Spoopy Scary

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

The Dreadnaughts

_@Maxx

---

Grit, in the back, could only bury his face further and further into his hands the more Sam talked back on the comlink. Blood, rage, and steam were all rushing to Washe's head, filling up his face until he felt damn near ill from it. Then, Washe took a great breath and slowly but steadily breathed it all out in one big, heavy sigh. He nudged his sunglasses, prompting them to fall into place over his eyes. He made a glance over at the satellite live-feed on the screen beside him, showing he was just about a mile from their destination.

Grit looked up, and felt a twinge of sympathy for the KINGFISHER agent. Only a twinge, though – the man was a stranger, and decided to give lip to Washe of all people. Did he have a death wish? Washe was the scariest guy Grit knew; when he was pissed, you could feel it radiating off onto every other soldier on the mission. But that was just the fringe; when you were the target of his abuse, it didn't matter how defiant you were beforehand, it was all replaced with complacency. “Yes sir” replaced all other words in your mouth. But even more worrying was when the man fell silent. Grit knew the old man better than almost anybody, he was often on the receiving end of his yelling. His silence was nothing more than a shroud amidst which a violent storm may brew. FALCON was just so lucky that he was probably in his forties, wasn't Washe's subordinate, and didn't have to be Washe's target face-to-face and only heard his voice over the comlink.

“Bullshit, eh?” Washe grumbled, outside of the agent's channel and range of hearing. “You want bullshit? I go and introduce myself as fucking Caesar on his faggoty-ass channel, and the dolt still asks for identification. No wonder this city is going down the fucking shitter, their fucking elite units ain't got deductive skills worth shit. And immature? Heh, the prick hasn't been in the military, has he? Fucker would get his fuckin' lights knocked out for insubordination like that. If your high-command issues you a commander, you fuckin' deal with it. Little pansy bitch could only slow us down.”

“Yeah... a real piece of work.” Grit agreed hesitantly.

There was definitely some scary trouble brewing. They had the records and names of undercover agents and everything – and the Dreadnaughts are able to get away with quite a bit. Letting him be aware they know where he lives is nothing. But Washe doesn't take his revenge halfway.

Grit jumped from his seat and reached towards the front, grabbing the microphone that was attached to the to the radio unit, warranting a nasty glare from Washe.

“And just what the fuck do you think you're doing?” He spat.

“Hey, hey, hey, come on! Just let me see if I can talk him down and recover everythin', alright?” Grit said in his attempt to assuage his commander.

“You mean talk him to death, right? As delightful as that sounds, fuck off. I doubt that even Baron rubbing off is enough to fix the likes of you.”

Grit rolled his eyes and held onto the button on the microphone.

“Heeellloooo, KINGFISHER agents! This here is Danny Grit of the Dreadnaughts speaking! Y'all wanna make this interestin'? Let me apologize for my partner here then, a'right? If you're willing to work with me and a volatile stick of a dynamite, then I promise we're gonna have one hell of a time!”

He looked smugly at Washe, who glaring at Grit from the corner of his eye, and drew back.

“And hey, Caesar's a scary dude, but I promise the ol' dog ain't all bark. We'll make the experience worthwhile for y'all.”

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

Then smash your face against the keyboard.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

Maxx's fault.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

No, keeping doing it. Remain consistent. You have put this garbage filth upon you, now you shall suffer for it. Reap what you've sown.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

<Snipped quote by BurningDaisies>

Excuse you, the correct term is SEXUAL TYRANNOSAURUS.

@Mr Allen J

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

There are also these butter pills or something that you stick in your butt and it has little bit of medicine and numbing agents in the center. I had to take one of them once.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

That's not the only thing you can expand. :^)

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

The Dreadnaughts

_@Maxx

---

There was a brief moment of silence in the vehicle, after Washe had announced himself on the NEST channel. Soon enough, however, someone on the other side broke that silence.

“Caesar,” the voice said, “this is a secure NEST radio channel. Unidentified users are prohibited by penalty of law. Identify yourself – over!”

Grit scooted over a little further in the back and was scratching the back of his head nervously, knowing what was coming next. On the bright side, at least they found out that Washe was on the right channel.

“Fucking IDENTIFY myself?!” Washe roared in a rage-filled tantrum. His booming voice drowned everything else in the car, and deafening to its other occupant. This fit of anger inadvertently caused the van to lurch forward as his foot pressed the gas pedal harder. The presumed KINGFISHER agent was fortunately spared from his ear being blasted by the assailing thunder. “Well just what the FUCKING SHIT do you think I just fucking did, dipshit! Did his bitch of a mother shit him through the wrong fucking hole?!”

Washe ripped the intercom from the dash and stuck it close to his lips.

“Listen here, you fucking novice! This is the operations and logistics officer of the fucking Dreadnaughts. You're gonna sit your little bitch ass down and fucking call me Caesar, am I clear? Your God damn superiors including that Asian, Korean, or-what-fucking-ever bitch asked me for my help because you ass-lickers are apparently too busy jerking each other off to get any of y'all's shit done! They have made it my job to keep Darwinism from doing God's work by keeping your incompetent ass from fucking everything up and getting yourself killed, and to make sure one of their missions finally gets finished without any problems!

"Now you're gonna answer my fucking question, otherwise I'm gonna ask you to bring knee-pads and mouthwash by the time I get there: who the flying fuck are the participants of this channel? I am giving you ten seconds before I blast the whole God damn district in my attempt to ash you off the fucking face of this green Earth – and by God, don't you think I won't dare.”

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

The Dreadnaughts

_{@Mr Allen J@Maxx}

---

KINGFISHER agents, eh? Washe was briefed about NEST and some of the finer details, perhaps more in-depth than the others. At least, certainly more in-depth than Grit. NEST is a government sanctioned agency with its own fair share of secrets. However, even NEST has a branch more ambiguous than itself: the KINGFISHER agents. Supposedly, they are top-of-the-line agents, the best that NEST as a whole had to offer. On par with Navy SEALS, so on and so forth. This opportunity could give Washe the time desired to inspect the agents and watch them work, then review their portfolio later and determine what kind of firepower NEST was really packing. He wasn't no fool, though – he was once a marine, led several of his own missions. But Washe wasn't just a marine, no; he's a Dreadnaught, and his company makes SOG look like a bull in a china shop.

Agent Vuhong broke the silence, however. “It is great to meet both of you,” she said, “I hope to work together in the future.”

Grit beamed in response. “Absolutely, miss! If ya ever need someone to drop some bodies, you know where--”

“I wouldn't count on it.” Washe forwardly interrupted, barely taking care to honey his words. “If I think I can use one of y'all in one of our operations, then I'll utilize y'all. Otherwise, I prefer to do things quickly and quietly... assumin' we can keep this one's trap shut.”

Grit crossed his arms and shot Wasge a look of indignation. “That was uncalled for, Caesar.”

Washe, however, would have none of that. Looking out the corner of his eyes, he gently tipped up his sunglasses as his pupils bore into the young sniper's. A corner of his lip was raised, giving him the appearance of snarling bulldog. His face was already flushed red. He snapped at Grit, “are you gonna screw your head on right, or am I gonna have to do it for ya?”

There was something about the delivery of his words that seemed to inspire a sort of primal fear and the belief that he would, without hesitation, back up his words with every ounce of rage that was fueling him. Grit, in response, put up his hands between him and Washe, and began walking back further from him, daring not make eye contact.

Agent Vuhong offering the documents helped to soothe the tension in the room. A folder comprised of the undercover agents that NEST has employed was handed to him, and like Baron, Washe took them from her hand with care. However, unlike him, he opened it up to take a glimpse at the contents to confirm them, and then slapped it shut without a second look.

“Now, I have much work to do. If you need anything else, you know who to call.” Said the agent.

“Nope,” Washe said somewhat dismissively as he turned around and began marching down the lobby, “your role in this should be just about done. Grit. Grit! Get outside, we should have a ride waitin' for us. Go patch Maria in and everything should take care of itself from there.”

Grit fired off a casual salute in Lihua's direction before jogging up from behind and then past Washe, opening the glass doors. “Aye aye, sir!”

“Quit your fucking fooling, moron.”

With that, the Dreadnaughts had gone as quickly as they came, leave alone the agent in the lobby with the glass door closing behind them. Washe entered a black Sprinter on the driver's side door and Grit had climbed in through the back doors. With a rev of their engine, they pulled out of the driveway, finally out of the NEST agent's field of vision.

Washe drove south, and meanwhile, Grit was in the back punching in some buttons for a set of coordinates. The van itself was quite the piece of work – spacious and full of gadgets and monitors. Up by the dashboard, Washe had access to all sorts of toys that allowed him to connect to a multitude of radio channels and switches that controlled some of the mechanics of the vehicle. In the back, where Grit was, gun racks, trunks, monitors, headsets – this one van was practically all they needed for their entire stay in Verthaven, although it isn't recommended. All the while, the interior was lined with armored plates and maintained an inconspicuous exterior, making them look like little more than a civilian passenger vehicle. After enough of Grit's tampering, the noise of a woman's voice crackled into life over the radio. “Hello boys, good to hear from you.”

“Channel one is on! Nice ta' hear from you too, Mars.” Grit cooed. Among the Dreadnaughts, Grit and Washe were often the ones to talk with Maria the most. Grit, while he often had another person where they watched each other's backs, it made sense with him being a talkative bastard, but also Maria was their set of eagle eyes watching over the whole region. Washe was a given, requiring constant feedback should any unexpected problems come along that would comprise their strategy.

“Establishing a secured channel... and done. No one can hear us, now.” Maria confirmed. “I'm loading satellite imagery now, and I'll patch it in to you guys momentarily.”

A small screen by the dashboard flashed what appeared to be a GPS screen. The exception was that it showed a real time feed of their area, with a camera focused on their vehicle, which showed as bright green.

“Maria,” Washe barked, “highlight this city's Chinatown district for me.”

“I have you covered.” She replied. A low opacity yellow highlighted an area on the screen. Washe still had a couple miles ago and a bridge across before he got onto the next isle, much to his frustration. Damn Baron for volunteering them for whatever shenanigans NEST was up to! This Long Dragon person ought to be there, and not waste their time.

“Are there any active channels in that area?” Washe asked.

“As a matter of fact,” Maria began, “there are a couple. Though one stands out more than the others, and there are other connections to the channel stemming from the NEST headquarters.”

“That's the one then.” Washe grumbled. “Patch that in to the boat, link it with channel two.”

“Geez, these NEST guys sure make it easy for us, huh?” Grit bragged. “I expected them to be a little more... more.”

“Don't get so cocky!” Washe spat. “We don't even know what they're up to yet.”

“I can't believe I'm admitting this,” Maria interjected, “but I think I agree with Grit. It might just be that they're a government agency and aren't expecting anybody to eavesdrop, but it's also because they're a government agency that I'm curious why they aren't taking top measures to maintain security of their communication.”

“Maybe we're just too good.” Grit mused.

“Okay, okay, I had enough of this.” Washe sighed. He grabbed the hand-microphone for the vehicle's PA system and switched over to channel two, where presumably the KINGFISHER agents FALCON and NIGHTINGALE were on.

“Coming in; this is Caesar speaking, requesting confirmation on all channel participants. Again I say, this is Caesar speaking. Requesting confirmation on all channel participants – over!”