No Pigs Here






Consortium Base, New York City


KeLyssa, a spy for CSIS, attempts to infiltrate the Consortium base and is captured. Interrogation is terse, but business is forged from the resulting give-away.

West of New York City is an operated warehouse that does not exist by paperwork. The building was constructed in 1933, became abandoned, then was retaken in the late 1990s, though none of this is really accessible knowledge being the building doesn't technically exist now. However, here it is in plain sight. Vines and other shrubbery grow up the sides of the large stone building. All of the windows are boarded up and covered in bars. It's very obvious the building has sustained hard times.

Fields of grape plants surround the building in an uncontrolled manner. Outside of the building is a large junction box with large cables running from it to the building. This is supposedly the current base of operations for The Consortium, and through many pacts, its location has been neglected or 'lost in paperwork'.

It would appear that the building hasn't been completely lost, however. It is known to some, even if they are few and far between in the outside world. A blonde girl, dressed completely in black, has slowly, cautiously, made her way to the location. There's a saying that she lives by: 'It's not easy being green…so dress in black instead.' It has served her well at times. Although she almost wishes she'd dressed in green today, considering all the shrubbery and other such greenery of the area. As she scours the building and the area, trying to be sneaky and stealthy, she tries to find a way into the building without being detected.

There appears to be several entrances to the building. To the west side of the building is a cellar door. It looks fairly heavy in construction. In addition to the front doors, there is also a back door which is all boarded up. The building isn't a perfect square shape, and it actually looks like it consists of many buildings put together. What appears to be a greenhouse is on the south side of the building and it has a glass ceiling. Finally, there's a garage type deal on the North side of the building.

KeLyssa comes first upon the cellar door. Despite looking quite heavy, she decides to attempt the old heave-ho to open it. Trying to pul it open a few times, she realizes it's futile, as the doors are probably locked. This doesn't deter her though. She continues around the building, attempting find a door that might, that just might, be openable. Coming upon the garage. She stands there for a good few minutes, staring before attempting to open it. And attempt she does.

The garage door opens, for one reason or another. You'd figure that'd be the thing locked. In any case, the door opens, revealing the black Cadillac the garage holds. Sitting on the hood of the Caddie is a man in a grey suit with this odd weapon propped on his knee and aiming towards KeLyssa. "Hello there," the man says, "Snooping around my winery?"

KeLyssa immediately holds her hands up as the man with the gun is spotted. No way she's reaching, or attempting to reach, for the ankle gun she keeps hidden (when she's wearing pants on these sorta missions). "Mon dieu…" she says in a quiet, shaky voice, sounding very much like the francophone from Canada, should one distinguish the different. "Mon…monsieur?" She blinks. "Winery? Oh! Wine…drink?" She attempts to put on an act of limited English, keeping the Francophone accent. "Mon anglais…English…not…not…bon." She puts on a confused face. "Je suis detruit…umm…lost. Lost family. Lost!"

There's a quick whine from the weapon that lasts under a second before the sound of substantial electrical discharge reports from the gun like a gunshot. The result, instead of a bullet, is a solid red laser beam that just barely misses KeLyssa. It continues off into the field somewhere. "Sorry. I missed." Says the man in a light Russian accent. "Lasers are funny things, having no recoil. Don't think I will miss again. What's your name and who do you work for?"

KeLyssa jumps as the laser nearly hits her, gasping and looking up, wide eyed, at the man with the gun. "Monsieur. Ne me blessez pas!" He voice still as shaky "Family! Family lost! Lost family! Perdu! Perdu!" She bites her lower lip as tears start to slowly run down her eyes. "Perdu…" she says quietly. "Lost…non famille. Famille…mon famille."

"I don't believe this." The man says. "Red, take her." The man says in a firm but loud voice. From the garage several men in black and red combat armor with P90 rifles begin moving to surround the woman. This is really her only chance to make a run for it, but that's probably not such a wise decision. "The 1950s ended a long time ago, miss." The man says again.

KeLyssa looks quite the mixture of scared and confused. "Ce qui?" She looks at the men surrounding her. "Ce qui? Que se produit? Mon famille! Perdu! Lost!" One way or another, she's not going to be running any time soon. If this is what she has to do to get her work done…well, she'll just have to do it. As long as it doesn't get her killed, mind you.

The units are a bit rough in forcing KeLyssa's arms behind her while another guard begins blindfolding her. Once blindfolded and ziptied the guards take her arm by arm and begin leading her on. However, the man in the suit yells at them, "Lift up her feet! Don't let her count the steps." The guards do that too, forcefully lifting up the woman and carrying her. Some times passes as doors shut, open, there are beeps, the sounds of computers, and a lot of walking. Eventually. Kelyssa is plopped onto a wooden chair and cuffed to that as well. They're fairly thorough. If there are any tracking or communication devices on Kelyssa, they do not work in her current location. Probably about thirty minutes KeLyssa is left like this before a person enters the room, who tears the blindfold off of her. It's the man in the suit from before. "You satisfied with your arrangements?" He inquires.

Making whimpering sounds the whole way, KeLyssa continues to play the role of an innocent. It's possible that someone who wasn't a spy could just…appear, being lost…right? Right. Especially someone who spoke French, perhaps whose father or mother was translating the English for her. While finally she sits, waiting, she attempts to keep her mind blank, contemplative. No use worrying. What good will it do you to worry, right? As the blindfold is taken off, she whimpers again. "Monsieur…veuillez ne pas me blesser. Je veux juste revoir ma famille. Mon famille!"

The man traces a finger under the woman's chin, lifting it to position her eyes in direct contact with his. He's only a foot away, tops. His expression is stone cold. "If you wish to live, you will talk now. See if I'm bluffing. If you tell me who you work for and what you're doing here, I may have a use for you and will set you free. Resist, and you're just the next load of garbage."

KeLyssa tears start dropping down her cheeks again. "Mon famille! J'ai detruit mon famille! M'aiderez-vous trouvez-vous ma famille? Ma famille…ma famille…" The longer she speaks, the more she whispers. "Ma famille…ma famille. J'ai detruit mon famille…j'ai detruit mon famille." She certainly seems to be repeating the same phrases over and over again.

"I don't have time to waste on this," The man says as he straights his posture and withdrawing his hand. "Reds, kill her and feed the body to the pigs. I don't want any evidence that she was here. Yellows scout the fields." The man turns to leave the room as the soldiers begin shuffling in. This is perhaps the last chance KeLyssa has.

KeLyssa throws herself at the feet of Rurik makes move to leave. "Ma famille! Ma famille! Aidez-moi a trouver ma famille!" She sobs at his feet. "Mon family. Please…lost…" She shudders. "English…difficult…father…mother…little sister. Ma famille. Help." When at last she stops her sob fest, she looks up. "You wouldn't want to upset an important possible supplier, would you?" The voice has changed. It's more sweet, yet sadistic undertones how there. "Hells Angels don't exactly forgive easily. It was them who sent me. Wanted to see how you'd treat their sweet, darling, 'defenseless' messenger. Didn't pass the test, I'm afraid. But, if the price is right in the end, we won't hold it against you. I mean, weapons are such a wonderful commodity in this world."

Rurik looks over his shoulder at KeLyssa, "So the price is right. Just for future notice, I don't have any pigs at this facility." Rurik grins, "Guards, set the lady back up and undo her wrists." A bold move, and the guards do as commanded, removing those painful zipties. "Sit on a dick, girlie. Defenseless or not, if you betray our position, we are as good as dead. It is a tough world out there and we do not fuck around." He says as he turns around. "If you're here to do business, we'll do business. Use the front door next time."

KeLyssa giggles. "You know, there was a farmer in Canada who used pigs. Unpleasant fellow, really." She winks at the man. Total demeanour change. Comes with the territory. As she stands her self up, she says, "I couldn't just use the front door. For all I knew, people would have come out shooting, and I could not have had that. Besides…how do you think I found the place? Somebody was seeding the info to my group. Not that we minded. We always like to know new people to trade with. Weapons. That's what we got. And lots of them."

"You women, you are all trouble. This is the problem with you being such… Unique and attractive creatures." Rurik laughs, he's still maintaining a little bit of distance but that's perfectly viable for someone whom he does not know. That person could assassinate the leader of the Consortium right now, which is why he does not introduce himself.

KeLyssa giggles and blushes slightly. "Aww shucks. We're not that much trouble, are we? I'd hate to think we are. Besides, we can be much more fun than we can be trouble." She says softly. "Now, here's the question. What can we do for you? What arrangements can we come to? I'd hate to think you put me through all this trouble for nothing." Sure, she put them through more trouble. But that can't be helped. She has to have fun! That and maintain covers. But that's a whole other story.

KeLyssa smiles softly. "That's Miss Laval to you, good sir!" She says in playful tones. "And no, I just happen to have a penchant for the dramatic. I hope you won't hold it against lil ol' me. But I certainly don't lie…most of the time. You understand, people like us sometimes have to withhold information to protect ourselves." With a tilt of her head she says, "Now, she we speak of business?"

Rurik motions to the door, which opens on command due to there being a guard there. "Indeed. Let's go to my quarters. Do you drink, Miss Kelyssa?" Rurik asks politely.

KeLyssa wags her finger. "Tut tut, good sir. Remember. Miss Laval." Giving the man yet another wink (she seems to like to wink, doesn't she?) she shakes her head. "You first, sir. I'd hate to walk in front of you, only to find a dagger or some such sticking into my back. You can have your guards watching me all you like, but we all must take precautions. You understand."

"My apologies, Miss Laval." Grins Rurik, taking the lead through the door. It's true that he has guard all over the place, all dressed in that red and black combat armor. Does camouflage not matter at all to him? Not really, it's style over substance. Besides, that dark red blends well with the darkness. He eventually leads KeLyssa throughout his base, which is filled with towering mainframes with so many blinking lights. Thick cables run across the ceiling, walls, and floor. It's a real datacenter, all right. Once at his quarters, two guards enter behind them and guard the inner door area. Rurik motions towards a couch with a decently sized coffee table in front of it.

KeLyssa bows her head. "I'll forgive you. Just try not to let it happen again." She says with a twinkle in her eye. "Now, onward to your office, sir." She still doesn't know his name. She wasn't given a whole lot of information when it came to this mission. All she knew was that she was to do reconnoissance. As they walk, she attempts to remember each hallway, and each turn they make. When they reach the quarters, she smiles and takes her seat at the couch. "Now, onto the more interesting subject matter. How can we be of service to you?"

Rurik takes a seat on an opposite chair. "What services do you provide besides basic weaponry? Do you also offer mercenary services?" Rurik keeps pretty good posture on his chair as one of his operatives brings in a wine cooler with a bottle of vodka, as well as two glasses. It's unusual that not even five minutes ago he was maybe going to kill you.

KeLyssa crosses her legs, placing her hands in her lap, all the while keeping one eye on the bottle of vodka and another on Rurik. Despite the congeniality between the two at present, she'd still not put it past him trying to kill her. After all, he found out about her ties to the Hells Angels. Who knows, maybe her knows about her work for CSIS. You can never be too cautious. But regardless of what he does, or does not know, at present she shall represent whichever interest best serves her. At the moment, that would be the Hells Angels. "We do not provide merely basic weaponry, good sir. But, I see your point. I am sure that if you…require mercenary services, we'd be able to come to some sort of arrangement with you."

The guard pours two glasses of the vodka on the rocks. Rurik doesn't take his quite yet, but the guard leaves. Preferably, his name won't be known to this young woman any time soon. Being known by name is such an inconvenience and security risk here. "Then get straight to the point, Miss Laval. What services do you offer? I'd rather not play a guessing game all evening."

KeLyssa holds up her hands in a defensive posture, having not yet taken her own glass of vodka. "It is you who are enquiring of the services! You tell me what you need, and I'll make arrangements with my people. It is as simple as that. Whether those arrangements involve weapons or mercenary service of some kind, or another kind of service all together. All we ask is for payment for said services."

"In that case, allow me to make reverse proposal." Rurik replies, "If you come across any information, The Consortium will buy this information from you if it's worth anything." He takes a glass of the vodka and sips it, which more or less means he drinks half of the glass, which is make a shot. "You know where we are now."

KeLyssa smiles coyly, resting her hands back down on her lap. "What kind of information does The Consortium find of interest? Info that pertains to them? Government officials? Diplomats? General black market info?" She says calmly. Perhaps this isn't her first time making detail arrangements with a criminal organization? "I've got a thought. Is there any way you'd give someone the schematics to one of those fancy laser guns of yours? Or perhaps even sell one of them? Or…and here comes the crazy thought, perhaps sell those weapons in bulk?"

Rurik's smiling demeanor fades as he puts up an amazing poker face. Calmly he replies, "I wouldn't think of it. As for information we're interested in, largely information on the internal affairs of other information agencies as well as political information regarding the several nations. It's nice to know who's pulling the strings. We will also buy bulk database data dumps on secure disks." It's business again, as usual.

KeLyssa rolls her eyes. "Tsk. Such an interesting weapon. I've heard of beam like weapons being experimented on, but I've not seen anything quite like the ones you have." She says lightly. "But, that is, of course, your prerogative." Pausing for a moment, gazing at Rurik, she finally says, "So, what would we get in return for all this information?"

Rurik taps his fingers on the arm rest of his chair, "When I say 'purchase', I usually mean with money. If your organization needs no paper, we can always arrange a deal in services. No binding contracts of course, but if you have, say, an database copy of the CSIS, and wanted our assistance in an espionage sortie, we would be able to arrange such a deal."

KeLyssa smiles and bows her head. "Well, this is something for me to discuss with my own superiors. Unfortunately, I am not the be all and end all of this decision. But I can say, with fair certainty, that we've got ourselves a deal. We'll be in contact. We do, as you say, know now where you're located. I can only hope that this means an excellent future of relations between our two group, Mr….?"

"My name isn't terribly important, you will want to speak to Rurik Wulfenbach later." Rurik says calmly, "He sees fit in arranging contact details with your organization, he will do so, then." Rurik smiles while standing up, offering his hand to the woman. "It was very pleasant doing business with you."

"Well, I hope I can look forward to future business arrangements." KeLyssa states calmly. Following Rurik in standing up, she takes a grasp of his hand. She has a surprisingly firm grasp, for someone who looks like she couldn't hurt a fly. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to show me the door, I'll be on my way."