The Wolf Pack

Ravenloft

Sweet Rogue
Joined
Jan 29, 2000
Posts
18,844
OOC: Here is the link to the OOC thread.

http://www.literotica.com/forum/showthread.php?threadid=89090&perpage=20&pagenumber=1


Agent Tim:

Standing in the open field where the newest recruits were to come, Agent Tim took a long draw on his cigar. None of them, he thought, knew what this meeting was about, and he began to chuckle. He could smell them before he saw the first of them crest the roll of a hill some hundred feet away...
 
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Quinn

Quinn crested the hill and saw his intended target, and wondred waht the heck this metting was about. But Quinn felt confindent he whould find out soon enough.
 
Wesley Side

The cool crisp air of the evening whipped around Wesley as he followed the unique directions. Though he looked truly Anglo, he wore a strange mixture of cultural garments.

Through the tanned hide moccosins, he could every pebble on the ground. His once dark blue jeans were now faded to a lighter color and holes decorated his knees. His shirt probably once looked like that of Hawaiian beachgoers. Now, though, it is just spotches of red faded into no-longer-white, with pitstains to boot.

On his back and hips, he carried a large camping backpack with all of his possessions inside. Over that, a large black mexican poncho protected Wesley and his posessions. Finally, his Bushwhacker hat was that of the Australian outback.

As Wesley climbs another hill, he drinks some more water from his canteen. He sees another hiker some distance ahead of him and moves forward with more speed to catch up. All though not normally social, Wesley does want to know what he's getting into. Perhaps this other will know.
 
Quinn

Quinn took a small break for a moment, and noticed a man approching from behind him, Quinn stopped ans waited for the man to get closer "Hello there, waht brings you here" Quinn said, hoping to get a little bit more info, if the guy knew anything about it. Quinn noticed the starange man was dressed rathere strange, but Quinn quickley reagined his composer ans looked at the man, hopping he had some answers.
 
Wesley Side:

Catching up with the cheerful man, Wesley hails him back. "I'm Wesley and I'm following the instructions of a business card. I don't suppose you're in a similar circumstance?"
 
Quinn

Quinn looked at Wesely and said " As a matter of fact I am" obviously Wesely was here for the same reason Quinn was, to get some answers, " Do you by chance know why we are here, or are you as lost as I am." chuckling at the very end of his sentence.
 
Syife Marauder

Syife Marauder's long legs quickly carried him toward his destination, even as his mind pondered the circumstances that had led to this point. A late-night encounter in a bar, a cryptic business card, and a powerful promise. "All your transgressions will, of course, be forgiven. Be there."

So here he was. Alone, barely armed, out in the open, walking into an unpredictable situation for an unkown reason. And yet the promise remained... And so he walked on.
 
Ian Riley

Holding the much smudged business card in his hand, Ian looks at it one more time. It is too good to be believed that he may be able to find work again. Ever since that disastrous encounter with the Northern Army, his friends and comrades had treated him like he had the plague. Not suprising considering that his bomb was triggered too close to his own people and it kills his superiors daughter. How was he to know that Paddy O'Martins daughter Sarah was playing in that particular field. Of all the disasters to happen, this was a horror show. Their intelligence had told them that the Northern Army was going to try and flush them out by flanking them through this field. Not anymore, since that field no longer exists , except as a baren earthen crater with some dried blood in it.

Ian wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. He would never have thought that the IRA would turn its back on one of its own after only one mistake. But, it was one big cruel world that he lived in, better get used to it. Ian reached back and pulled his backpack forward. He mentally inventoried the supplies in it. His explosives, his fuses, his triggers, and of course his trusty 9 mm. He was never without a gun, better to go around without pants than without protection encased in a steel shell. At least he had been able to get to one of his stashes of supplies that he had secreted in many places in case he needed them. If they wanted a demonstration of his value, then boy would they get it.

When the cab stopped outside the small town, Ian looked quizically at the driver. "I am not allowed to go no further Sir, I have a family to think about." Puzzled by this response, Ian paid the man, giving him a good tip for his "family" and exited the cab. Looking at the map, hastily sketched on the back of a cocktail napkin, Ian realized that his destination was just a few miles away over these rolling hills. Ian made sure his backpack was secure and started the overland hike.
 
Agent Tim:

"Ello there, you three, come on now, we have one more to wait for then I'll get started explainin, what you're all doing here..." Said the tall, grey haired man who stood in the middle of the field. "While we wait though, show me your cards..."
 
Wesley Side:

As the two men talk, they walk down the slope and see a man in the distance. Several meters away, another man crests the hill farther down. Suddenly, the man in the distance calls out to all three of them.

Following his urgent announcement, Wesley pulls out the now creased and moist card. "Here's mine. People call me Wes. How many people are we waiting for?"

Keeping his guard up, Wesley continues to survey the open area. He wonders if this valley is a crater formed by a meteor years past. All that he does know is that something feels off. Not good. Not bad. Just off.
 
Ian

With a small feeling of uneasiness, Ian continues to walk to the rendezvous point. When he crests the last hill, he sees four men standing together. The tall grey haired man seemed to be in control. Ian comes up to the group and sees that they are all giving him the business cards. Ian pulls his out, looks at it one last time, and hands it over.
 
Syife Marauder

Well, so far so good, Syife thought to himself. Had this been an FBI or CIA set-up, he would have been rushed long by now. Had some other less well-known agency been involved, his situation would have been much less pleasant. Considering that he was still alive and well, he could only assume that this guy was not an enemy.
"Allright, here's the card. So, what the hell's all this about?" No turning back now...
 
Agent Tim:

"Ah, good, thank you, and you, and you..." He said as he took the cards from the men before him. "Gentlemen! You're here because you're the best of the best, where each of you are individually concerned, and my... Outfit wishes to extend to each of you, the offer to join its organization... But that is all I can tell you for the moment, we are still waiting for one more arival..." With a strange grin, the sort that sets the hairs off on the back of a souls neck, the agent finished off. "Suffice to say, what you chose today will change each of your lives forever..."
 
Ian

Best of the Best huh? Well, I know that I am, but as far as the rest of the yahoos, we shall see. Ian looks over the other man that are gathered, this group would look better on a pirate ship plundering merchant ships. He saw the typical hard looking men that he expected, but also a hint of roguishness. He looked forward to see where this was going to lead, since he had no where else to go.
 
Wesley Side:

Waiting is so boring. Wesley stares absently into the distance. His face still bears the absent puzzled expression though he stays on his guard.

One more, Wesley thinks, that's not too bad. The creepy thought that an "outfit" wants him is too confusing for Wesley and he thinks about more pleasant things, like the clouds in the sky.
 
Quinn gives the card to the man who summoned them over to the his location, he looks at every one present ans wonders waht the hell is going on, what ever it is Quinn is ready for it, he plans to go all the way with this thing... waht ever it may be a new challenge, I like new challenges thinks Quinn to himself.
 
Ian

Ian looks over at the other men gathered together. This "organization" may have them all working as a team for a while, so they may as well meet each other. He turns to the other members of the group. "My name is Ian. Last from Ireland, if you could not tell from the red hair and freckles. I am a demolition expert, what are you all in here for? " Ian waits to see if any of the others will introduce themselves.
 
Syife Marauder

"The name's Syife." That was, of course, only the most recent of his aliases. He didn't feel compelled to reveal his identity to these little pricks. Of course, these pricks might end up covering his ass one of these days... Might as well appear friendly and avoid confrontations. "Used to do a little work for Uncle Sam. Guess you can say I'm an expert in several fields - combat, code breaking, tracking, espionage. A little of everything. It's a real pleasure to meet you guys." Yeah, right.
 
Wesley Side:

Without truly looking at the other men, he talks gently into the air, "People call me Wes. I'm from everywhere." The simple man keeps looking to the wind for the answer to his eternal questions.
 
Quinn

"Names Quinn, Im a fighter," Quinn revels little about himself, it was one of the fist rules he learned in the Lions Den, never give someone information about your fighting history, unless they alreeady know from personal experince. Those where words to live by in his mind.
 
Ian

Ian was not suprised that they had given their names, since who knows if that is their real names. He was suprised by how quiet some of them were, in his experience , the closer to madness, the more talkative people were. And this group looked to be on the cusp of sheer madness. Ian looked over to the tall grey haired man to see if there were to be any more information given to them soon.
 
Agent Tim:

"Ah well, it seems our last isn't terribly punctual, well then, lets be going, Gentle men, I will see to coming back later..." With that, Tim turned to guide them to his encampment. In less than ten minutes, they were there. Tim pointed them to a slightly run down barracks. "You can unpack there, and I will see you on the training grounds in ten minutes..." With that, he turned and walked away, heading for his own room...
 
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Wesley Side:

Following the gentleman to the barracks, he removes his poncho and backpack. Wesley looks around blankly and comments to nobody in particular. "Funny man. I wonder if they're going to pay us for this."

As for unpacking, Wesley merely drops his backpack into the foot locker and pulls a combination lock from it. Placing the poncho over the backpack, Wesley closes the foot locker and secures his only possessions. Judy's measurements--an easy combination for him to remember. He sure does miss Judy. Damn the police, he hadn't seen Judy since he started running from them. Some day, Wesley would return to Judy. She would still take him in and marry him.
 
Syife Marauder

More waiting... Well, he didn't have anything more productive to do anyway. Unpack? Syife packed light - all he had on him was two guns, a utility knife, a couple stolen credit cards, and a half-eaten Power Bar. And he'd be damned before he parted with any of those items!

Sitting down on a slightly rickety chair, he procceeded to scan his surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary - just a small group of deadbeats in a run-down building in the middle of nowhere. Perfect. Picking at his fingernails with his knife, Syife spoke softly, "Hmmm, hope he gets down to business soon."
 
Ian

Ian places his backpack on his bunk, easing it off his tired shoulders. He had been on the run for so long, it felt good to be out in the ass end of nowhere. He opened up his back pack and took out a pack of cigarettes. As he lit one up, he put his backpack into the footlocker at the end of his bunk. Blowing smoke rings, Ian agrees with Syife "I too hope we get on with this. I am tired of playing a waiting game. " He offers a cigerette to his companions.
 
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