Royal Python Organization

Welcome to the RP Organization!
If you're receiving this message it means you've peeked our interest.
Here at Royal Python we will send our operatives on missions to
Steal, Frame, Assassinate, Spy and/or Rescue our clients!

We love what you do, if you want to join us please state the following:​

• Name:
• Age:
• Height:
• Weight:
• Sex:
• Attributes/Skill Set:
• Favorite Type of Weapon:
• Hobbies:
• Clothes/Shoe Size:
• Describe a little about yourself:
• Team or Solo:

We need more information about you to pick the right missions, Clothes, and Styles that will suit you.
Teams will be put together at random, You'll placed together in a PM to discuss upon yourselves who the leader will be and plan out your missions.
Solo players will jump right into action.

Our Missions contain difficulty levels.
_____________________
★★★★★ - 5 Star Missions, Teams Only!
[For a team looking for a challenge, some of you might comeback with a few broken bones or worse.]
★★★★ - 4 Star Missions, Solo & Teams
[These missions will be the most challenging for those lone wolves out there, you'll come back banged up if you're not careful!
As for Teams you'll have to watch each others back or else you'll have someone dragging you down.]
★★★ - 3 Star Missions, Solo & Teams
[A walk in the park for teams be sure to stay on the look out! For those that are solo be high on alert]
★★ - 2 Star Missions, Solo & Teams
[Fun for teams and for Solo to brush up on their skills.]
★ - 1 Star Missions, Solo & Teams
[Teams will be able to get to know each other and get a feel for their skills.
For Solos this is a great start if you're new!]
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Missions and Payments will be assigned via PMs by @Akui.
At the end of a mission you'll be given cash to buy weapons or trade in junk you find on your missions
of course you may keep what you find.
Solo and Teams may pick their desired mission level and assignment.
Those that are badly injured will be taken care of in a flash.
(OOC: Each new mission is basically a time skip so those that are injured will be healed immediately. You or the team may decide how much so as the timeline is not one. The current year is 2016 for us so your characters can be doing missions in any month and day of this current year but not before your first mission date. )

Report back here and describe how your missions went to archive them for new operatives to come and read.
_____________________
Current Operatives:
Leader: CP
Manager: Akui
Wally
Ghost
Silent
Ezka
Jekyll Grim
_____________________
Current Teams:
-------
Alex Heinz
Gideon Steel
Jericho Cortes
Johanna Schuyler

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_____________________
(OOC: That's right, I'm making you guys the writers as well as the player, you'll be given a topic and setting from there you write how it went!
Solos were made for those who want to write on their own and can be posted on the spot here.
Teams on the other hand are to be like any other RP but it will be in a PM Group, Once completed the leader copies everything and paste it here to make a big story post.
You're all free to kill off your characters and make new ones, you're also not restricted to one team, just make a new character or transfer!)​

 

I like how this sounds. Take my info and sign me up for missions!


Name: Alex Heinz
Age: 31
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 135 Lbs
Sex: male
Attributes/Skill set: Has quick reflexes and great agility. These same attributes is what makes him so skilled in Kung Fu. He also has 20/15 vision, making him a natural dead eye and an excellent shot. Alex also has a great mechanical mind so working on cars and driving come naturally to him.
Favorite type of weapons: Hi-powered semi auto rifles
Hobbies: Rock climbing, photography, and also into classic cars/driving.
Clothes/shoe size: He likes to be (or at least look) professional when he’s on missions, so he dresses accordingly. But most of the time he usually tries to go for a casual white shirt/black suit outfit without a tie, and depending on the mission a pair of black leather gloves. He wears a size eleven shoe.
Team or Solo: Team.

Well, what can I say about myself? I’m a guy who likes to be professional and look like it as well. Not too serious but enough to get the mission done and to get along with anyone in any situation. Unless they’re shooting at me or want me dead, that’s where my cat like reflexes and smooth moves come in. Anyways In my downtime I like to go rock climbing and photography’s one of my passions as well. Whenever the weather’s not great you can always find me in my garage, working on my old classic muscle cars. They always need some work but are really fun to drive and look really nice. What’s a better way to arrive at a club or bar than in a nice sleek classic that sounds great! Also plenty of power to get away from whoever’s chasing me…. In case they really want me dead.

 

I recently got into rping with Pathfinder. I tried rping here once and it didn't go so well, but I'm willing to try and give this a shot cause it looks more organized.

I even threw in some drawbacks so my character has some weaknesses, 'cause everyone has weaknesses ya know.

Sorry for the text walls. I got into this a little bit.

• Name: "Wally"
• Age: 25
• Height: 5' 10"
• Weight: 130 lbs
• Sex: Male
• 
  
• Attributes/Skill Set: He's very quiet, almost as if he were a "dead man walking." He seldom speaks to strangers, and will only really talk with people he trusts or who is required to complete his mission. His quietness allows him to stalk and sneak up on people with ease and it also allows him to canvass areas or eavesdrop on conversations without being detected. He is highly educated, and is very knowledgeable about weaknesses in the human body and is able to exploit them almost effortlessly. This allows him to subdue foes that are twice his size and incapacitate people easily. His education also allows him to mimic other cultures, allowing him to more easily blend into a crowd or fool someone into thinking he is someone else [there are exceptions of course]. He also has an expansive general knowledge of countries all around the world. Ask him about a certain country, and chances are he knows something about its history and its current state. This could range from political matters to an old folktale. He is also knowledgeable of science, and can use his knowledge to concoct poisons provided he has the materials. He prefers to work alone, but will work with people if he trusts them enough.
• 
  
• Drawbacks: He is physically weak. He relies heavily on not being noticed in order to progress. A strong hit by someone of normal size is usually enough to knock him out. This also means he can't carry heavy objects for very long and needs rest after a struggle or using a lot of energy. He is also not trained in the use of machinery or large weapons, and cannot use them effectively. Also, he despises killing the innocent, and will always resort to non-lethal means of submission if he can. He will only use lethal means if required by his mission or if absolutely necessary.
• 
  
• Favorite Type of Weapon: Any weapon that is small and has a blade, be it a knife, dagger, or sickle.
• Hobbies: Reading Books, Fishing, Using the internet.
• Clothes/Shoe Size: His clothing varies based on his mission, but when he's not on a mission he usually wears casual clothes; a white t-shirt underneath a black sweater with black sweatpants. He usually wears running shoes, and he has a size 10 shoe.
• Team or Solo: Solo

 

Aight, let's do this.


Name: Unknown - An enigmatic figure, his name has never been found out, nor spoken. Commonly referred to as Ghost
Age: Unknown - Also having never been stated, he is assumed to be between 25 an 35.
Height: 6ft2
Weight: 180lbs
Sex: Male
Attributes/Skill Set:
Complete mastery over the martial art Muay Thai - during to his received training during his time in the occult, he was taught a more deadly version of Muay Thai.

An excellent aim with his chosen weapons - once again, due to his received specialised training on specific weapons, he learnt to use them with exact precision. A downside to this, however, is that he isn't as good with other weapons.

A heavy drinker - he will drink you under the table and then back up the other side without even feeling a little tipsy.

Chef - his talent with food can be succulent and scrumptious, or just as deadly as a bullet.

Favourite Type of Weapon: He used three separate weapons under different circumstances:

His signature cane:
He has a golden cane with a simple stud on the top. If the stud is rotated to the right, a blade sinks out of the bottom. The further the stud is twisted, the further the blade comes out. The cane itself, including the stud, is a metre long, with the fully extended blade, it is measured at 1.5 metres long. The inside of the cane is made of a steel and carbon alloy.

A pistol Crossbow:
His pistol crossbow has an auto-cocking system consisting of multiple inbuilt pulleys to pull back the string and hold it as such. The stock of the weapon itself had been entirely engraved with various symbols and words, one specific line being I do this for you.
Each bolt of the crossbow also contains a word inscribed onto it.

His final weapon is a standard edition M107 .50 caliber sniper rifle.

Hobbies: Practising his chosen martial art - Muay Thai. Consuming copious amounts of alcohol. Listening to classical music. Cooking.

Clothes/Shoe Size: He is clothed by a three piece black suit and plain black boots. His top, outer blazer pocket on the left side contains a handkerchief whereas his lower right, outer pocket contains a chained pocket watch. On the left flap of his suit is also a trimmed red rose. When out on the hunt, he wears black latex gloves. Size 11 shoes.

Appearance: Overall he has a lean, slightly muscular physique due to his nonstop training. He has light, pale skin and short cut jet black hair which does nothing to compliment his violet eyes. He also wields in his possession a stunning short, boxed beard.

Describe a little about yourself: Having spent a large portion of his time in an occult, he was trained as a killer and nothing else. His education was halted from a young age and he grew up learning about the world first hand. During his time in the occult, there were some issues he wasn't particularly fond of and decided to deal with them personally. This caused for his immediate termination. And that consisted of him being killed. Fortunately for him, he had been trained for such scenarios and made a daring escape before fleeing the country and spending a hefty sum of his life on the run. Upon finally settling down, he realised that the only job for him - the only thing he felt comfortable doing - was killing.

Team or Solo: Preferably solo.

 

• Name: Orace "Silent" Knight
• Age: 26
• Height:5'11"
• Weight: 180
• Sex:M
• Attributes/Skill Set: Extremely agile and Quick reaction time; slightly above average strength. Very quiet.
• Favorite Type of Weapon: twin daggers. Silenced pistols 2, assault rifle silenced.
• Hobbies: Sleeping, Fight Clubs, Assassinations, Drinking with friends, swimming.
• Clothes/Shoe Size: Usually dressed in basketball shorts and T shirt, Depends on area of the world is is sent. Size 12 Shoes.
• Describe a little about yourself: Orace was a naturally good shooter when he was younger. Was always a silent kid studied and learned how to fight due to his parents being huge into Mixed Martial Arts they wanted him to be a meal ticket. I mean he is still rich but not due to MMA.
• Team or Solo: solo

 

This sounds like it'll be fun.

Name: Jericho Cortes
Age: 37
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 189
Sex: Male
Attributes/Skill Set: Vast knowledge of weapons and has had CQC training.
Favorite Type of Weapon: Assult rifles and knifes
Hobbies: Drinking and smoking
Clothes/Shoe Size: Wears army fatigues usually and size 12 shoes
Describe a little about yourself: Ex-marine. Was discharged for unknown reasons and is looking for good paying work. Doesn't leave base often.
Team or Solo: Team

 

OOT: Secret...aaaagent man! Anybody? Never mind.


Name: Gideon Steel
Age: 30
Height: 6'
Weight: 183
Sex: Male

Attributes/Skill Set: A charismatic, smooth-talking infiltrator who excels at persuasion, blending in with a crowd, crafting disguises and close to mid-range combat when the situation calls for it. He prides himself on his reputation as a consummate professional who can just as easily talk or shoot his way out of just about any kind of trouble. He is also highly trained in various types of weapons and will often pick up whatever he can find in the field if his initial equipment isn't up to the task.
However, he is not without flaws, despite what he would have others think. He can be overwhelmed by multiple enemies with heavier equipment and he has very limited options against long-range weapons. His hand-to-hand combat skills are also somewhat lacking compared to other operatives at RPO as he mostly depends on his pistols for close-quarters combat.

Favorite Type of Weapon: SMGs and Pistols

Hobbies: Drinking fine wine, enjoying the company of beautiful women, taking long walks on the beach and --CLASSIFIED--

Clothes/Shoe Size: Almost always wears a black tuxedo with a white shirt, a red and black striped tie and dark sunglasses (when he's not wearing a disguise, obviously). Often wears a lightweight bulletproof vest underneath the tux during missions. Shoe size 12.

Describe a little about yourself: "What can I say? I enjoy the finer things in life. When I was in high school, I was an average student well on my way towards an average career going down a peaceful but rather...unglamorous path.

Not a day goes by where I'm not grateful that I found my true calling.

When I was 16, my father took me to a shooting range and we discovered that I had quite a natural talent for firearms. I kept practicing at a local shooting range with different pistols and rifles until my aim was nothing short of superb. When I was old enough, I told my parents that I wanted to join the military. They were against at first but soon enough I convinced them that it was the right thing for me to do. I always did have a way with words, or so I've been told.

After spending a few years in the armed forces, I was scouted out by Royal Python and the rest is pretty much history. And what an exciting, glamorous history it's been. When I'm on a mission, I usually like to bring lighter weapons that are easy to conceal, namely my custom MP7 submachine gun, my Glock 22 automatic pistol and my suppressed FN Five-seveN pistol for when I need to take my target down quietly."

Team or Solo: Team

 

Name: Elizabeth "Ezka" Rune
Age: 24
Height: 5'0"
Weight: 170 pounds
Sex: Female
Attributes/Skill Set: Mechanic and Engineer
Favorite Type of Weapon: Tanks and other gun platforms
Current Vehicle: ELC AMX Bis 90mm gun with 36 shells. Weighs 6 tons and can get up to 80 Km.
Hobbies: Collecting models of various military vehicles, Tinkering and improving vehicles and equipment
Clothes/Shoe Size: Typically wears overalls with a white shirt or coveralls while working. On missions she has plainclothes outfits or military style uniforms. Both are worn with steel toe boots.
Team or Solo: Is normally the heavy support on a Team but has been doing Solo missions recently.

Describe a little about yourself:
Born to a physicist and a mechanical engineer, Elizabeth Rune grew up in a practical home with emphasis on science and math from her parents. She graduated with a scholarship to MIT for engineering. During high school she had been a member of the robotics club and dabbled with automotive work. She became fascinated with tanks and military vehicles fro ma tabletop game her and her friends had made during this time. While attending MIT she quickly grew disenchanted with the format of her education because they wouldn't just let her build things. She completed her bachelor's degree in just under three years and began applying for government contractor positions. She eventually landed a gig with an R&D lab developing more advanced drone systems and bomb disposal robots.

The Python Organization contacted her after a few years of doing research and she happily accepted a more hands on role. In her new position, she is a chief mechanic and quartermaster for a branch of the organization and is more than happy to develop new and cool gadgets and weapons. Her true passion is restoring, or fabricating, new tanks and bringing them up to modern specs.

As far as her personality goes, she's rather no nonsense and task oriented, although she can become easily distracted by the various thoughts running through her mind. She often leaves projects abandoned half way through, resulting in messy work spaces and living quarters. While she can get by in social situations, she prefers the company of tools and metal as, "They might not work or fit the way you'd like them to, but they'll never hold a grudge over it. Now people on the other hand..."

As an agent in the field, she prefers to blast things into bloody bits and then sort out which chunks belong to who. Danger Close.

 

• Name: Johanna Schuyler
• Age: 29
• Height: 5'5
• Weight: 140
• Sex: Female
• Attributes/Skill Set: Combat Medic expertise, indepth knowledge of the human body, strategic
• Favorite Type of Weapon: FN-SCAR and Revolver
• Hobbies: Reading, Studying biology.
• Clothes/Shoe Size: She mostly wears a black tank top, brown cargo pants, combat boots, and fingerless gloves
• Describe a little about yourself: A former doctor and combat medic, Johanna grew up studying the human body, and wanted to heal those in need ever since she was a little girl. She usually keeps to herself.
• Team or Solo: Team

 

Name: Jekyll Grim
Age: 27
Height: 6' 3"
Weight: 250 lb.
Sex: Male
Attributes/Skill Set: Killing, (high and low profile), taking life
Favorite Type of Weapon: Shotguns, (namely the DP-12), and setting and diffusing explosives
Hobbies: Watching physics in action (ie; heads exploding, building crumbling, blood flying, etc), kittens, exercising
Clothes/Shoe Size: Black, armored, leather trench coat and pants, 13 shoe size, white skin, red sunglasses, shoulder length silver hair
Describe a little about yourself: Not much to say.
Left home when I was young, and found out lives could be taken and paid for. Don't really care for teams, unless they can keep up with me. Was in the military, but I was a bit too effective.
If you need it dead loudly, I am the one to talk to. If you need it dead quietly, I am the one to talk to. Have you ever seen the way a person's head will... oh, sorry, got a little carried away. Anyway, I don't do just killing.
If I have to.
Team or Solo: Solo (for now)

 

Kill the Killers: Terry Hardwells crusade. ​

Orace was just gearing up when his assignments came in. He took 3 of the 4. Lighting up a cigarette he put his pistols on the table and cleaned them. Making sure no jams would happen. He stood up and bolstered his pistols and walked down the corridor to exit the organization. Without word Everyone knew he was leaving. He was wearing a middle class press suit to fit in with the locals of his first assignment. Assassinate Terry Hardwell.

For those who don't know Hardwell was a big shot of the political world. He knew deep Intel about private organizations and fbi. He was likely to have a file on every assassin in the United States to Australia. He knew everything and so he decided to campaign against the blood money world. Greatly bashing Royal python, He wanted to make us fall. He figured he would become a target and so he tightened security especially when he was doing press conferences. He didn't want to risk his life more than he already was. Little did he know Orace would be waiting for him when he returned home that night.

Orace waited outside of Terrys house before he went out to his first press conference. Once he saw his bodyguards exit and open the car door for him they drove off. Orace noticed the house was pretty heavily guarded as well it wasnt going to be easy to get in but he would manage it. Going off to the side he saw a cellar window that seemed to be forgotten. With his slender figure he fit through it no problem. Now the suit he was wearing was black as he needed to blend in with the body guards. Going upstairs he patrolled the perimeter of the house noticing the security got increasingly weaker. Finally he made it to Terrys bedroom. It was well decorated. A small couch over in the far left corner for esteemed guest and his bookers. What a glamorous socialite life. As he noticed the sun was starting to go down the guards all walked downstairs and the car began to pull up. They opened the door and he sent most of his men home. Only about 3 or 4 bodyguards remained. The rest were home for the evening. Finally Terry went into his room to go to sleep. By this point Orace was hiding out of sight of Terry. Namely behind the door. Once Terry entered the room and shut the door Orace already had one of his daggers out and grabbed a hold of Terry and Put his hand over his mouth.

"Terry Hardwell." he whispered. "Your crusade ends. Its a shame you garnered so much attention as the leader of justice to die like a civilian."

Orace stabbed Terry in the chest repeatedly as if it was just a random stabbing on the street. The ground now covered in blood would have eventually shown that it was an assassination. And with Royal Python at the forefront of his dossier. He needed to think of something and fast. Wiping his blade off on Terrys shoulder he pulled out 1 of his pistols and opened the door. One of the guards was about to open the door when he was greeted with a headshot. One of the other guards in the other room saw it and discharged his weapon. The bullet hit Orace in the shoulder. Keeping composure Orace shot back and got another headshot. The gunshots drew the other 2 body guards. Both running up the stairs Orace went outside terrys room and shot both of them. Going back to Terry he shot his body with the rest of the magazine and left. The house was riddled with bullet holes and blood. Orace before leaving wiped his blood from the ground as the sirens drew closer he was already out.

Once he made it a safe distance from the house he made his way back to royal Python. Once he was in his chambers he himself pulled the pulled out with tweezers. Poured alcohol on the wound and stitched it himself. Hurt like a bastard but he managed. Walking up to Akui he handed in his assignment. Mission complete.

Terrys death was chalked up to gang violence.

6-19-16 Mission complete.

Fight Club​

.The next night Orace went out and went to the local tournament that was being hosted. He decided to try his hand over there.

Round 1 Orace knocked out His combatant in 4 swings.

Round 2 1 punch.

Round 3 Was closer as the guy he fought was 2 weight classes above him. He ended up winning by a lucky bunch while he was on the ground. From the ground he managed to knock out the combatant.

Last round was quick. Orace knocked the wind out of the fighter and gave a swift uppercut for the knockout bringing home the prize.

Mission success 6-20-16

 

Report of first operation carried out by Agent Elizabeth Rune on behalf of the Royal Python Organization.

Spoiler: Operation 1

Client: Anne Dean

Objective: Win Race



I let out a yawn as I worked diligently on the plans for a vehicle I had been sent by Director Akui. Despite being Chief Mechanic, with a rather heavy load of things occupying my time as it was, the Director still felt the need to dispatch me on assignments like a normal field agent. I was grateful to him for that. If it wasn't for the occasional chance to go have some fun, I bet I'd be high strung on coffee and some other drug to keep me going until the inevitable heart attack in my mid 30s.

“Hey, Kid,” I looked up from my computer at the man who had poked his head into my office. The grey haired man was named Reed Thomas and he was my direct subordinate in Royal Python. He was in his late forties and had been a mechanic for forever, longer than I'd been alive. I heard a rumor that he had turned down the head mechanic position, which was the only reason that I was the one sitting behind the desk now.

“I told you to call me, Chief, Boss, or just Ezka,” I reminded him in a bored tone. It had long since stopped annoying me when he referred to me as Kid. Although some of the junior members of the maintenance division would occasionally pick up on the habit and I'd have to set them straight on who the boss was.

“So is it here yet?”

“That she is,” he said with a grin. “The guy's who brought her didn't seem too happy with giving us the reigns.”

Getting up from behind my desk, I hit the button that would send my design schematics to the rest of the team involved in the preparation for this Operation. Reed led the way out onto the main floor of Maintenance and to the back corner that was my R&D team. Stepping through the sound proofed door just showed another smaller maintenance bay. It was different in only one way, this section was one hundred percent mine. The rest of the Maintenance Department had a few Chiefs, I was one of them, seeing as this was the Organization's main base there was a lot of headbutting going on. Thankfully the only major politicking I had to do was figuring out who took what equipment from us and how to get it back without them knowing.

The dirty bay had equipment and tools crammed against the walls wherever they could fit and comfort had clearly not been in mind when the setup was being done. There was barely any space to sit, unless you counted the oil stained concrete, and even then, space was tight. The smell of paint and petrol would easily gag those unprepared for it. But today there was something new and rarely seen in this section of Maintenance.

The recently delivered Porsche 918 Spyder sat in the middle of the bay, looking tiny compared to the normal occupants of the bay. It had been painted the driver's colors and the number was on the door; black and lavender number 77. A beautiful car, if I cared about that all that much. The specs were impressive, but it was no tank. The light metal and plastic would hardly stop bullets, the tires easily shredded, the entire thing was one good hit from utter annihilation. Which is kind of what I had in mind for at least some of the modifications I had planned for him. (Reed hates when I call any vehicle, He. Says it's bad luck or something. No idea why it seems pretty dumb to me.)

“Where did you put my tanks?” I asked with a note of suspicion in my voice. Of all the things we work on here, the tanks are my pampered babies. If I had kids... well they'd better be born with tracks or something. Cyborg babies, that'd be cool.

“Out back, Boss,” Antonio said as he came in from the parking lot wiping his hands on a dirty rag. Finished he expertly flung it a few feet away to land on a rack that held others of its kind.

“You better not have scratched my Elkie,” I warned him.

“Relax, Boss, it's a tank,” he said with a chuckle.

“Light tank,” I corrected him. I trusted Antonio to drive the tanks the short distance to where I liked to park them outside. At least then the only thing he could hurt was what he ran into.

“Whatever,” he said and went to stand by the screen that I liked to hold my quick briefings on.

When we had everyone accounted for there was a total of six of us here in Research and Development. Me and Reed were in charge, though Reed took care of most of the tiny things and only came to me for important design questions or concerns from the rest of the team.

Antonio Garcia is three years older than myself, twenty-seven. He looks younger than I do, some people just get all of the luck. A good electronics guy. He can usually figure out how to make the majority of my crazy ideas a reality. I don't really trust him to drive his own car to work in the morning though.

Then you have the Twins, Luke and Jessica Baldwin. Aside from myself Jessica is the only other woman on our team. In the whole maintenance department here there's maybe fifteen of us. Suffice to say, even if you don't really like one another, girls have to stick together. The two of them make a good team when it comes to building things. Give them the tools and the parts and they'll build anything you want in half the time it should take. It's usually all up to specifications too.

Then finally there's Derrick Jones. He doesn't like me much but him and Reed are good friends. He's probably upset that Reed turned down my position and has to listen to some uppity brat tell him how to do his job. Thankfully he listens to Reed and gets his work done.

“Alright folks, now that everyone's assembled,” I said with a warm smile despite the time of night it was.

“Everyone who isn't a vampire,” I heard Derrick mutter. Ignoring him I continued.

“So that nice looking car over there is going to be our project, I already drew up some plans but if you want to add something you think up yourself, let Reed know.”

I turned on the screen and began my rundown on what I wanted done on the Spyder. There were some groans and even a few gasps that may have indicated some sort of blasphemy against the car gods or something. Oh well. I wrapped up and looked at my team. “So any questions?”

“You really want us to mess up a perfectly good car just so you can feel like it's one of your tanks?” Derrick asked in his usually gruff tone of voice.

“Oddly enough, the Director didn't exactly say what kind of race I'd be participating in, so I want to be ready just in case. Anything else?” No one said anything, although Luke and Antonio seemed disturbed by my choice of equipment to add. Jessica seemed her usually detached self.

“Alright boys and girls, you heard the Chief,” Reed said. “Let's get a move on.” Grumbling about another all-nighter they all shuffled off to get to work. “And for you, Kid, go get some sleep. It won't due for the client to see you dead to the world. Gotta let her have faith in something.”

I made a few small complaints and tried to get myself to work with the others, but Reed took me by the shoulder and gently dragged me outside.

“Go home, get some sleep. I know you've been up for days already.”

“But what about-”

“Don't worry, you think I can't handle those knuckleheads? Been doing this too long. It'll all be perfect when you show up tomorrow.”

Still grumbling somewhat, I turned the key in the ignition and went to my apartment.

Reed hadn't been wrong, I definitely felt better after getting six hours of sleep, but I was still paranoid that the whole team hated me for skipping out on them as they worked. Every time I bring it up Reed laughs and tell me that I'm the boss and bosses don't actually work. Still, I always tried to do as much as I can which is part of the reason why I rarely get any sleep.

“So how'd he come out,” I asked Reed with a yawn.

“She,” he corrected me, “came out just fine. There was a problem with the weight so we had to spruce up the engine a bit more than planned. Which means that it will use a lot more gas than anticipated. Bu the made the tank a bit larger too. Other than that we couldn't add a couple of things because of the amount of power it would drain from the car itself.”

“Doesn't it have electric batteries?”

“They don't do too much. Everything still pretty much relies on the engine.”

“Well let's get it loaded up,” I checked my watch, “We have about six hours before we're supposed to meet Ms. Dean and find out what this race is.”


6 Hours later in Marion, Indiana


“It's nice to meet you, Ms. Dean,” I said taking the woman's hand and lightly shaking it. “My name is Ezka Rune and this is Reed. We are the ones you called about.”

“Ah yes,” she said taking her seat at the table. The two of us followed suit.

It was a nice restaurant, a bit too fancy for my tastes, but hey, once you get used to a certain lifestyle it isn't easy to break out of it. Being a a famous race care driver and having a few generations of famous race car drivers in the family brought that certain lifestyle with it. Well at least the organization was paying for the meal.

“I'm glad you let us speak with you before the race, there are a few things I'd like to discuss with you.”

“And those would be?” She asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Namely, I'd like to know what kind of race I'm supposed to be winning. Aside from that a convincing way to make sure people think that I'm you and not the imposter that I most definitely will be.”

Ms. Dean covered her mouth with one hand and I heard her laughing quietly.

“I think you might be a little short to be me,” she said still giggling.

“But I am a woman, something my loyal follower here is not. He is also too tall to be you, and a little more built.”

“Loyal follower,” Reed mused. “Haven't heard that one before, Kid.”

I felt my body stiffen, I wasn't too sure if I was keeping my expression friendly or not. Of all the things he goes and does! He says that in front of the client! How... How could he?

“Shall we get down to business?” Ms. Dean asked politely, an amused smile on her face. I was more than eager to get down to it.



“Well, this certainly was an eventful night,” Anne said slyly giving me a wink. For the millionth time in the last hour I struggled to figure out what to say in response, so instead I just stayed quiet and averted my eyes just a little. This got a laugh out of the kind of tipsy race driver.

“Grow another five inches, Kid, and you'll be a natural,” Reed said with a grin from the corner of the room. I felt myself blushing, whether I was ashamed or happy I wasn't too sure.

“I look forward to watching your race tomorrow, Elizabeth,” Anne said with a laugh.

Finally closing the door behind us and walking away from that woman's hotel room I felt all of the doubts and fears come rushing in at once.

“I'm going home,” I declared quietly. “Go home, sit in my Elkie and go to sleep. Just stay all locked up nice and safe, away from lecherous old men and flirty drunk women.”

“And what if, as your father, I say you have to stay and finish the race tomorrow or you're grounded, young lady?”

“Not this agaaaiiinn!” I whined.

“No prom, no boyfriends, no going to mall or the beach instead of school. No radio after six thirty,” He was laughing as he spoke. He put has hand on my head. I brushed it off with both hands and covered my head with my hands.

“You're not my father,” I said, still whining.

“Then maybe you just like older men who remind you of him?” He lifted on eyebrow and looked ta me with odd eyes.

“You really are a lecher.” He just laughed. At that as we went down to the lobby and caught a cab to our, much cheaper, motel.

The three of us had all had a bit to drink that night. After my outburst at the restaurant, we'd beaten a quick retreat from the angry glares of the waiters. That and our conversation was no longer private and was therefore, unsafe to continue.

“What do you mean it's just a regular race?” I had said in just below a shout but still rather loudly. “What do you mean!”

“It's just an official street race,” Anne had said. About a quarter of the way into our night together she had insisted we use her first name. Being called Ms. Dean made her uncomfortable. “Put on by the same people who host the Indy 500 and the Brickyard 400. Just on cordoned off sections of the city streets. What kind of race did you think I would be in?”

“Well they didn't really tell us, so I was just trying to be safe and cover nay potential problems that might arise...” I felt myself twitching. I didn't like it when I was twitching. My eye had already gone numb and everything.

“Is she okay?”

“She'll be fine once she accepts that all of the work we put into your car is for nothing.”

“Oh,” Anne said simply in an unsure tone of voice. “Is it okay if I ask what you've done with my car, or is that not okay?”

“Not trying to hide anything from you, but this isn't exactly the place,” Reed said looking around while I continued to freak out over what I'd just heard.

A normal race! Just a plain old stinking normal race! I can't even... I can't do anything. The Organization will get blamed, I'll be retired. God damn it, god damn it, god damn it!

“Please tell me someone is at least trying to kill you, or have you killed, or kidnap you for the sex trade! Something, anything!” I said once again more loudly than I should have. Noticing things such as that is always a good thing for a field agent. Knowing when your cover is blown, or something isn't right. The cone of silence around our table and the acute feeling of multiple people staring at me caused my body to start sweating profusely.

“You should probably ask for the check now,” Reed suggested wisely. “And as for your question, if my boss's overactive yelling was any clue, let's just say if your vehicle is inspected tomorrow you'll be thrown out of the league forever and probably I an federal prison. My only explanation for you right now is, she likes tanks. A lot.” He said as we quickly exited from the building and into the warm night air.


Anne had invited us to her hotel, which turned out to be another rather fancy establishment that me and Reed had no right being in unless this was some kind of spy movie. When the door closed shut behind us, Anne had taken me by the hand and started teaching me how best to be her. We talked about how she walked, talked and acted in public, although we both agreed that we'd switch when she “won” the race. So with luck no one would actually see me outside of the car. Her driving habits were of particular importance and a few of the flourishes she did for her fans. Which was blowing a kiss out of the window whenever she felt like it was okay to take her hand off the wheel.

“I don't think I'll be doing that,” I told her truthfully.

“Why is that?”

“Elizabeth here is afraid of cars,” Reed joked.

“I'm not afraid of them!” I shot back. “I just... really hate the idea of getting in a wreck.”

“It's never a good thing,” Anne conceded, “But with all the safety features on modern day race cars, it's not much of an issue. Unless of course you removed them to make room for more weapons.”

“I did not! I wouldn't allow it.”

And then because I had had a bit of a rather flavorful red wine that Anne was sharing with me, I told her the story about my best friend from high school. Her parents had picked her up from school along with her younger brother who I had been kind of dating. I say kind of because high school kids have no idea what dating is. Anyway, their parents pick them up for what was going to be a pretty awesome vacation, no an amazingly spectacular vacation, to Hawaii. Hawaii damn it! Nothing but beaches, hot guys on said beaches and at least for me the culture of the islands themselves. I don't' recall what Michelle was more interested in than that.

They never made it. Not really much of a spoiler though. They had been somewhere in the rocky mountains when a thunderstorm hit. A tanker truck lost control and pushed their SUV over the side and when they hit the ground the thing caught on fire. But not like the movies where it explodes like a nuclear bomb, it just flashed all at once most likely. When the rescue teams finally found the wreckage, it had been burned up pretty badly. They'd found traces of someone leaving from the wreck and following the trail had found two corpses. There hadn't been much skin left on them, so they were mostly skeletons. The leading opinion was that it was either Michelle and her father who had lived a bit longer or it was the truck driver that had pulled her out and then taken her off into the woods. I personally prefer thinking that it was her dad. Either way they were killed by a bear or wolves. Not a nice death, in any way shape or form.

“And so I thought she was haunting me for a while. But then all of the activity stopped, so I dunno,” I said with a shrug.

“Well that was... certainly different.,” Anne said.

“And tanks don't explode,” Reed chuckled to himself.

“It really isn't nice to supervise your daughter's first date, you know. This is supposed to be a solo experience.”

“Wait what?” Completely taken off guard. “Date? I... huh?” I looked quickly between the two of them, terrified for some reason instead of utterly confused. The two of them burst out laughing.

“But I don't date women.”

“Maybe it's older guys then?” I felt my blush deepen. I did have something to say this time though. I directed my gaze pointedly at Reed.

“Not. A. Word.” He wisely kept his mouth shut.

Then for some reason Anne ended the evening off with a dance. Well it was more of a dance lesson, as aside from my playing around by myself in fantasy land ,I had no clue what I was supposed to do. Isn't a girl just supposed to know this stuff? I mean come on. I never knew it was that complicated. (It isn't too complicated) Movies always made it seem to easy. Everyone knew exactly what to do, from the village stomp to the high society balls. Lying children's writers.

So now here I was, lying in my crummy motel bed, listening to Reed take a shower and trying to keep my drunk mind off of what Anne had said about liking older men.


The Next Day


“Good luck, Kiddo,” Anne said giving me a hug as I stood there in my protective gear.

“Th-Thanks,” I said, my mind still flustered from last night.

Opening the Spyder's door I sat down and pulled the helmet over my head. The door slammed shut as I hit the button to start the engine. Everything looked good, fuel was full, temperature was good, all the other gauges were good. I carefully pulled out onto the road and drove to the starting line.

“You're position fifteen,” Reed said over the radio. “Remember, come in for a pit stop somewhere between lap ten and fifteen. There are thirty laps in this thing and that larger tank we were able to put in now should last you about half the race instead of less than that. Just keep yourself calm and you'll be fine. Break a leg, honey.”

“I really hate you sometimes,” I told him. H e was probably laughing although I couldn't hear it over the headset.


Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel I waited for the light to turn green. Since this was a “Street Race,” the starting line was an intersection so they were using regular traffic lights to signal the beginning of the race. I kept waiting for someone to come running over to me and pull me out of the car. The only good thing was that this race would be a bit slower than normal due to all of the turns. So it would probably only be 200 miles an hour instead of 400.

The light turned yellow. Cars around me began to rev their engines slightly. I had never been in a race before, unless you count one of the variety of racing video games. This was a real car, these were real people around me. If I crashed them they might die and that would be a not good thing.

“Just remember what Anne said. Remember what Anne said.”


The light turned green.


I floored the gas and shot forward with the rest of the cars. It was at this moment that I realized I didn't memorize the layout of the track. I spent the first few laps towards the back of the pack just trying not to crash myself and die. I had a reinforced roll cage along with several other safety features if I got into a crash I'd walk out without hardly a scratch. Still though, burned alive and then eaten by a bear after possibly spending a night with the equally burned alive red neck truck driver that killed your family... Think of tanks, Elizabeth. Think of blowing stuff up. The nice crunch of treads driving over stuff...

After the sixth lap I fell into the groove of things and began moving up the positions to fifth and then fourth. I was just about to take third when Reed came over the radio.

“Come into the pit this lap or you'll run out of fuel.”

I did so and watched as all of the rest of the cars went rushing by me. I pulled in, forgot briefly which one was supposed to be mine before I saw the black and lavender sign with a 77 on it. I came to a full stop and was then being told to, “Go! Go! Go!” after only a few seconds of hurried activity. Needless to say I was stunned by their speed. Pulling back out onto the track I gunned the engine as much as I dared to try and catch up with the rest of them.

The next lap all of the rest of them except a few went into the pits. Using the added speed of the stronger engine and some of the tricks Anne told me to try, I pushed past those drivers still on the track before they too went in for a pit stop. On an open road, suddenly ahead of all of the others I just went as fast as I could. After almost losing control on one of the sharper turns, I slowed down enough to feel safe but not enough to get too far behind.

I think that it was on lap twenty five, or maybe it was twenty seven, somewhere just before the end of the race one of the drivers wrecked their car. I didn't really find out all of the details on what happened, just that it happened. He lived though, really wasn't even injured. So good. But they pulled out a caution flag just as the guy who'd been dogging me for the last however many laps pulled in front of me, stealing second. I set myself up in a position to shoot past him as the caution flag went away. I got past him and then he'd somehow slip by me. As we both shot across the finish line, it came down to a high speed camera to determine who had crossed before who. It turned out his vehicle had a more pronounced grill by just an inch or two. So I came in third.


“Congratulations!” Anne said hugging me again as we stood in a secluded area. My entire body was numb from the vibrations of the car and I was shaking all over from adrenaline. “That was amazing for your first race!”

She was incredibly hyper for not having done anything. I couldn't really talk just at the moment so I just nodded and found the closest thing for me to sit on.

“I'll catch up with the two of you later. Meet me at my hotel room and we can have a celebration of our own.” I nodded again without replying as she walked out into the light of day and the cheering crowd.

Reed stepped out of the shadows and helped me to my feet. “So missions accomplished?”

“Accomplished,” I replied wearily. “She invited us over again for more drinks.”




It wasn't until that night that I found out I'd come in third place. Anne kept trying to give the trophy to me, since I'm the one who actually earned it.

“You know, since you did so good as me this race,” Anne said slurring her words a bit. “You could, like, win all of my races for me.”

“But won't your dad get mad or something?” I asked, also slurring my words. Reed had bailed on me that night, I don't know what he was doing.

“If he finds out, I can just go back to working on cars, then you'll be the superstar race driver and I'll be your head mechanic.” She said with a giggle.

“I'm already a chief mechanic,” I said. “I think I'm okay with that. Well that and Tank Nut.”

“You're a mechanic,” Anne asked with awe in her voice. I nodded enthusiastically.


I woke up that next morning with a pounding in my head and looked around me. I had no idea where I was. Alarmed I shot up in the bed I was laying in and looked around.

“Good morning,” someone said from my left. I whipped around, my body tensing up for attack if necessary. Anne stood in the doorway to the bathroom wearing a lavender bathrobe.

“Good morning?” I said I return, confused. “I slept here last night?”

“I wouldn't say sleep so much as passed out.”

I lay back down when a notion suddenly strikes me. I lift up the blanket just to be sure. I have my clothes on. Not all of them, but enough so that it would count.

“So then, Chief,” Anne said climbing onto the bed with me, “When do I come to work?”

TL DR
Hired by race car driver to supe up her car and take her place in the race. Filled car with weapons n stuff. Found out it was a legal race so no weapons allowed. Did the race, came in third. Gained a new subordinate.