix, it will be perfect with a little elbow grease. "George, I want you to look over this place and give me a by the numbers report. You're good with your hands...see if the plumbing, heat and hot water work. I hope you didn't think you was goin' to keep the other half of the money for a finders fee..." Get some padlocks, chains, black paint and get these windows fixed up. Cleaning supplies would help, unless you want to sleep in rat sh**..." Give him a smile, "Yup, we're stayin' here, so get used to it. I'll be back in a few hours with some idea of the job. it isn't an easy mark until I say it is." Go to Wang's shop and finish my cigar out front, then go in. Ask Wang what kind of recon he has for me if any. Also, what kind of artwork (period, artists, etc.) and more about the mark. See if he was able to pick up any of my goods. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] Wang has a box for you, with black nylon rope, lockpicks, bolt cutters, a stethoscope, grapplers, super glue, glass cutters and hairspray. And a set of picks, but not a great one. "Ah don't use the thangs mahself," Wang says, when you frown. "If ya wanted quality ya should've got it yerself. In th'future, y'all better keep yerself supplied, ah ain't a purchasin' agent." "There's a gentleman named Richard Napes, lives at 124 Red Orchid Court. Rich dude, major stockholder in half a dozen companies. Fancies hisself an art collector. He buys everything, authentic T'ang Dynasty pottery, classical impressionist paintins', ivory carvin's from Africa, plus knockoff gewgaws that look purty and ain't worth crap, and the latest 'in vogue' works from New York, like them bozos ever had an idear of real art. 'Course, he prolly also has some certified stocks and bonds lyin' around, if y'all can figger out where he hides 'em. Yew any good at crackin' safes? They's one in his bedroom, behind the mirror." "He lives alone. Fer security he relies on a couple 'a mean dawgs and an expensive alarm system. Shouldn't be a problem fer yew." "Ah'll give you yer 60% on the bonds, but ah take 60% on the artwork. Unless y'all can seperate the good stuff from the junk yerself, and know where to sell it. But ah guarantee it, some a' his pieces are worth beaucoup bucks, maybe more'n you'll get from the paper. You'll wanna 'specially keep an ah out fer Chinese pottery an' any ivory, but don't bother bringin' me any a that 'modern art' garbage, ah'll just use it to wrap fish. And 90% of anythin' ya see that looks like 'authentic Native American jewelry' is prolly made by some old geezer sittin' out by Highway 66." <><><><><> Before leavin' ask Wang how long Mr. Napes will be gone for. Thank Wang for the goodies and leave for the public library. At the library, do some research into T'ang Dynasty pottery and ceramics and Impressionist paintings. I'll leave the other stuff to my judgement, I mean I know what ivory is, whether the African stuff is authentic or not, the ivory will sell. Make photocopies of all pertinent info, no point in taking the books and leaving a record. Go to an electronics store and buy two cellular phones with internal memory for numbers. Also pick up two high power binoculars. Do a driveby of Mr. Napes house and get basics; levels of home, neighborhood, yard space, fences, cameras, etc. Hit the bars, try to spot likely criminal types (via conversation, bribes, buying drinks, bartenders, etc). If I find someone, try to get the name of a friendly pharmacist and locksmith. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] You collect the information on the artwork, get your cellular phones and binoculars, and hit the streets looking for the necessary contacts. It takes most of the day, but you get the name of a druggist who's been known to fill out "prescriptions" without a doctor's note, with the right incentive. And a locksmith reputed to be friendly with certain individuals in your line of work. <><><><><> Go back to the warehouse and see what George has been able to do with the place. Ball up my jacket and sleep on the floor, ah memories of prison! Sleep through to late afternoon. Give George a phone and set of binoculars and tell him to get a recon on the apartment (tell him to get the name and model of the security system and see if he can locate the dogs). When he's done, have him meet me at the gym for another sparring session . While he's gone, go see the druggist. Ask him if he's got any dart guns and animal tranquilizers. Something that won't cause permanent damage but will knock an animal out. Meet George at the gym and get a little practice in, see if any of the boxers will go a round or two with me to see how rusty I am. Go to Barney's and review what george has come up with. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] George shoved some of the mess into piles around the warehouse, carried a few stacks of junk outside, and cleared a sleeping area out, but not much else. You chew him out, colorfully, then send him to recon the house. He looks at the binoculars and cellular phone like he's being given a new toy. The druggist says "Dart guns? Lady, I'm a pharmacist, not an arms dealer!" He thinks a moment and says "I don't know why you want to knock out these animals- and I don't want to know!" he adds hastily. "But I do have a tranquilizer that's almost odorless. You can put it in the animal's food, and unless it's been trained to sniff out drugs, it won't notice." Later, you make George pay for his indolence at the gym. You get to spar with a couple of boxers, and find you're still in decent shape, but need some practice. <><><><><> Decide against going to Barney's and head back to the warehouse. Review the information that George has been able to collect on the house. Find out if he looked over the warehouse's facilities, i.e. power, hot water and electricity. Ask him specifically for the system's name, type and model, like he was supposed to get. Paint the window panes black and secure all the doors with chain and padlocks. Have George spend some time cleaning the place up with me or taking care of the electrical stuff. Order some Chinese and review what info we do have. Make up some maps and fact sheets on what is known with approx. distances. Finally, study the artwork info I got until I fall asleep. Next day, have George pick up some stopwatches and a police scanner Go to Napes' house and do a deeper recon. Note entrance points, obstacles to cross, location of dogs. Take notes. Go pick up a few doses of tranq from the "Doc". If I got anything from George concerning the security system's model, name and number go see the friendly locksmith. Pump him for some info on the system, pay him off well, but not exorbitant. Go meet George at the gym again. Practice with him and then get some sparring partners that will make me work at it. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] George didn't get the brand of the security system. "It was, uh, a white box inside the living room. And it had wires to the windows. And I think the fence is alarmed...." Now you know why he was just the driver. He did note that the two dogs, both Dobermans, were fed by a uniformed private security officer who came by the house at about 5 PM and entered with a key. The warehouse has electricity, but no gas, thus no hot water. George, of course, did not think to call the power company to have it turned on. "Well, I don't know how to bill it!" he says defensively. Your own recon of Napes' house shows that it is a fairly large residence, set well back from the street and concealed from neighboring houses by tall ivy-covered walls- both attractive features, as far as you're concerned. The dogs, which seem to be able to wander inside and outside through an entrance you can't see, look very well-fed, very alert, and very toothy. In fairness to George, not many details about the security system are visible from the outside. It looks like a computer model, fancier than what you've seen before. Probably something that's come out since you were sent away. But the control panel is barely visible through the window. All you can tell for sure is that is seems to electronically monitor the entire house, and possibly the yard as well. You don't see any obvious signs of motion detectors or IR beams, but the dogs would probably set those off. <><><><><> Send George out to pick up a Police Scanner, two stopwatches, several maglights and a dog whistle. Call up power company and have them turn on the power. Go to Napes house at late night. Stick a few toothpicks into door lock. While at front look inside to see any useful features and any interior doors. Go back at noon and wait until guard shows up. See what he does and where the dogs come from around the building (back, side, etc) general locale would help. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] At the Napes house, you can't readily go up to the front door to stick toothpicks in the lock, because there is a fence around the grounds, and the dogs have free domain all over it. They sense you at the gate and come running, growling. The mailbox is located outside the gate. The guard who shows up at noon has a dog whistle, which he blows as he unlocks the gate. (You assume it's a dog whistle, since you can't hear it.) The dogs trot solemnly after him, but don't threaten him. He goes inside through the front door. You can see him wandering through the house, from what little view you can get of the interior. He emerges after about ten minutes, and locks up behind himself, then leaves. <><><><><> Call up George on the cell-phone and ask him to bring the dog whistle ver. Give it a try on the dogs. Check the mailbox for a spare key possible mail (looking for security outfits, specifically a bill). Get a name if possible. Go with George down to the gym for another workout. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] George arrives with the whistle. The dogs hear it, all right, and it causes them to growl and bark. Not the placating effect that the guard's whistle had. There is no key in the mailbox, and no mail either. George is getting rather tired of these gym sessions. "Jeez, can't you just beat the hell out of me once, and call us even?" <><><><><> "George quit yer whinin'. How can you protect me when you can't do yourself any good. If I wanted to do you serious harm you'd know it pal." Go see the "Friendly Pharmacist" and pick up some of those tranqs" Go see the locksmith and try to squeeze some better lockpicks out of him. The next day, when the guard gets in the gate, blow on the whistle like there's no tomorrow and see how the doggies treat him. Experiment a bit beforehand, trying simple combos of whistles (three chirps in a row and such nonsense). Pay very special attention to whether I see the dogs in and out of the house while the guard is away. They are big dogs, maybe a doggy door? -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] You get the tranqs from the pharmacist; the locksmith, after much cajoling (and an extortionate price) produces some lockpicks better than the ones you have, though still not top quality. The dogs seem to roam freely in and out of the house. You can't see all sides of the house, so there is probably a door of some kind in the back. Blowing your whistle, in whatever combination, only makes the dogs growl and bark. When the guard arrives, you blow your whistle. The dogs prick up their ears and begin growling. Startled, the guard starts making soothing noises. "Down, boys!" You blow harder, and they growl and bark, running in short circles, not directly threatening the guard, but obviously agitated. He blows his whistle hastily, and the dogs whine, shaking their heads. The combination of your whistle and his seems to be confusing them. <><><><><> Load up a fannypack with gear (maglights, picks, stethoscope, rope). Superglue fingertips. Grab two gymbags from apartment, fill up with newspaper. Soak steaks in tranq solution and wrap. "George this is it. Either a deep recon or actual job. I want you near the house with the phone and scanner to warn me of any cops showing up. Try to do better than last time." As it's about 11pm, I'll wait it out a bit near the house. Find a payphone 10 blocks away. Call the police station. Wrapping saran wrap over the phone, lower voice, "Da people man thet's screamin' at me. They come out of them books and tell stories of how they kill me. It's all over now, I'm stoppin' it. I set a bomb in the library and gassed the books. It'll stop now!" *Let's hope that does SOMETHING* Get back to the Napes home and toss over a few steaks, blow the whistle a few times to get their attention. wait for their reaction. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] The dogs come running, and growl and bark at your whistle blowing. They sniff the steaks, and after some more suspicious growls in your direction, they begin cautiously chewing chunks off, watching you through the fence. After about ten minutes, the dogs start getting sluggish, walk around in circles, and then head inside. You don't see them moving around in the house. <><><><><> Pick the lock to the front gate and put a rock in the depression to keep it open for later. Sneak into the back and look for the "doggie door" *Good thing these dogs are big* -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] The "doggie door" is a large swinging aluminum flap in the back of the house. No sign of the dogs. The flap, now that you see it, is easily large enough for you to squeeze through. <><><><><> Climb through the doggie door and survey the first level. Check very carefully for any wired contact points to any of the doors. Look around on the first level for the safe Wang described. Pull the blade out of my Swiss Army knife, but will not use it on the dogs if attacked. Instead, try to cut them off by shutting them into a room. Call George via phone and tell him to bring some transport a few streets over in case a fast getaway is needed. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] You find the dogs lying asleep on the kitchen floor. You quickly disable the alarm system, then begin prowling the house looking for artifacts to stuff in your bag. Going up the stairs, you come to a dead stop, as you see flickering light coming from what you believe is the study, and hear the distinct tapping of someone typing at a computer keyboard. And another noise...it sounds like the tinny reverberations of a cheap radio. <><><><><> Looking through the dufflebag, I'll bring out the bottle of hair spray and some rope. Sneakin' up to the room I'll try to see what this fool is doing. If this person notices me and tries anythin' threatenin' catch him full in the face with the spray and knock his lights out. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] In the study room, there is a young black kid, no older than 16, sitting at the computer. His face is turned partway away from you, and his smooth, dark features are illuminated in the green flickering of the computer screen. He wears wrap- around glasses and seems to be chewing gum. His own clothes are dark all over, much like yours. He's wearing a pair of walkmans, which is the source of the noise you heard. They must be blasting sound into his ears at a deafening volume. He's tapping at the keyboard and muttering, "Come on baby, give it up, yeah....!" <><><><><> * A Kid! How did he get in?! I must be gettin' rusty, prison ain't been good to my skills. Now Jackie, looks can be deceivin' watch your butt girl* Tap the kid on the shoulder to get his attention and see what his intentions are. *One of those computer geeks. This Napes guy may be worth more than I thought* -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] The kids jumps up when you tap his shoulder, tearing his headset off and springing back, almost falling over the table. "Dammit thought it was the dogs!" he snaps. apparently to himself. "Whothe hellareyou?" He holds his hand out with the fingers pointing towards you, in a gesture you don't understand, but it seems vaguely threatening. And you hear a high-pitched whine emanating from him. <><><><><> "Whoa there buck! It seems you aren't supposed to be here anymore than I am. I'm here for the goods and the dogs are in dreamland. You want to go about your business, I'll go about mine. Weird music pal." Keep an eye out, just cause he's a kid don't mean I won't get plugged one. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] "Goods?" He blinks at you a moment, then sees your bag. "You mean you're just a common burglar? Man, are you clueless!" He glances at the computer screen, then back at you. "Wait a minute, you said you knocked the dogs out, what'd you do about the ultrasonic beams?" Ultrasonic beams? <><><><><> "Umm, ultrasonic beams? I guess I haven't been up to snuff with technology since I got out of the joint. SH**! So, what are you doing here? Clueless? What in THE hell is goin' on here! Are you some sorta computer cowboy? Wait a minute...I did disconnect the alarm system and I have a lookout if an alarm goes off an the cops start rollin'" *I don't need this headache noise now.* "How did you get in? I didn't see anyone." -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] The kid says in frustration "The ultrasonic beams ain't connected to that cheesy install-it-yourself alarm kit by the door! Is that all you did was dope the dogs and pull a few wires? Jeez!" As if on cue, your cellular phone rings. It's George (as if it would be anyone else) saying in a panicked whisper "Jackie a coupla black an' whites just came barrelin' around the corner with their lights and sirens off, get outta there now!" <><><><><> "Kid, how the hell could I set those off, the dogs didn't!? I say let's vamoose quick, unless you have a better idea." make a grab for a knick knack or two and book out big time. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] The young man rolls his eyes. "The dogs have a countertone emitted by a device in their collars....oh crud! What a bimbo!" He snatches a disk out of the computer's disk drive and flips the power switch off. "I coulda got everything! Hopefully I salvaged something useful....you don't even know who you're messing with, do you?" "Neither of you do." The flat voice comes from behind you. Both of you whirl, and see a dark shadow, a silhouette stepping in through an open window that was closed a moment ago. The window is on the second floor, and you don't recall there being a balcony out there. <><><><><> *Bimbo! This kid is fishfood! Um...who is this now? What happened to the good old days of grab and run. When you knew the worst you had to deal with was cops and criminals, black and white?* "What is this...a Shriner's convention?! Kid watch your mouth or you'll be pickin' it up with the rest of your teeth." Spray the newcomer full in the face with hairspray and kick him in the knee. *Drop trou, buddy! Geez I could use a cigar!* -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] You spray the intruder in the face, and clip his knee; it feels hard and unyielding. He wipes a hand over his face. "Hairspray?" he asks wonderingly. Then lashes out with a fist and catches you under the eye, knocking you on your ass. Out the corner of your eye, you see the kid dashing out the door. The shadowy figure looms over you, holds his arms out....and you hear a "snikt!" sound, and see gleaming metal points emerge from his fists. "Wrong place, wrong time, girl." His fist plunges down into your chest, the blades reflecting the moonlight, and heralding your death. Terror. You're going to die. A strange sensation pulses through your body, along with adrenalin. The intruder's knuckles slam into your breast, hard. It hurts, a lot, but it takes a moment for you to realize you're bruised, but not punctured. He raises his fist and looks at it. The blades are gone. "What the hell?" he growls. <><><><><> *This it Jackie no more running. It's just like riding a horse. Like the one that knocked you down, it hurt the same. Daddy laughed, but you were going to do it no matter the momentary humiliation. Humiliation. After getting caught on the lawn with all that loot, guns pointed, cuffed...frustrat- ion. Frustration. Getting beat up in the cell block by psycho bi***** from hell, turning the frustrating stay in the stir to anger. Anger. Now, with the job turning to sh**, cops on their way, whacko boy here beating the hell out of me and my life drawing another lemon. A failure, more time in the box, jerks like this always yanking you around, always with the upper hand. The flame of desparation build up. Flight or fight. The anger turns to a soft burning rage, you going to run girl?* Not worrying about how stupid this is, or the consequences, attempt to launch myself at him and choke the life out of him. -Jacqueline- <><><><><> [GM] A surge of energy goes through your body; you've never felt anything like it before. You notice there seems to be a lot of dust in the air all of a sudden, and the shadowy figure starts sputtering. But beneath his black outfit, he seems to be wearing armor of some kind. You can't strangle him, and kneeing him in the groin succeeds only in bruising your knee. He backhands you across the face and sends you spinning to the ground. You leap up too slowly; he's on you and battering you with almost inhuman speed. You go down again, realizing that this guy is a trained fighter, and better than you. You look around for a weapon, anything, and see only the long, stainless steel floor lamp sitting a few feet from your head. Too long, too heavy. His foot smashes down on your stomach, and you double up, choking. Your attacker makes a strangled cry of surprise, as you feel the lamp moving, how you can feel that, you don't know. Through the haze of pain, you see the lamp wrapping around him like some sort of metal snake. Then you hear a sound like a dentist's drill grinding through your teeth like a buzzsaw while someone simultaneously drags metal nails across a chalkboard. Your head splits under the screeching, awful whine. "Dumb-ass chick!" It's the black kid, grabbing you by the shoulder and yanking you to your feet. "Come on, get your feet moving 'cause I ain't gonna carry you!" He jerks you towards the door of the study and practically shoves you down the stairs, as you stagger to keep your feet.