Phase Two


ethan_icon.gif kazimir_icon.gif

Scene Title Phase Two
Synopsis Days after the events at Sea View, Kazimir brings the second phase of his plan into action.
Date October 18, 2008

Staten Island Boat Graveyard

Exactly where land gives way to water at this point of the island's edge is uncertain - first because of the saltgrass growing everywhere, both on dry earth and in the shallows, giving the illusion of solidarity; second for the structures visible in the distance, drawing the eye away from the deceptive ground, suggesting its reach extends beyond its grasp. Even if the structures are still recognizable as ships, and nothing that ever belonged on land.

There are a multitude of them, abandoned hulls of salt-stained wood and rust-pitted steel, dying slow and ungraceful deaths as wind and water claim their dues. Some still appear to rest upright, braced upon the debris of older, lost relics below; others list to one side, canted at an odd angle like someone who just struggled to the surface in search of a desperate breath. There are no hands to pull these hulks from the water, no ropes to save them from drowning; each has been surrendered to the sea, left to the ravages of unmerciful time.

At low tide, some of the closer ships can be reached - not without getting soaked, but such is the price of daring. Never mind that the rotting metal and splintered wood are the stuff of nightmares for any germophobe, definite hazards to the unwary. The more distant ships are distant indeed, beyond the reach of all but the most bold - and are all but submerged besides.

After the last hints of daylight fade from the land, the boat graveyard on Staten Island takes on a haunted life all its own. The crumbling hulls of ruined vessels that lay scattered across the shoreline are like nautical grave markers, each one of the decaying ships jutting out of the high tide at skewed angles. Parked not far from the shoreline where the gravel road and scrub grass meet is a black sedan, headlights and engine turned off. Far from the vehicle, a single man stands in silent vigil, hands resting atop the steel wolf's-head cane that supports some of his weight.

Forty-eight hours ago, Kazimir Volken recieved confirmation that a transport would be arriving with requested supplies and personnell. In that time, unexpected complications have delayed many necessary arrangements, but not delayed the master himself from waiting to meet the new arrival from Europe by way of South America. It is in these dark hours that the humming buzz of a small watercraft makes its way through the derelict ships trapped at the shoreline, a Zodiac raft used to discretely deploy cargo from a larger vessel incapable of coming close to shore. This raft, however, is deployed for more clandestne reasons. The matte-black raft is piloted by a single member of the crew from aboard the Invierno, a ship used to smuggle goods and people from South America into North America.

The raft navigates around the ship, piloted at full speed towards the shoreline before driving itself up through the scrub grass and plowing onto the land. The pilot of the vessel immediately leaps out, "Senhor Volken, é bom vê-lo outra vez!" He straightens his curly, windblown black hair, hustling up from the vessel to the shoreline, leaving his passenger and his belongings in the raft.

"Matthew, quantos anos foi?" The gray-haired man steps forward, his tone light despite the rough and gravley sound of his voice. Portugese is but one of the many tongues, it would seem, Kazimir has had the time to familiarize himself with in his long lifetime. "Havia algum problema?"

Matthew shakes his head, looking back to the man in shadow seated in the raft, then back to Kazimir. "Nenhum senhor. Nós temos que ser rápidos, protetor de costa estaremos vindo logo." He looks out to the water, anxiously, and Kazimir merely nods silently, stepping around the crewman towards the raft.

"Welcome to the States…" There is relief in Kazimir's voice, relief and welcoming, whoever has been brought here is someone he seems keen on inviting back into the fold.

"It's about fuckin' time." Comes the cockney accent as the athletic figure of Ethan 'Wolf' Holden steps onto the bow of the Zodiac then plops down into the Earth below. He carries several bags and because of it he looks like a regular pack mule. "I hope you appreciate all this, sir. Had quite a time of gettin' it up 'ere." A bag slung over each shoulder, and a duffle bag in each hand and a hikers backpack make up his arsenal of gear. Taking a few steps Ethan takes a deep breath. His stone features looking over to Kazimir before he softens somewhat.

"Thank you sir, it is an honor to be servin' directly under you again." Ethan offers bowing his head deeply for a moment to the far elder man. "How 'ave you been gettin' on without me?" He says with a slight smirk as he trods up towards his master.

"Tome suas coisas e saia de minha jangada, mim não será disparado para você." Matthew's words are sternly said like a command to his passenger, circling around the raft to remove several large ammo cases from the raft, stacking them up on the ground, along with other assorted contraband. Kazimir's black shoes crunch the gravel beneath his feet as he walks, tucking his cane beneath one arm as he holds out a black-gloved hand towards the man emerging from the raft. Matthew takes the raft by the handles on the side, beginning to push it back out to the water.

"I agree," Kazimir says with a mild smile, "It's been too long, Ethan." The grip is firm, much strength left in this old man's frame. "Things have been going fairly, for this region of the world. I know you'll want to get straight down to business," He says, turning away from the raft to rest one hadn on Ethan's shoulder, "But this is a rather unique field I'm putting you into, and I want you to take a few days to familiarize yourself with the environment. Take in the people, the political climate. Don't make any immediate movements on targets." It's an odd request from the usually proactive Kazimir.

"The public has taken a significantly intense look into my activities by means of the press. We're operating under American media outlets now, and they'll jump at any misshapen corpse they find. I've whirled them up into a firestorm of fear and helplessness, and my Conscience has done his part to muddle their investigations. But now, we're on to the second phase of operations, which is where you'll be absolutely essential."

Ethan's eyes move to Matthew, he can put together most of what the man says. But now that he is in the presence of his master, he waits for the say so to move again. The smile is returned as Kazimir matches the man's grip. Once released he stands straight without slouching hands down at his side at the ready. Always alert, always ready. That's why he's still alive. "Very well." Ethan murmurs to Kazimir's first set of instructions.

"Why don't we pin it on someone else? The evolved terrorist group? I could start blowing stuff up, use the same stuff they did. The right word said 'ere. The right grafitti there.. a paid witness, wha'ever. An' you got the media blamin' it all on them." Ethan suggests, his eyes following Kazimir closely.

"Always ahead of the game," It's the closest to priase Kazimir affords to his subordinates, "The idea is to hide the elephant in the crowd, as it were. Half of the city is hanging on my next move, waiting for the next ashy corpse to spring up." He slowly walks with Ethan towards the car, even as the sound of the raft's enging firing up resounds back on the shore, followed by a distant farewell from Matthew as he brings the raft back out onto the water. "I made myself open, let the public see who I am. For the lot of good that will do them in the end. The police should have an idea who they're dealing with now, but all it will do is increase the level of confusion and panic, espescially with the misdirection." He stops, somewhere between the car and the cargo, and turns to face Ethan.

"From this point on, they won't find any more ashen bodies. I'm going to put you in charge of executions. Follow Amato and Munin's intelligence, and your own instincts. What we're looking to accomplish now is exactly what you proposed, pinning the blame on the next string of deaths to that group of disaffected civilians." His eyes wander out to the rotting ships in the water. "The gear I instructed you to bring should help accomplish that well enough. Take some time to get familiar with their modus operandi, and move at your own pace." He turns, then, to look at the car. "That is yours, I drove it out here, but I have no intentions of driving it back. the Vin has been removed. It's legitimate on paper, should you be pulled over." His eyes narrow, focusing back on Ethan, "You secured servicable paperwork for your stay here, I presume?"

Carrying his bags full of gears and other toys that he favors, Ethan walks silently beside his master until the man stops short. Listening intently, Ethan makes eye contact with his elder. He nods slowly, a smile creeeping on his lips. "Thank you, sir. It is an honor."He gives, bowing his head once again to the man. "I'll know these terrorists better than they know themselves. I might have to make some of the hits look sloppy though. As if a civillian 'as done it. Can't make it look too good." Ethan rambles more to himself, drawing up his own game plan. He looks to the car. "Thank you sir. I appreciate it." Then to his last question he nods, "Of course sir, above and beyond. I'm with an international Real Estate firm. Pulled some strings from some old associates and what not. A full front without putting a day in the office."

Kazimir nods approvingly, setting his cane back down and letting one gloved hand remain at rest on it. "We've worked together long enough that I trust your judgement. There should be a few more operatives and the last of the equipment coming in over the next thirty days." He starts for the car again, slow and patient steps interspersed with the tap of his cane. "You can take me back to our current base of operations. The standard procedure for safe-houses is in effect, so you should find a place of your own to occupy privately as the others have done." Walking over to the rear passenger's side of the sedan, Kazimir opens the door, one gloved hand resting on the roof. "I expect this may be a rough ride ahead of us," The metaphor doesn't come with a smirk, he knows how it is timed, "That's why I pulled you down here, Ethan. You're the best I've got at urban warfare…" His eyes focus down into the car for a moment. "We'll be getting to that part next." He then ducks down, settling into the back seat of the car, closing the door behind himself.

"More equipment? This is a black ops agents wet dream sir. I've got bird girl, all the toys I could dream of. My only regret is that it might be just too easy." Ethan says with a bit of a smirk. Looking to the car Ethan frowns. "You're fuckin' right it's gonna be a rough road. They've got the wheel on the wrong side 'ere." Ethan sighs before mumbling. "Welcome back to America." Going to the back, Ethan opens the door and shoves his bags in.

Popping the trunk, Ethan takes a quick jog back to the rest of the supplies wherein he will load them in the trunk of the car. Once that's done and the trunk is closed Ethan slides into the drivers seat. "It has been a good bit since I've been in a war, sir. About time I get back into the swing o' things." The door closes. The ignition is turned on and the car backs up swiftly only to hit an abrupt stop. "Ep. Sorry. Brakes are more sensitive than I'm used to." And with that, the car lumbers off into the darkness.

October 18th: We'll Be Okay

Previously in this storyline…
Bedside Manner

This is the end of a storyline.

October 18th: Cruelty in Kindness
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