Voodoo - Charm City

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

It's a long bit of walking from Philadelphia to DC, but Voodoo and his people have a few advantages in that regard. One is that Ellen's provided them with a map of the route she took, including landmarks along the way. Another is that, while it's a good distance, it's nowhere near as long as the trip from Canada or New York to Philly. Perspective can be key.

The route on the map doesn't go anywhere near I-95 for most of its length, though. And there's a thickly drawn band around a not inconsiderable piece of territory- most of which is inside the curve of what used to be Interstate 695.

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Almost got it," Al reports. "Gimme a minute-"

There's a few sputtering, unhappy noises, and then the lights flicker on. They're not great, but they're enough to see and navigate by, and they're probably enough to keep things that live in small dark spaces from coming out to investigate newcomers.

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo appreciates this! The less radroaches he has to step on, the better.

He checks his watch, synched to this world's time with Ellen's help just before he left Philly. "Got two more hours of daylight left. Good time to clean your weapons, eat, sleep, whatever you want. Not planning on quittin' this place until first light tomorrow."

He looks around, nodding as he appraises the structure.

"Church's bulletproof. Only way for a noiseless entry is through the roof - the doors creak too damn much. All goes well, it'll be a quiet night."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"We can hope," says Kate. "How long of a watch are you taking?"

[boston_bruiser]

"Four hours. Figuring a 14-hour night, that leaves you guys with one three-hour shift apiece. Last one in the tower comes down and wakes us up at first light."

He looks at each of them in turn and nods, starting up the stairs to the belltower.

"Holler if you need anything."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

There's no hollering. And for a long time, there's no sign of trouble from outside, either. Sure, there's the occasional sound of something breaking in the distance, in this or that partially-lighted hulk of an ancient housing unit, but that's what you get with buildings as old and saggy and broken-down as this.

Up close, though, it's quiet. Mostly.

There may be a patch of darkness a little more mobile and a little more noisy than the rest.

[boston_bruiser]

Curious.

Voodoo flips his NVGs down over his eyes, looking in the direction of the sound. Two males, both armed, both armored - in heavy-duty leather, but armor's armor. The shorter of the two has a helmet that looks like it's rated against a straight razor at best, but the taller of the two is helmetless and has...glasses.

(Must still be some optometrists plying their trade in this world. That, or they're salvage. Largely irrelevant, either way.)

Shorty's got his gun out. It's a lever-action rifle, from what little detail the goggles offer at this distance - were it his world, he'd make it for a .30-30, but Ellen's world is wonky as all hell when it comes to calibers.

(Well. If recent events are anything to go by, Ellen's world is his world, now.

-best not to dwell on it too much. Focus on the mission. Moping and angst gets people killed.)

Conversely, the taller one's gun is still holstered, but he's got a hand on it, ready for a quick draw as the two of them approach the church. -if Voodoo had to guess, he'd peg it for a ten-mil, but the principle remains the same, regardless: don't take a bullet from it.

They're armed. They're unknown. They're coming under cover of night. All of it adds up to a sketchiness factor of about - seven out of ten. Their sole saving grace - the only reason Voodoo's not lighting them up right now - is that there's just the two of them. A raiding party - a decent raiding party - would be bigger, move faster.

But none of that means he's got to just let them waltz in here.

Silently, he crouches down, making his way back down the staircase and moving along the wall toward the main entrance, weapon up, careful to duck under any windows along the way.

He stops about 30 feet from the door - and waits.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

They've come closer. They're also making respectable use of cover. Glasses still hasn't drawn his weapon.

"Joe, man, I want you to listen to me and I want you to listen to me closely," says Glasses. "I want to know what's going on here, who these people are, what went down with Omar and them. You understand me?"

"I hear you, Russel, I hear you-"

"Do you understand me. Not hear. Understand. You say you hear me, but half the time the words go in one ear and out your damn trigger finger."

[boston_bruiser]

-well. Good initiative, bad judgement, as they say. Who does a meet-and-greet at-

(He checks his watch.)

-a quarter to 2200? They don't sound like they need killing, just a couple doses of common sense.

The closest usable firing port to him is a window. He doesn't like it - the frame will silhouette him too well, if their nightvision's up to par - but it's either that or the door, and the door ain't much better.

Slowly, he stands, lining his sights up on the chest of the taller one. Hopefully, the click of a fire selector going from semi to full-auto is part and parcel of a universal language here.

"That's close enough."

A beat.

"Turn towards the sound of my voice. Slowly."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Slow it is," says Russell, turning with his hand just a fraction away from his gun. "Joe, do it."

"But Russel-"

"Do not 'but Russel' me, Joe. Not now."

[boston_bruiser]

"Listen to your boss, Joe. You'll live longer."

His sights stay centered on Russell's chest.

"Here's the deal. You wanna talk, we can do that. We'll let you in, hash out whatever needs to be hashed out between your people and mine. We'll even let you keep your guns on you. But I'm tellin' you right now. If you want beef, you're about to make your last mistake."

There is a long beat. And then Voodoo lowers his weapon, nodding toward the front door.

"Meet me at the door. I'll open it."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Sounds like a start," says Russel. "We're coming."

He gives Joe a sidelong look; the shorter man reluctantly lowers his rifle.

"The smoother this goes, the happier we all are."

[boston_bruiser]

"My thoughts exactly."

Voodoo moves to the door and pulls it open, stepping back as Russell and Joe come in.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Joe gives Voodoo a flinty look as he steps across the threshold, eyeing the room in a quick, practiced sweep. Once he's satisfied he grunts and turns partway, enough to keep an eye on Voodoo as he calls, "We're good, boss."

"Thank you," says Russel, unperturbed, and steps up himself. "Let's see if we can't get this over with. The less fuss the better."

[boston_bruiser]

And Voodoo, in turn, lifts his NVGs off his face and rolls his eyes at Joe.

"We're just passing through on the way to D.C. Came down here from Niagara Falls. Rescued them-" he nods to Josepha, Kate, Al, and Hector "-from some slavers. Ain't never came through here before. Far's we know, Omar's just a guy with a shotgun who likes Sugar Bombs."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"From Niagara?" says Russel, dipping his head to eye Voodoo over the tops of his cracked glasses. "That's a long way for a man to travel who isn't on the trail of some kind of profit, or trying to shake someone off his trail."

"'Specially when he sounds like he comes from the Commonwealth," Joe mutters.

[boston_bruiser]

Okay, now they're starting to piss him off.

He crosses his arms, closing the distance until he's within an arm's length of the both of them.

"You got a problem with me? Then don't insinuate shit like a little bitch."

He looks to Joe, then Russell.

"Like I said - you want beef, I'll oblige you. But you two? Ain't gonna come outta it in one piece."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The two men look at each other.

Eventually Russel says, "The last time a man who sounded like you passed through these parts, he said he was from the Commonwealth Reclamation Bureau, hot on the trail of some kind of- android, or something. Man was pissed as hell when he found out he'd have to go around the EZ if he wanted to see the Institute alive again."

"Made some kind of a deal with Omar. Safe passage, in return for I don't know what," Joe adds. "But a whole lot of people who crossed Omar the past two, three years, man, after that Commonwealth SOB came through, they got real sick real bad, real fast."

"And the ones who didn't suddenly found themselves somewhere else to live," says Russel, sliding his glasses up his nose with one finger. "Their call, of course, but it leaves the rest of us wondering just who else he's got his eye on."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo shrugs. "Try asking him."

A beat, as he registers how they take the sarcasm.

"-okay, look: we didn't make a deal with Omar. He just pointed the church out as a good place to spend the night. So far I'm inclined to believe him. If you're lookin' for my help to take him down, you ain't gonna get it."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Joe's got a positively furious look on his face at that, but Russel merely looks thoughtfully from Voodoo to the people elsewhere in the room. When he looks back to Voodoo he says, "Sugar Bombs, huh? He looking for 'em, or he have them with him?"

[boston_bruiser]

"Had about four or five boxes, last I saw him. Figure he must really like the taste. Didn't ask for help lookin' for them, though."

To Joe:

"Your face'll stick like that, you keep doin' it."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Joe steps forward; Russel lays a hand on his shoulder. "Joe," he says firmly, "go shut that door."

"Russel-"

"Shut that door."

Joe spins on one heel and heads for the door. Russel shakes his head, then says to Voodoo, "Not surprised. He probably thought you'd've asked for a cut. He's got a ghoul from the Capital working for him, some kind of scientist. He's doing something with Sugar Bombs that doubles the strength of his Jet."

[boston_bruiser]

"So he's a dealer. This ain't my town; what makes you think it's my concern?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"The man's got ambitions. Most of them pointing him north from here," says Russel. "Strangers in town seem to end up getting roped into 'em. Long as all you're doing is passing through, we're good."

[boston_bruiser]

"Glad we could get that sorted out."

As Joe comes back, Voodoo looks to him, then back to Russell.

"Anything else? Or are you headin' on your merry way?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I believe we're good," says Russel. "Glad we had this talk. Joe, we're going."

"Fine by me," mutters Joe. "Place gives me the creeps anyway."

Russel briefly touches his brow in something not entirely unreminiscent of a salute, opens the door, and steps out into the night with Joe at his heels.