[M/R] The Unseen: Act 2: Hunt for the Relics (S)

[Mysteria]

DATE: August 20th, 2042
TIME: 2:30 PM
LOCATION: Memphis, Egypt


Isaac slipped his hands around Shiloh’s waist “As long as it’s with you, I don’t mind sharing.” He pulled her into his embrace, kissing her forehead. He meant what he said, even if he didn’t know how long he’d be able to continue sharing with her. She still didn’t know the truth and he would probably never be able to tell her either.

Shiloh smiled up into his blazing blue eyes. He looked tired and she was still concerned that the trip may have been too soon for him even though he appeared to be in good enough of spirits. “We’ve got an hour or two, do you want to rest awhile or go exploring until it’s time to meet the professor. Isaac gave her another squeeze “Mmhmm I’d like to explore you some more.” Shiloh grinned, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. As alluring as the invitation was, it would have to wait until later. “Later babe, two hours with you could never be enough. Let’s go look around, I mean, it’s not like we get to visit Egypt any time we want.

Exiting the hut they began walking around the ruins, observing as pieces of history were gently unearthed by the skilled hands of those working in the digs. Shiloh began explaining some of what she had learned before her father passed, and her continuing obsession with the subject had kept her interested in reading and studying it all that she could. The relics that Kaitlin had described were unlike anything she had ever seen before and she was exited to hear what the professor may know.

As they walked around Shiloh took in the sights and culture surrounding them. The city was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before and actually being there as items were unearthed brought forth from her many comments, ohs, and other exlamations. Shiloh was literally like a kid in a candy store.

She couldn’t help notice the other foreigners walking around the digs, an American man and woman. Perhaps whoever was backing the dig, Shiloh wondered to herself since they were both dressed in business type attire. Strange attire indeed for an excavation.

As they headed back towards their hut Professor Langdon emerged from one of the digs, calling for them and waving “Over here Shiloh and Isaac.” As they walked over Shiloh noticed the small weapon like object in the professors hand. Not dagger like but something that looked like it could have been used as a knife at one time. The glance by the foreigners towards the professor and his group had not gone unnoticed by Shiloh. Even as the words slipped from her mouth Shiloh could hear her mother’s voice in her head Child, some day your curiosity is going to get the better of you.

Shiloh questioned absentmindedly out loud “I wonder who those two are, they look so out of place here.”

[Koti~]

Date: August 20th, 2042
Time: 3:00 PM
Location: Guiliana's room, Casa Del Mar

Stephanie heard the door open, but stayed silent with the soft-ish exchange. To her, everything seemed loud at the moment, like her senses had been given a sugar rush. The thought alone of food made her queasy, but she managed to keep it down, unlike her dream illusion thingy. Feeling other important matters calling her attention, she gingerly got up, her body swaying as if she stood on the deck of a ship. Her vision went hazy for a second; flecks of black and white filling her view before she could stable herself. She slowly walked to the bathroom; her brain feeling like it was trying to push itself out of her skull. She decided to leave the light off, and took care of business, her eyes closed the entire time.
---------------------------------------------

A twist of the handles brought warm water flowing into the sink. Splashing her face, she could feel heat radiating off of her head, which made her curious for a second.

*Maybe I should ask Guilana about it… she might know…* Stephanie thought, staring into the mirror, a brush in her hand. When she had first glanced into the mirror the memory of the dream flared in her head, giving her the same knee jerk reaction to throw something. She had luckily caught herself in time, and didn’t thankfully shatter the mirror. Letting the water run, she stared at herself in the mirror, mostly pleased to see what she looked like.

A thin film of sweat had coated her body while she had slept, making her skin glisten a bit from the sunlight peeking in from the window. Her eyes, though hazy, seemed to be alive, taking in everything she could see, glad to see it. The borrowed clothes clung to her body, the sweat acting like a glue to them while her hair splayed out in a curious bed head fashion, odds and ends sticking out here and there. To others, it would look like she was physically trying to be there, to be alive, as though everything screamed ‘I’m here, I’m alive!’, though to her, she looked like a girl, a bit too skinny for her taste. Finally making use of the brush, she began to run it through her hair, memories of her mom doing it as a child for her. As soon as those thoughts faded, she braced herself for the onslaught of Evalons wrath, but noticed something odd. The usually cold and murderous voice was silent, which made her very happy. It seemed that whatever was making her head feel like a boiling shower was keeping her at bay.

Happy at this new found gift of silence in her own head, Stephanie headed to Guilana’s door. Raising a slightly shaky hand, she knocked twice, two short raps of her knuckles on the cool wood. She waited patiently, a genuine smile finally gracing her face.

[Kris]

DATE: August 21th, 2042
TIME: 15:30
LOCATION: Cassandra's place, Moscow, Russia


She closed herself in the bathroom the minute she got to Cassandra's place. She heard soft knocking from the other side of the door as both Terence and her best friend waited for her to step outside and explain where she was.

Sarina just ignored them and once she decided to close her heart to their pleas, their voices hardly reached her and sounded very blurry, as if they passed through some kind of a filter. She looked aimlessly at the white ceiling above her which was full of holes and cracks, a thing to be expected considering the room suffered from the humidity on a daily basis.

The shower's transparent curtain was half covering the tube, which was built so it covered all of the far horizontal part. A shelf was placed above it, featuring a lone shampoo on it which was put upside down, probably because it was close to be emptied. On another part of the room, a closed white cabin was built over the sink. Sarina could only guess what was inside it for she had no intention of checking it.

She smirked bitterly. Amazing how her attention could have been easily averted if she just so desired it; Ignoring things, forgetting painful memories... Her body changed so much since THAT operation even if she refused to admit it until this very day. It was only thanks to these changing that she was able to keep her mind sane and not go crazy over the dead images of her close friends and her torn apart body...

Gah!!!

She twitched.

And took a deep breath.

There, the memory had been "removed" again.

She gritted her teeth in annoyance the moment the voices outside the door became louder.

Such a nuisance.

There, the voices been reduced with just a tiny effort and her mind was free to consider her bodily changes once again and she did so while gently touching herself; Landing her fingers over her arms, passing them over her shoulders, sliding down to her chest, ribs and finally shivering softly as she rested both of her palms over her stomach, recalling of HIS touch...

And feeling nausea.

Even the fact it was an illusion was not enough to calm her down. She shivered and fasten her hands, hating everything this actor had made her feel and uncover.

"Useful.... Hah....", She chuckled.

She didn't intend to let him win. If she was meant to lose, she will take him down with her.

Funny how this thought brought her the following image; She and her uncle sitting on the table right after her aunt removed the plates with the food they just ate. Her uncle was tossing the two cubes into the board of the backgammon game. He had almost removed all of his white discs.

On that moment he looked up, showing the "Double" result of 3-3 and removed another 4 discs. Technically he had almost won.

He looked at her as he was about to close the brown wooden board when Sarina grabbed his hands, "We play until the last pawn", she said, her eyes closing on his.

He nodded with a smile handing to her the cubes and they continued to play a while longer. Sure, Sarina did ended up losing, but she made sure not to give him a gammon victory by bearing off one of her black discs.

She considered this as: "losing respectfully" and that was always how she liked to play her games. If she was to win she won't brag about it, but if she was to lose she would at least make sure she caused some great damage to her opponent.

She licked her lips with delight, feeling some courage returning to her.

And then she frowned.

Strong people were involved in this game and if the mafia was part of it... There's no guaranty that anyone would live past this point onward. But what surprised her most of all was the fact that she WANTED to play this game; She wanted to uncover her changes and wanted to know about the items and about others like herself, yet that meant placing Cassandra and Terence in danger.

She closed her eyes as she leaned her head against the cold door, biting her lips, cursing her curiosity.

Waves of changes aimed to hurt her and she knew that if she won't do something now things will get worst later... and maybe she won't be able to pull off again like she can now.

She sighed as her body landed gently on the floor as she reached her hands to rub her forehead, realizing that the idea she had in mind was probably the best way get out of this mess while staying in it, at least for her friends, that is. She made her decision with a heavy heart just when she heard Cassandra yelling:

"Fine, stay there, but you owe me an explanation. You better still be here when I get back!"

Cassandra was probably heading to work now or so. Good. It will be easier to explain things to Terence. Sarina waited until she heard the door of the apartment opening and closing with a loud thud.

(Oh boy).

Cassandra wasn't the type to get upset and she would be furious when she found out about her new plan. But there was no choice. She cared too much for Cassandra and she saw firsthand how dangerous this whole situation is.

She slowly opened the door and looked at Terence who had just turned around to meet her. He was about to say something but she silenced him by placing a finger over his lips, "I'm going!", she said, faking a smile as best as she could, trying not to cry.

She told him to help Cassandra move out of this place immediately and ordered him not to let anyone else know where the two of them were heading. She forced him to swear he won't leave Cassandra until she was safe, either with her family, or with someone else. She handed to him some money too and told him to leave Cassandra and get to a shelter too. When he asked her where she will be heading Sarina said she'll find some hotel. When He asked how would she managed she said she had already picked up the basic of speaking Russian and when he looked at her surprised she just laughed it off, saying she was joking.

She held his hands, thanking him for encouraging her to chase the relics and she told him she was sorry for getting him into this mess. Luckily, so she told him, she was in even deeper shit, so they (He asked who are "They") would probably focus on her first, giving him and Cassandra enough time to flee, and by not knowing where the two of them were heading, she wouldn't be able to tell on them.

She won't be a "Krisa", so she told him (And explaining to him that it meant "rat" in Russian).

She gave him one last smile as she walked outside of the door hoping to return to the Island by the end of the week, as promised, as if nothing had happened, back to section G, back to the boring life with Amilia, Tom and Golan.

And maybe even with the star.

(Or maybe going out again and chase after the "Blood Stone" next... )

[~N~]

DATE: August 21st, 2042
TIME: Midnight
LOCATION: Bucharest, Romania

"The boss is going to have your ass," Garrus repeated.

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to wait around while we lose the only lead we've got," Sandler replied. "I'm going."

"It's your badge," replied Garrus with a shrug.

"Look, do me a favor alright?"

"As long as it doesn't involve me going with you..."

"Don't say anything. I'm gone, he wakes up, whatever... you don't know where I am. 'Kay?" Sandler eyed him with concern in his eyes.

Garrus shrugged again and looked away, shaking his head in disapproval.

"C'mon, man. You don't have to say a goddamn thing..." Sandler pleaded.

"Fine, whatever," Garrus mumbled in the affirmative without making eye contact.

"I owe you," the other agent replied as he turned and disappeared into the night.

Two hours later, in the middle of the night, Agent Sandler pulled up, paying the taxi driver discretely as he got out of the vehicle in Brasov.

His eyes narrowed and he began walking towards the ominous castle, which seemed to regain some of its mystique in the chill darkness of the night...

If I were Tansy James... where would I be... Sandler thought to himself, his eyes searching with cautious footsteps.

************************************************** ***********
DATE: August 21st, 2042
TIME: Noon
LOCATION: St Petersburg, Russia

"Goddamn it's cold here!" Frankie Farelli cursed under his breath while pulling his coat tighter around him. "Why couldn't we go somewhere warmer instead, Tony?"

"Cuz the ting dat Sammy's got is here, you big wuss," Big Tony replied, shoving his compatriot in front of him, off the boat.

"Welcome to Russia," the dockyard overseer welcomed them in thick Russian accent. "Hopefully you brought more than two," he added, flashing a big pearly smile under a thick mustache and through a cigar he had smoked to a burning nub.

"Fuck you--I count for two by m' self," Tony said, giving Frankie another shove in front of him.

The overseer shrugged with his arms folded and then extended a gloved hand, "I don't really care how many you count for, as long as you count out my money for letting you into my country, comrade," he answered, flashing another greedy grin.

"Yeah, yeah, I got 'cher money right here, Federov," Tony replied, muttering under his breath, "fucking commie..."

"What you say?" Federov leaned in, his smile gone.

"Nuthin! I got your cash right here," Tony repeated, unfolding a sizable wad of American bills.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Federov frowned, standing upright once more.

"Find a place to change 'em out for your shit currency, I guess," Tony said, wearing the grin now.

"Fuck you," was the only reply Federov could muster before snatching up the bills. "Get the fuck outta here and don' let me see you again until you've got more money. And pay me in rubles next time."

"You got my car."

"Yeah, straight to Moscow. I know. He's waiting outside, 'round the corner."

When Frankie and Tony had gotten into the black sedan, Tony pulled out his phone, changed out the SIM card, and dialed a number.

"Yeah. We're here. What?! What do you mean the fuckin' Russians have him?! FUCK!" Tony reflexively threw the cellphone against the glass separating the two passengers from the driver. Then his fat fingers fumbled for it as he picked it up again, realizing he would need to make another call. He pushed the buttons furiously with his chubby digits and waited with huffing impatience.

"Yeah! Vincenzo! I need some fucking assistance. Russians got Sammy. Yeah, fucking bastards are looking to get their dirty fucking hands on my merchandise! I need some fuckin' people in Moscow I can count on. Look, I don't care how you do it. NO, it doesn't fuckin' matter who! Just make 'em fuckin' reliable enough to do the job, will ya? Jesus! Look, if they get shot, we don't need to worry about it. I'll handle their boss, trust me. Don't fuckin' worry about it. I'll take care of it. Yeah. Thanks. We'll be there tonight. Make sure your guys are ready. Thanks, Vincenzo."

"What was that?" Frankie asked worriedly.

"Fuckin' commies got Sammy."

"Whaddare we gonna do?"

"Dint you hear me? We're goin' after 'im!" Tony exclaimed. Frankie Farelli knew better than to argue the point while his boss was in a foul mood.

"DRIVE!" Tony yelled, banging his hand on the glass.
************************************************** ***********
Date: August 20, 2042
Time: 10:15 PM
Location: En Route to Cachora, Peru

"God help me... Father in Heaven guide me..." he whispered, over and over, muttering as he pressed a cloth to his wound.

“Excuse me, I noticed your cut. Mind if I help? I’ve done so residential work at a hospital,” Nicolai said trying to be as straightforward and as nice as possible to this man who seemed to be in the hump of a bad day. “I’m Nicolai by the way, and might I suggest doing something quickly about that cut. Foreign land makes for nasty foreign germs.”

Father Francis started up again, nearly banging his head a second time. His searching eyes met those of Nicolai, which appeared warm and comforting to him. He couldn't understand it, but he felt some kind of recognition even, as though he knew this young man, somehow. Something in those eyes...

"Y-yes," the priest stammered, accepting Nicolai's hand and help, moving his things to make room. "Thank you, Nicolai. Bless you." Father Francis smiled briefly before suddenly becoming rattled again as the bus slammed down into another pothole, creaking and groaning before roughly righting itself. Father Francis's things went all over the floor in the last crashing dip, and the middle-aged man scrambled with frantic life to gather them all up to his chest, his eyes wide with fear, his breathing heavy and erratic. His tired eyes scanned the floor for anything still loose, but finding nothing, he stuffed the rest back into his own satchel.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Father Francis apologized, very clearly shaken. "I've just not had much rest, and I've been dealing with..." and then he paused as if catching himself before he said too much. His eyes met those of Nicolai once more, "Well, I've just been under a lot of pressure with a matter of some importance."

He shook his head suddenly, as Nicolai moved to bandage his head wound--not because he didn't want to allow him to do it; he did, but because he was half-distracted with trying to keep his wits about him, and not divulge too much information. So much to keep track of...

He realized he likely only left the young man with even more questions.

"You're going to Cachora too? To the ruins?" Father Francis offered, hoping to at least deflect any incoming questions by asking a couple of his own, while letting Nicolai tend his wounds. He noted that the young man really did seem to know what he was doing, and smiled gratefully. "Thank you," he muttered. "I consider myself blessed that you decided to come along on the same bus as myself, damned though it seems to be to hit every hole in the road!" the priest chuckled, his darker mood lifting.
************************************************** ***********
DATE: August 20th, 2042
TIME: 2:30 PM
LOCATION: Memphis, Egypt

Shiloh questioned absentmindedly out loud “I wonder who those two are, they look so out of place here.”

"Who's that..." Max stopped, seeing the blonde-haired woman trailing another elderly professor-looking gentleman.

"That? My god, Max, I sometimes forget how you know nothing and no one outside of business opportunities," Harold replied, unable to resist another chance to take a shot at his old acquaintance. "That is Dr. Thomas Langdon, a well-respected graduate of Columbia who just happens to also poke around the ruins here on a regular basis, although..." Ashton paused, "... as much as I respect him, Cambridge expects me to compete with him to turn up artifacts faster and more frequently..." He turned with a raised eyebrow to Mr. Miller, "You see, sometimes, academia can look a lot like a competitive marketplace..."

This drew a "hrmph" from Max, who resumed his pace behind the old Englishman, who had started again for the Temple of Ptah.

"Unless of course you're were referring to his company," Dr. Ashton continued. "Never seen them before in my life."

This caused Max Miller to stop dead in his tracks and narrow his eyes at Shiloh again. Sarah noticed this and checked out Isaac and Shiloh as well.

"Who do you think they are?" she inquired, asking the question she knew was on her employer's mind.

"I'm not sure..." Max muttered, half in a fog. "There's... something... about them..."

"C'mon, Max. She's not that attractive..."

Mr. Miller glared at his assistant and corrected her, "That's not what I'm talking about." He then pulled out his satellite phone and called up his HQ. In a few minutes, someone answered.

"Bob, I need you to check around and find out if we have any leaks. I need to know if someone else has their people over here lookin' for the same things we are, and if so, who are they. I can't tell you much. There's a man and a woman here with a Dr. Thomas Langdon. See what you can find out about him and who he's been associating with and get back to me..."

"Think we've got competition?" Sarah asked, a hand on her hip.

Max kept eyeing the trio and then shook his head as he followed Dr. Ashton once more, brushing by her, "Either that or coincidence and I don't believe in that. Make sure you keep an eye on 'em."

Sarah nodded and turned to walk with him as they made their way across the ruins to the Temple of Ptah.

[Aheris]

Date: August 20th, 2042
Time: 3:00 PM
Location: Guiliana's Room, Casa del Mar

The hot summer sun had passed by the window, but the lingering heat and humidity had not. The breeze that made the room bearable earlier in the afternoon had dissipated. The window stood open still, and the rickety combination of brass and wood that served as a ceiling fan turned. But the air lost neither its weight or stuffy aroma.

Guiliana turned, rolling her face into the pillow. Her plenitude of choppy, inky red-and eggplant streaked layers covered the remainder of her exposed face. Despite being moderately uncomfortable and overheating in her clothes, she was out relatively cold. Then she heard two quick taps on the door.

Stumbling over to the door, she opened it a slight crack to see Stephanie's smiling face.


Stephanie jumped a bit in suprise, resisting another urge to giggle. She had seen Guilana when she had woken up without getting ready, and it was quite humorous. Quickly smiling, she waved at her, thinking it the right response.

"Sorry, were you sleeping?" She asked, her voice a little groggy herself.

Guiliana opened the door wider, covering her yawn with one hand at the same time.

"Not well. Did you need something?"

"Uh ... how do we get .. umm... food service" Stephanie asked, unsure if she got it right. Many questions ran through her head, some more pressing than others. She wasn't going to let it show though, to protect her friends. She knew, if she could keep this fever up, she could keep Evalon from getting out.

Running her hands through her hair to attempt to smooth its wildness, Guiliana turned to the small end-table next to the bed. It was painted white, cracking and chipping in multiple locations, complete with worn brass hardware.

"Just dial zero from the phone over there."

"Ah, thank you. Sorry if I disturbed your sleep. Its just that I am a bit new to this stuff," Stephanie said, giggling nervously. She went to head over and wobbled a bit, still abit unsteady from her sleep and illness. She went to go pick up the phone and stopped, her eyes swimming.

"Uh.. did you want anything?" She asked, blinking.

Guiliana stretched her features into another yawn. Finishing, she blinked into response to Stephanie's blink.

"Maybe just a water, if you don't mind."

"Ah, oh okay." Stephanie said, stilfing a yawn of her own. Pressing zero, she listened to the musical tone on the phone, flinching at how it grated on her ears. She heard a female's voice at the end of the line, sounding a bit bored.

"Uh yes.. can I have some water and a ... grilled cheese and milk sent up to room... uh" Stephanie stammered a bit, not knowing what room they were in. She looked to Guilana, asking with her eyes.

"14b." Guiliana spoke in her low voice, meeting Stephanie's question with a quiet answer.

"14b. Sorry for that" Stephanie said into the voice. The woman responded with no problem, sounding like she had better things to do than listen. Either that or Stephanie was reading into things a bit too much. After a while, she rested the phone back into the cradle, the buzz hurting her head. Unconsciously massaging her head to try and aleviate the heat, she looked at Guilana, a bit unsure of what to do. Yawning against her will and letting her hand slide down, she looked around the room, taking in very little.

"So, how was the outing with Lance?" Stephanie asked, trying to keep up a bit of a conversation.

Guiliana tilted her head to the side. She looked at Stephanie curiously, trying to guess where the conversation was going.

"Ahhh...hm. Fine, I suppose. Just got to know each other a little bit more. Nothing really unusual." Guiliana was witholding, of course, the playful interaction between Lance and herself. That would just be...awkward.

"Did you manage to get some sleep?" She questioned politely.

"... uh, yeah, a bit," Stephanie said hesitantly, trying to repress the vivid nightmare she felt. It was true though, she had managed a bit of sleep. She looked around again, not keeping eye contact with Guilana while surveying the room. It was a nice place, if somewhat under-kempt. She fidgeted with her clothes, pulling at the hem to pull them away from the skin, where the sweat had dried.

"So.. this is a nice place, huh?" Stephanie asked.

Guiliana smiled tiredly as she watched Stephanie glance around the room. "It is nice. My father has been in the business and traveled long enough to find someplace...just about anywhere." Pausing, she squinted in the late afternoon light from the window.

"But you seemed like you wanted to ask me something."

"... uh ... Why did you decide to help me?" Stephanie asked, diving in head first. She looked down and shuffled her feet, slightly embarrassed at the question. She knew it might be a personal question, but couldn't think of a reason why anyone would like to help her. Least of all someone of Guilana's family name.


Guiliana's features were smooth and calm as she thought about the questions she had known would come sooner or later. She'd even asked herself this; From the beginning she did not trust Richard. His strange gloves and reclusive posture made her bristle. Seeing Stephanie there, Guiliana's distrust of the average population kicked in. He seemed like he wanted something from her. That's not a good sign.

"Heh. I didn't trust Richard in the slightest. You seemed vulnerable and he reminded me of some people I don't trust. So I wanted to give you the chance before having to escape someplace again." Guiliana finished this last, her voice tinged with a bare trace of bitterness.

"Ah.. well... thank you..." Stephanie said, holding out her hand. She had seen some of the guards do it where she 'lived'. After a few seconds, she dropped her hand while hoping for some sort of distraction. Luckily enough, room service came up at that second, allowing Stephanie to breathe a sigh of relief. Looking to Guilana, she waited for some idea of what to do next, unsure if she should stay hidden or not.

Room service entered with the small order. The grilled cheese looked rather naked and lonely laying on the plate by itself, toasty against the clean white of the service. Guiliana fumbled with her bag, reaching for a bill or two to tip the young woman who had brought up the order.

She handed the bill silently, the girl nodding her head as she backed out of the doorway.

Clearing her throat, she replied to Stephanie." You're welcome....and while a handshake isn't entirely inappropriate, it is a little distant." Her lips turned up slightly, and she placed her arms lightly around Stephanie's shoulders. Quickly, she kissed the air near one of Stephanie's cheeks, and then the other.

Stephaine blushed scarlet. unsure of how to react. Shuffling her feet a bit, she picked up the sandwich, unsure of what to do. Nibbling, she found it tasted marelous.

"This, is delicious" Stephanie said, ignorant of the previous moment. Taking much larger bites, she quickly ate through the sandwich, marveling at every bite with the same enthusiam as the last bite. Finishing it quickly, she felt a bit childish, took a sip of her milk. Her eyes went wide as the cool liquid flowed down her throat, its creaminess a cool comfort to the burning of her head.

"Hehe.. sorry about that. It's been a while since I have had good food like this" Stephanie said, clearing her throat to make it seem a little less awkward.

Guiliana did her best not to laugh, however good-naturedly, at Stephanie scarfing the sandwich. It's not as if it were her fault that she hadn't had a decent meal to compare with a cheese sandwich. In fact, it probably was very good cheese and butter, from local, happy cows. Guiliana would not be surprised if the milk was, too.

"Don't even worry about it." Guiliana responded, glancing for a moment outside the bedroom door.

She was suddenly seized by curiosity, wondering if Lance was still sleeping on the couch. From her current vantage, she could only see the back...Were those feet sticking out the side?

"Mm. I need a shower."

Stephanie blinked,looking in the same direction as Guilana. She noted the feet as well, and stared at them for a minute before noticing that her glass was emtpy, but she was still trying to drink from it. She set it down with a light clink, flinching inward at the noise. Her mind was dragged from its own pain by Guilana's last statment, a bit unsure how to respond.

"Ah... is there a . um.. TV? in this room? I could watch it while you take a shower... so we can figure out what to do from there?" Stephanie asked, dregging up small little tibbits that she had heard from the guards while they talked over her head, barely noticing her. She had connected it with the tv that was in the guard room, one she had been dragged to on many failed escapes.


"There isn't one in this side. There might be one in the other room, I didn't really look." Guiliana cocked her head to the side and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"About later...There are some salt mines that I want to visit tonight...But I don't know if those are exactly your cup of tea." Raising her eyebrows slightly and folding her arms close to her body, she said the last bit of her statement as if it were a question.

"Cup of tea? No thank you.... And that sounds interesting" Stephanie said, mimikings Guiliana. Her statement of tea had thrown her off. And how did tea connect to salt mines in any fashion.Either way, it would be interesting to hang out with her friends.

Friends... I have friends! Stephanie smiled at that thought, pleased to be able to say that again.

Guiliana chuckled at Stephanie's curious response to her mannerism. "It's just a saying, meaning something in your normal realm or not. The mines themselves may or may not be interesting...But they say that the starlight makes them sparkle." As she explained the mines somewhat, a gleam of excitement entered her expression.

"The stars are entirely different out in the forest...There are more of them than you could think are real." She smiled again with renewed enthusiasm for her plan.

"Here. You can take my tablet." As she spoke, Guiliana opened a guest account quickly and navigated to a movie rental website. "I already have a subscription here...Go ahead and pick out what you want to watch while I go girly-fy." She seems so young to me...

"A saying?" Stephanie said, taking ahold of the thing. It was slightly larger than the books she had managed to get ahold of before, and it was way thinner. Curious as to how it worked, she pressed her finger in the corner. The glowed for a second and made a chiming noise, covering the large screen with details of a movie she had pressed. She giggled at this and ran her finger along it, making the images fly by, shifting from vibrant reds to smooth blues, and everywhere inbetween. Another giggle escaped her lips as she flicked it again, making it go in reverse this time. Highly amused with it, she continued to run her finger along, making it shift to different images.

"May I hold onto this and watch in my room?" Stephanie said, still staring at the screen.

"Of course. " Guiliana responded, turning to her baggage sitting next to the bed. She began to rifle through her carry-on, fishing out various toiletries.

"Thank you," Stephanie said, still staring at the screen. She headed to her room, bumping into a few things while doing so. She made it with relative ease though, and sat down, mesmerized by the flickering lights. A cough forced a way through her amusement though, making her head flare with pain. She rubbed it, finding that it dulled a bit when she did that, which made her glad. She remembered that a fever was bad for her, as her mom had told her. But at this point, it kept Evalon from taking over, and that was worth the pain for her friends. She stopped rubbing her head and continued to flick through the screens, not really looking for something to watch, but just facinated by the flickering images.

"You're welcome..." Guiliana mumbled as she watched Stephanie go, from the corner of her eye. She watched until the door closed behind Stephanie, gathered up the remainder of her items, and ferried them into the bathroom.

Then, with a smirk on her face, she walked into the small living area. Taking her path behind the couch, she quietly slipped behind Lance.

"You ready to live up to all that big talk?" Guiliana whispered into his ear. Her confidence and playful, wry tone came through loud and clear despite the quiet volume.

[Anne Bonny]

DATE: August 20th, 2042
TIME: 11:00 am
LOCATION: Bran Castle, Romania

“So, Tansy, what exactly are you looking for in this castle? Its not going to be more than a sentence or two in your article, right? Couldn’t you just look the place once over real quick, and then move on to other attractions?”

Tansy whirled to look at TJ in surprise. It wasn't until he had spoken his observation aloud that she realized how painfully, obviously foolish she had been acting.

Despite her firm belief that traveling to the castle must reveal some answers about the blood stone, so far the excursion had left her empty handed. Various artwork and relics decorated the castle here and there, each display with it's own little brass plate nearby telling what was what and what person from Romanian history it had to do with. But Tansy had quickly learned that the plates said next to nothing about what sort of talismans or jewelry people from the castle had worn. Instead, she took to examining portraits and other artwork for any sign of a red jewel.

At least, she assumed that it was a red jewel.

Sometimes her careful searching lead Tansy to squint at paintings from only inches away (her stern refusal to wear her glasses was coming back to bite her), which was exactly what Tansy was doing when TJ had asked his question.

She blinked at him blankly, wondering exactly what she should respond. If she came right out and told him the truth, she'd come off as a mad woman at best. If she played it off, she would have to cease her silly behavior and act more like the average tourist instead of some obsessed hunter, which could cause her to miss something.

It took a few seconds for Tansy to regain her composure, straightening her shoulders and letting that slight smile slip back into place. Still, a few seconds was too long when one has something to hide, she couldn't help but think.

"Oh, I was just looking at the clothes these people used to wear," she said with a short laugh. "Don't they look uncomfortable? Can you imagine getting dressed like this every day?"

Tansy gestured to the portrait of Queen Marie that she had been staring at. Then she paused, unsure of how to continue. TJ seemed nice enough, and she definitely wanted to keep him around as a companion during her stay. But what was the fine line of how much she should even talk about? What if there was more to this blood stone than she knew of? What if others were looking for it too? And... what if TJ was one of those others?

She shook her head. Now she was just being paranoid again. Without a second thought, Tansy plunged ahead.

"You know," she began again before she could think better of it, "I heard this crazy thing about a necklace or an amulet or something that Drac... I mean, Vlad the Impaler used to wear. I don't know if it was supposed to give him special powers or if it was a family heirloom or what. But it was like... a red stone. The color of blood."

She laughed lightly, as if at the absurdity of her words. "Anyway, I was just curious if we could see it in any of these old pictures. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bore you."

Tansy reached for his hand again and lead him to the next hallway of paintings. "I'll make it up to you later," she said with a wink. "What sort of other attractions did you have in mind, anyway?"

[Ad Infinitum]

DATE: August 20th, 2042
TIME: 11:55pm
LOCATION: Bran, Romania


The vending machine gave a grumble before a soda dropped, and slouched over nearby, Gihst snuffed a cigarette beneath his boot, his breath fogging around an unhealthy cough. He retched, a wince pinching his features as pain brushed the walls of his chest, and then, a violent coughing spell came to stand on his chest the way a trapper kills a fox. Black spots blotted out the world as he leaned a forearm against the soda machine to steady himself. There was that same lingering taste of coal in his throat. He blinked the memory away with a hardened countenance, and catching his breath, his goggles flashed over his shoulder.

The bent back legs of some black animal exited the halo of a streetlight down the road and vanished, swallowed whole by the darkness. He gave no sign that he had seen and casually sauntered on, past the streetlight and into the park. There, framed by the split in the canopy along the wooded path, the distant Bran Castle was displayed under the orange glow of floodlights.

The castle had been dark when he had first arrived last morning. He tossed back the can of ginger ale, bemused. That meant the floodlights turned off at some point every night – he banked on this as he crouched down on the sidewalk, took out a utility knife, and hunched over his task with the empty can.

The top and bottom of the can were removed, then the remaining metal tube was slit down the middle so it could be rolled flat. From the sheet of aluminum, a square was cut out and carved into the shape of a fat letter M, flat-topped and rounded at the points. Then, the flattened top was folded down on itself and the two legs of the M were pulled up, folded into wings on either side of the spoon-like center point left free. Now he had a padlock shim.

The padlock on the gate to that closed castle stairwell was a key type, which typically had a double shackle. He made a second shim and discarded the scrap aluminum in a trash can, then slid both shims into the inner chest pocket of his coat. Just then, the clock at the center of the park struck midnight, and Bran Castle went dark.

The Scotsman pulled down those goggles to dangle about his neck; those eyes seemed to crackle as he looked up, his silver irises catching the lamplight in shattered slivers of stark white, like thin ice splintering on a winter pond. And tucking his hands deep into his long coat pockets, he side-stepped off the path, his retinas refracting with an animalistic glow before the gloom consumed him...


DATE: August 21st, 2042
TIME: 12:10am
LOCATION: Bran Castle, Romania


The remaining sliver of the moon gave little light, just as the fingernail moon had promised last morning. Gihst was crouched low against the outer castle wall, motionless as he searched the darkness and silent as he pressed to listen, like the unwelcome rat in a hallway. Carefully, so carefully, he had waited like this for almost five minutes; there was still no motion in the forest below him, nor a sound but the breeze hissing through the leaves, and relaxing, he looked up to measure the wall above him. He quickly marked the easiest path with a glean of those fast, grabby eyes.

Leftward, there was a stone wall that had not been plastered over; it was a battlement whom's mortar had long since rotted out from between the staggered brick, leaving shallow gaps between them about the width of a finger. Three quarters of the way up, a thin stone ledge wrapped around the battlement and connected to a steep roof, from there, he could drop in through the courtyard. The old stone looked strong, and he knew the weight of the tower would keep those bricks pinioned in place.

He felt the wind swell, and as it sent another clamor through the treetops, he launched from his crouch into a sprint along the outer wall. After a good fifteen feet, he pivoted toward the battlement, threw his weight into two steps up the wall, vaulted upwards, then swinging up his hands and bending at the knees, he wedged his fingertips between the bricks. There he froze, clinging like a wasp on a windowpane; but as he listened, there was no evidence that he had been heard, no sign that the wind had not masked the noise. Once the moment passed peacefully, the task of scaling the battlement began, and almost effortlessly, he followed his chosen path and soon disappeared over the rooftops...


DATE: August 21st, 2042
TIME: 12:15am
LOCATION: Bran Castle, Romania


There was no sound of the heavy deadbolt locks on the outside doors, no footsteps, no whispers, nothing in that absolute quiet. Gihst breathed, then returned to the task with the padlock as he squatted beside the stairwell gate.

He slid the sodacan shims into the crevices where the shackle locked inside the body of the padlock. Carefully, with his powerfully hands, he turned and pushed each shim in turn, allowing the shackle to take them with it into the locking mechanism. Sometimes the shims broke, sometimes the aluminum bent instead of slipping between the notch in the shackle and the latch, he took it slow.

The shims gently gave, and with a soft click, the padlock snapped open.

He immediately turned the freed shims unders his eyes; they had not been mangled during the process and he pocketed them.

So with that practiced silence, Gihst stepped inside, dummied the padlock through the gate, and crept down the stairs into a gathered darkness...

[Kris]

DATE: August 21th, 2042
TIME: 17:30
LOCATION: Some cheap 2 stars hotel, Moscow, Russia


The page... was missing...

The very same page she draw the star and written her notes on back in the isle's Library, was gone.

She dropped the bag beside the rest of its capacity that she emptied before, which included documents, books, food and her Camera (But that one was placed gently). She was so furious, a bit stressed even, at this discovery. If it were any other time she might have been more 'cool' about it, but now was definitely not the time to lose such a thing. She knew very well how important it was to hold all the cards she could in her hands and losing even one would mean possible death.

She tried to calm herself down, telling herself that whatever that was written in the paper couldn't be that important. (Right?). She closed her eyes as she tried to remember, gently tapping the sides of her forehead (even massaging her temples) in effort to speed up the thinking process. Then her eyes widen up as the memory just flashed up in her mind, looking like a PDF scanned version of the paper. That image just stayed there in her thoughts as if she was looking directly at it. She scrolled on it up and down as if her mind was a working computer and she was pressing the wheel of the mouse over the page.

SECTION G (The logo at the top of the paper)

Star-> Star of winter....

Meet Amilia at Majestic... (Irrelevant....)

Star is the presence of a divinity, an angelic messenger of a god, hope, eyes of the night, Gate of heaven. (Nice...)

Seal of Solomon-> Creation.

pentagram-> has magical associations.

(Scribbling of said star below)

Her eyes closed and the image faded as if she turned off some kind of a screen. When she reopened her eyes the normal vision returned to her and she found herself within that same cheap room she got herself into not so long ago.

She shivered.

What was this all about?! How could she do it?!

Still disturbed and rather shocked, she looked around at both sides of the small chamber while sitting on the bed, waiting to see if anyone took advantage of the fact she wasn't aware of the things going on around her, and entered the room while she was 'busy'.

Nothing.

She waited a bit longer, taking a deep breath and exhaling with a relief once her suspicions were proven false. She was not very peaceful lately. Ever since she left Cassandra's place she felt like she was much more exposed to danger and the fact those 'abilities' of her took over when she wasn't expecting them to, didn't ease her at all. She was still unused to them and it seemed that the more she found herself cornered and scared, the more those 'abilities' would present themselves to her. The key to activate them so far was a sudden heightened emotions rather than a personal will, which she didn't care for at all up until now, because she always feared those 'abilities' to begin with and she never truly wanted to explore more. Well, actually she did; Being the curious type of woman she was she found that gift of her to be fascinating, but truth was that her power has terrified her far more than it intrigued her.

Now, however, after everything she had been through, seen and heard in the last few days, she learnt to accept them with some serenity, but when her power just popped up when she was already too tensed, it did took a tool on her, increasing her fear and terror. For example, now was definitely not the time she wanted to lose sight of what was been going on around her just to see clearly some stupid paper. What if....HE.... was here.... and attacked her?! (She wanted to see something much more valuable before her death, rather than some PDF file!!!!!!).

She sighed.

And then she started to rethink this whole situation, concluding that it was rather interesting to say the least. If she could remember one page... what about... more important stuff?.... And how much more could she remember?

She looked around her again, noticing the front door and the door which led into the bathroom (That's just how terribly small the place was). She bit her lips knowing that the next action she aimed to try would take all of her courage to pull off, but if she wanted to explore more she had to let go, even if it meant she was going to be 'blind' and 'deaf' for the next couple of minutes.

"Okay, here goes nothing!"

She closed her eyes again, trying to actually summon up the abilities.

The feeling was rather unusual, far stronger than anything else she'd experienced before. It felt like her whole body was thrown into the ocean and she slowly sank into it, the awareness of the outside world faded with her and she heard and saw nothing just as if water were entering her ears and eyes. Everything was blurry at first as she kept diving deeper and deeper, however, the moment she knew she could dive no longer she gained some control back.

She was no longer aware of the 'outside' world and could only guess that she had somehow entered deep into her own subconscious. It happened so quickly and before long she found herself able to channel her actions and capable of choosing a memory to witness. Her eyes opened up and she saw what she picked up to see, which was a whole scenario from one winter while she and some friends sat in some coffee place. She closed her eyes, ending that thought with it. Then she wanted to remember something else. She opened her eyes only to see some other event (Which was a bit embarrassing to tell more about...). She closed her eyes, the vision gone as a smirk and a red line turned to adorn her face.

'Okay, let's get serious....'.

Now she wanted to see the vision of her notes, everything that she had written and read up until this point about the star. She opened her eyes again, the visions surfing and raising, but it was almost as if she opened a whole pack of documents, all at the same time. It was too much and it was hard to figure which was what, but at least the visions and images were pretty much solid and focused.

She closed her eyes as a big smile formed upon her face.

Everything was there.... Kept like it was placed inside a safe. She was valuable after all. This made her chuckle and she opened her eyes slowly, only to learn how hard it was to go back to reality after having the 'ability' to toy with your memories and actually messing with them some.

Sarina fell backward at the bed, her head hurting like she was having a terrible hang-over while crashing against the edges of the bed.

She moaned with pain.

(Definitely not her best of days)


***

She reached out her hands to the fire, the dancing flames somewhat easing her mind and that huge headache. (That increased the moment she thought how stupid was it to make such a tiny room have a fireplace rather than including something better, like a porch).

She looked back at her notes (which were still thrown all over the place) and wondered between herself if it was safe to continue carrying them all with her. If her bag was to be stolen, she feared that aside of losing her personal belongings, that she might help handing important information to someone who shouldn't even be aware of it. She feared for those notes far more than she did for her laptop, her cloths or even her other personal stuff. Even far more than she cared for her camera!!! (.... Well.... amm.... maybe....).

Sarina was wise enough to know from the start that she had something big in her hands and never kept records in her laptop about her findings, always cleaning her registry and bower's cookies, making sure nothing was kept after her use, however, to keep track she kept small notes that she wrote up from time to time. Now she realized it will be risky to have these notes with her. Not only because she feared robbery, but rather because she feared she might lose them somewhere, just like she lost that one page.

She was only human after all.

She rubbed her chin, thinking how would she handle herself from this point onward. She could give them to some safe keeping, but was there really someone trust worthy enough for the job? and besides... If there was someone capable of doing it, wouldn't she endanger that said person by handing her notes to him/her?

Her next option was hiding it somewhere, but history showed that nothing stayed a secret forever...

While still pondering she felt the warmth of the fire and her interest (and gaze) was diverted for the flames. A smirk appeared on her face as she watched the light dancing upon her hands in that gloomy room, adding some shades to her already bronze tanned skin.

Then her eyes widen up with a realization.

She don't need the notes.

She threw her glance back at the papers which included some sketches and finished images she draw not long ago. They were all so pretty and important to her, but she knew she couldn't keep them. She bit her lips and frowned, painfully accepting the idea that formed in her mind.

The next moment she got up and fed the papers into the fire. It was the best option for her. Everything was kept in her mind anyway so she won't need them, but burning things that were hers was still saddening regardless.

Waves of changing.

Gah!

She cursed fate for forcing her to do it while watching the black smoke that arose with the souls of the words and the images that once where her notes.

[Mysteria]

DATE: August 20th, 2042
TIME: 2:30 PM
LOCATION: Memphis, Egypt

“I wonder who those two are; they look so out of place here.”

Professor Langdon scratched his chin, his blue eyes twinkling with the sparkle that Shiloh had remembered from her childhood days. Then the professor chuckled as he replied. “I’m not exactly sure, probably one of the backers, or possibly someone sent here to spy for the competition.” Langdon went on to explain about the politics behind college rivalries and academics.

Shiloh simply nodded, then turned at the sound of excitement as some new treasure was unearthed and watched with interest as each item was slowly and carefully brought out of its recent tomb in the ground. The thrill of seeing something that was centuries old for the first time as a little girl came racing back to her again now.

The feeling had not changed. Her blood felt like it quickened in her veins as a worker used a small brush to gently remove some dirt from what looked to be a remnant of an ancient clay cup, inscribed with some form of hieroglyphics that she didn’t recognize.

"There's... something... about them..."

Upon hearing the strangers’ voice, Shiloh turned her head, her eyes scanning the old man and younger woman with him. While Shiloh couldn’t exactly read lips, she knew enough to be able to determine what the mousey blond woman had said.

"C'mon, Max. She's not that attractive..."

Shiloh’s dark eyes narrowed, her hand tensing in Isaac’s. bitch…she murmured under her breath. Isaac must have heard the other woman’s words too, and squeezed Shiloh’s hand, attempting to calm Shiloh with his smile. His smile was weak though, and Shiloh was worried that Isaac having traveled so soon had been a mistake. Although he seemed to appear to have healed outwardly rather quickly, he still looked tired.

She watched the man whose name she’d caught to be Max and quickly determined that his interest in her small group was obviously just more than that of a college rival or excavation backers. If she wouldn’t know better, she could have sworn he was studying her and Isaac, and not the artifacts that could be found all over the place.

Shiloh remembered something that Micah had said to her at the edge of the park back in Alesia that day “The relics are the key.” Nothing that Micah had said to her that day had made any sense and she certainly hadn’t understood any of it, yet alone believed any of it.

Suddenly Shiloh began to wonder if perhaps the additions she sought to add to her collection were more than just mere “artifacts or collectibles”. What scared her even worse was what if everything about Micah had been real? What if everything he said, if everything that he had told her, had been true?

She turned to say something to Isaac then, observing that not only did he appear to be as ill as she’d suspected, but Isaac appeared to be staring directly at her; yet at the same time distant like he was lost somewhere, deep in his own thoughts, then turned back to look at the stranger. The sound of Professor Langdon’s voice interrupted her thoughts as he was explaining some of the glyphs on the pottery that had just been found. She turned her attention back to him, deciding that she may have more questions for him later, after they were out of earshot of the stranger and the woman with him.

Then Shiloh looked at Isaac again, noticing in the sunlight the deep lines of his face, the uneasy, distant look in his eyes and she couldn’t help but wonder just what was going on deep inside of the mind of Isaac Scott.

[~N~]

DATE: August 20th, 2042
TIME: 8:00 PM
LOCATION: Brasov, Bran, Romania

Brother Stephen Martucci arrived in Brasov like a shadow, standing out only as much as anyone else might, despite his priestly garb. The Pope had given him an illustration, as well as copies of a few pieces of old pamphlets that seemed to describe the relic known as the Bloodstone. Its whereabouts could be anywhere, but it was the Vatican's guess that it was here, now. The question that remained on everyone's mind was where...?

The relatively small town of Brasov became as expansive as a world to the young priest, but he had incentive enough to turn over every rock and look in every dark corner if he had to, for the Holy Father's words echoed clearly in his mind:

"Find this relic, my son, and you shall be Cardinal."

That was a coveted position that could sometimes take an entire lifetime to achieve, and for many was never a position they would enjoy.

Being Cardinal meant having a chance at being a future Pope and that was an opportunity the young priest was willing to do almost anything for.

The piece of parchment Brother Stephen had contained some enigmatic lines scribbled in script, written in Latin--the language of the Church. Translating the words came second nature to Brother Stephen. They read as follows:

Under moonlit skies, nothing seen;
in darkness only come the screams,
that vanquish kings and set alight
the fires that burn the cribs tonight
and quench the thirsty blades the blood
that turns the earth to crimson mud
erected high upon the poles
the droplets drip and slip the souls
out from those corpse trees
into the sky, an army flees
and a villain cries out his boasts
upon the winds, while bodies roast
in sun-burnt skins, where round the neck
on iron hooks, lies a jewel of blackest
bloody looks, before the fire
only seems, the crimson tint
of that macabre feast...

"Under moonlit skies, nothing seen..." Brother Stephen looked up, seeing the faint thin crescent of a fading moon rising across from a fiery setting sun. "Under moonlit skies, nothing seen..."

Suddenly his eyes went wide, and he ducked into a nearby gift shop, those same wide eyes searching frantically for a calendar, of all things. When he found one, he nearly knocked over a display case, but flipping to August, he scanned the weeks post haste and found what he was searching for:

There would be a New Moon on the night of the 22nd.

************************************************** ***********
DATE: August 22nd, 2042
TIME: Midnight
LOCATION: Strait of Gibraltar

"Cross the sea into the endless Ocean, past the Pillars of Hercules, where the North Wind may bless your insignificant passage with a gale frigid and deadly enough to turn your already pale heart to ice..."

Her words, whispered into his left ear upon lips that could seduce any man of flesh, cut into his spirit like daggers. She told him that the Ocean was only the first step to the darkness he sought, and that it would most likely consume him, swallow him whole, and never let him out. Such was the bitter fate he asked for, such was the path that sleeplessly he pursued, aboard a private yacht he rented on company funds, his eyes peering westward as the ship sailed through the Strait of Gibraltar.

Jeremy clenched his teeth tightly, his jaw muscles flexing as a blast of unnaturally frigid air hit the vessel and himself, nearly sending him right over the starboard railing as his pale fingers gripped the cold metal rungs while he dangled mere feet above the tumultuous waves. His long black coat whipped as violently as the winds through his dark hair, but with gifted strength, he pulled himself back up on deck, climbing back on board like a washed up drowned man.

The tempest had only begun to work him over, but with that slap to his face, she had clearly given her approval of him... and he responded with a fanged smile pressed against the deck while the ship rocked dangerously about the waves...

************************************************** ***********
DATE: August 21st, 2042
TIME: 9 PM
LOCATION: Beneath a strip bar called "T&A" in Moscow

A few hours earlier a note was slipped under the door to Sarina's apartment containing information about the following meeting...

"Listen up," a man in black clothing that looked like a suit bellowed out in a thick Russian accent.

"You all have been called here on behalf of Tony Iglesias," he explained with open arms, "or, 'Big Tony' as you might know him. You were notified because you like money and you don't care who's paying." Some chuckles went up in the crowd.

"You also were picked because as far as we know, none of you have any current connections with the Russian Mob. Who knows how you've managed to survive up to this point, but the point is..." he paused for dramatic effect, looking around the room, "we don't care. And neither does Tony, apparently." More scattered laughter.

"Tony is putting up fifty-thousand dollars in cash which will be split up among the survivors of our little 'raid' on any Russian mobsters we will encounter. It is no secret that some of you work for the police--" the man acknowledged, "--we're counting on that. If some mob players are taken out in the action, you will obviously receive a promotion and credit that the rest of us... regrettably... cannot take." This speaker was just a regular riot.

"However, as it is known that some of you may not survive this, you face a bigger piece of the reward the more bloody it gets..."

"Are there any questions?" the speaker offered with an arched eyebrow.

"Yeah, what are we doin' besides killin' the other guys?" one man shouted out.

"Tony says they've taken something of his, or someone..." the speaker replied, "... he wasn't clear on that. He means to get his 'stolen possessions' back."

"What if we decide to 'steal' it instead?" asked another.

"Well then, you all know who to shoot next," the speaker said, pointing to the man who just asked the question.

"When do we get paid?"

"When Tony gets what is his, and you're still alive to see it."

"What else is he after?"

"Some kind of relic... some star or something.... apparently it's very valuable on the black market."

"Why not just take it for ourselves?"

"Because that would make you the next one to be dead," the speaker reminded the crowd.

"So we go in, kill everyone but Tony and his guys, and look for this thing... and a man?"

"If the man is still alive, yes. His name is "Sammy". The thing, Tony says, is more important."

"Where are we going," a low voiced man in the back asked.

"Tony's informants say that they are moving the relic and Sammy through one of three Metro stations tomorrow evening... the relic and or Sammy could be anywhere in those three--that's the best our source can give us."

"Like an old shell game..." muttered another voice in the crowd.

"Yes," replied the speaker, "Like a shell game. Have fun!"