Prelude To Armageddon, Part I

Participants:

ellinka_icon.gif rico_icon.gif

Scene Title Prelude To Armageddon, Part I
Synopsis Ellinka and Rico begin operations to prepare the city for the final stages of Kazimir Volken's grand design.
Date December 20, 2008

East River, Brooklyn Bridge


The roar of automobiles passing overhead normally would make conversation impossible. The weather adding to that only compounds matters, but two individuals skulking beneath the traffic layer of the Brooklyn Bridge speak to one another as if they were in quiet and comfortable rooms. The miracles of communications technology. «Chica, hand it over.»

Rico Velasquez hangs suspended by a climbing rope from one of the towering support pylons of the bridge, legs hooked around the edge of an iron girder, climbing as if he were spider man along the freezing cold metal. Forgone is his dusty and old green jacket, the weather and the assignment has forced him into more practical gear. The form-fitting black uniform he wears is designed for arctic climates, trimmed with dark fur, and the black mask pulled over his face keeps the strong and polar winds blowing across the bridge from freezing his skin off of his face. «Volley.»

The responding voice over his communications link belongs to the Vanguard sniper Ellinka, perched up just below street level on the side of the bridge, legs braced at a corner of metal and stone framework, her body concealed from view by both traffic and bridge maintenance security. She drops down a cloth-wrapped bundle with a security tether, and Rico pushes off from the wall, swinging out to catch the line as the bundle falls and repel back to where he was by kicking off of the opposite wall. «How long is the range on the remote detonators we're using?» Rico braces his knees against the girder he was suspended against earlier, turning to look down over his shoulder at the long drop to the East River below.

«No remote detonators.» Ellinka's words over the comms cause Rico's breath to hitch in his throat, followed by a growled curse in Spanish, «Kazimir changed the orders last minute, says he doesn't want the switch signals getting interrupted. These are going to be set to timers.»

Rico shakes his head quietly, «I don' like timers, Chica. How long are we setting these for?» Unwrapping the cloth, Rico lets it fall away to be snatched by the wind, revealing a packaged Semtex explosive charge connected to an analogue timepiece. Rico's eyes settle in disbelief as he looks at the wristwatch attached to it. «You've got to be shitting me.»

«What?» Ellinka leans to one side, resting her shoulder against a metal ridge, peering down towards the turbulent East River through the driving snow, her short blonde hair whipping around her head as she tries to get a better look at Rico. The demolitions expert grows silent, staring at the detonation device in his hand with a shake of his head.

«It's a wristwatch.» He can hardly believe it, unreliable and low-tech, it's very unlike Kazimir. «This looks pretty improvised, thrown together at the last minute. I can still see the puncture holes where a remote detonator had been set in. Mattias must have put these together, and then had to re-rig them from the looks of them.» With a reserved sigh, Rico reaches up and begins attaching the explosive charge to the support strut. «It's Semtex too, not Thermite. I'm not really sure why that, unless he's going to form more than function.»

«Are you questioning him?» She leans back to her perch in the corner, scuffing the heel of one boot against a patch of ice her heels precariously balance on, crunching it up and letting it fall off to allow her boots more purchase on the metal ledge, her back pressed up against the cold stone behind her.

Rico doesn't respond, he just attaches the explosive and then kicks off of the support, soaring in a wide arc below the bridge before landing on the opposite support column, climbing up the girder to hook his legs around, and then swing his body weight until he flips himself up to grab onto the ledge Ellinka stands on. She braces herself, pulling up on Rico's climbing cable as he pulls himself up to sit on the ledge.

«No.» He finally answers, rubbing his gloved hands together from the cold, «No, I'm not.» His voice only carries over the comms, the roar of traffic so close and the howling winter winds swallow his voice otherwise. He reaches down and rolls up the front of his mask, then partially unzipz the front of his black vest, retrieving a pre-wrapped cigarette, licking one end before placing it between his lips and fishing for a lighter in his pockets.

«Must you?» Ellinka's eyes narrow as she shifts her weight, stepping around Rico to crouch beside the edge of the bridge, perched like some stalking vulture over a great and churning abyss. Rico finds the lighter, flicking it on as he curls forward to shield the flame from the wind, struggling to light the cigarette.

«I must.» He murmurs, lips not parting entirely so he doesn't lose the cigarette to the gusts. Slowly, Rico draws in a breath, causing the ember at the tip to glow brightly, and the smoke he exhales thorugh his nose is cast to the bitter winds within seconds of escaping him. «We're hitting all of them?» He motions with one hand out to the bridges beyond the Brooklyn Brdge.

Ellinka nods slowly, «Correct.» Her assertation makes Rico anxious, the idea of cutting off all of Manhattan fromt he rest of the city by land, it could create a hell of a situation, and one he certainly hopes he's on the outside of when it does happen. His head hangs for a moment, and he looks down to the river below, then up to Ellinka as she begins to walk along the edge of the bridge under cover of the storm.

«Hurry up, we have more work to do.» Rico snorts out a sigh at her orders, pulling himself up to his feet, but not daring to abandon his cigarette. The south-american soldier peers off towards the island of Manhattan in the distance, and blows out smoke through both of his nostrils, whipping around him like silvery thread from the wind and the snow.

This really is the end of the world, isn't it?


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December 20th: We Put the Fun in Dysfunctional Family Dinner
Previously in this storyline…
Misplaced Trust

Next in this storyline…
I Said it was Complicated

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December 20th: One More for the Ranks
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