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Post by Toz76 on Aug 15, 2019 21:17:41 GMT -5
Prologue Marlena Gent parked the car at the front gate of Gadfrey Farms. She stepped out of the car and scanned the area. The summons of former officer Edward Kenneth had been unexpected, but she was curious about the identical twin of London's most diabolical criminal mastermind. Ever since her own personal run-in with Blade, Elvira wanted nothing more than to understand the man she had fought. Kenneth opened the door, and Gent was struck by the resemblence. Same face, same hair, and the same voice. Except this voice held no malice as it said "Ah, you must be Marlena. Come in, my butler has prepared some tea." Marlena followed Kenneth into a warm sitting room. Most of the knickknacks of the Gadfrey widow had been replaced after she moved out to the coast, and Kenneth was a more practical man, having several bookshelves but little else. It was so tidy it was hard to believe someone lived there. A mousy little man that looked oddly familiar to Gent entered and poured them both tea. "So, you met my brother, I understand?" Kenneth asked, adding a cube of sugar to his tea. "Indeed. I was lucky to escape." Gent replied, stirring her tea. "Quite an impressive start to your career, I must say." Kenneth laughed. "My career never really got off the ground. It's why I switched to farming. Much more rewarding, and less stressful." "If my brother tried to kill me, I'd avoid him too... if I had a brother, at least." "Oh, he's always been like that. Do you know, when we were seventeen, he robbed a store, and when Byrne came to our house from a tip, he accused me of the crime! Can you believe it! If they hadn't taken fingerprints, I would have spent life behind bars." "Jeez, that sounds- Byrne?" "I... think that was the officer's name at least." Kenneth replied, reaching to set his tea down. "It was a long time ago." "That's the name of the officer who betrayed us for Blade." Gent scowled. "An odd coincidence... unless they were the same person." Kenneth mused, picking up his tea again. "Wait a minute... you picked up your mug with your left hand." Gent said. "I- oh! Yes. I injured my arm recently hoeing." "I shot Blade in his right shoulder." Gent continued. "And I'll shoot you in your pretty little skull if you don't raise your arms and turn around slowly." Said a voice from the doorway. Gent stood and turned to see Byrne, holding a gun and regarding her evenly. He'd lost a lot of weight since she'd seen him last, and he looked much stronger than the slightly rotund detective she had known. Beside him stood the butler, now more obviously revealed as Müller. "How long have you been here? Is Kenneth still alive?" Gent asked, keeping her cool. "As a matter of fact, yes. He's in the truck. Of course, this farm is remote enough that there will be no witnesses." Blade stood and circled her. "In fact, when investigators do arrive, they will find only an abandoned farm. The workers are all on vacation, the table is set for tea, and the only clue I was ever here is this." Blade pulled a gold coin out of his pocket. Gent recalled that those coins had been his "calling card" during the syndicate's heydey. He dropped it into Marlena's unfinished tea with a smile. "By the time anyone finds that, we'll be days away." "But why kidnap me? There's nothing to gain from it if you don't demand a ransom." "All in good time." Blade replied. He ordered his men to carry her to the truck. It was a normal, soft-body lorry. Room for three in the front, and lots of goods in the back. But there also happened to be a compartment in the middle, dark and cold, and that was where they tied Marlena. From the darkness next to her echoed a voice. "I see you've met my twin..." LITERARY MOSAIC PRESENTS
MORIARTY RISING
The Thrilling Conclusion To Phase One Of The Literary Mosaic Saga
The same night that Marlena Gent was tied up in a soft-body lorry, her parents were having a delightful meal at one of London's most popular restuarants, Koket of Sweden. Gunnarson was given permission to go out and mingle with his old friend.
"Ah, Adolf! Welcome!"
"Arnold, actually. I'm thinking of getting it legally changed, I keep getting weird looks." Gunnarson chuckled. "Angela, how are you?"
Angela Gent raised her glass. "My compliments to the chefs! I always loved the meals you'd prepare when we visited, but this is something else!"
"I am truly blessed to have found this place." Gunnarson smiled. "It's fun, it pays better than my old consulting fees (no offense), and the other employees are like family to me."
Davis Gent chuckled. "You know, I was a bit worried when you hung up your hat as a PI, but a chef's hat suits you well. I don't think I've ever seen you this content."
"Well, I have Tarja to thank for that." Gunnarson replied.
"Tarja? That nice Swedish girl from the record's office?" Davis asked.
"Ja, well she's Finnish but yes." Gunnarson chuckled. "We met back when that whole Hartley fiasco was going down, and since then we've been spending quite a bit of time together. Her intellect rivals my own, dare I say."
"Gunnarson in love... never thought I'd see the day." Angela smirked.
"How is Hartley, anyway? Have you heard from him?" Davis asked, concerned.
"I haven't... I worry I overreacted, but in hindsight, him and I were never that close... there's so much about me he doesn't really seem to understand."
"To be fair, you are an inscrutable sort." Angela quipped.
"I think you'll find that I'm quite scrutable." Gunnarson joked. "Ah, the dessert course! You two will love this!"
---------
Gunnarson drove the couple home. He had finally bought a car, and was very much enjoying it.
"I can't believe you're retiring already, Davis!" Gunnarson commented.
"Well, I didn't have much choice, but yes, it is still staggering. I can scarcely believe that when I leave work on Wednesday, I won't be coming back Thursday."
"What will you do for yourself?" Gunnarson asked.
"Well, my wife and I have enough saved to live comfortably for some time, we were thinking of moving out to the coast and taking it easy. I'm also working on a book."
"Oh?" Gunnarson was intrigued.
"Don't get excited..." Angela chuckled. "This is his fifth attempt to write a book. He declares his autobiography will be a bestseller, spends a few weeks scribbling away, and then forgets it the next time a good talkie premieres."
"Now, that's a little unfair..." Davis chuckled. "This one actually shows promise. It's all about the wild year we had back in '49... Blade, the Irish Mob, and JJE, all in one year... they're all still out there, you know. The Irish Mob probably won't show their face on British soil again, and JJE seems to be in hiding, but we've lost track of Blade entirely."
"Oh, I'm not worried. He's been humiliated. He probably won't dare show his face again." Gunnarson said nonchalantly as he turned a corner.
"Don't be so sure... even if he's not out there, he's inspired a lot of copycats. Remember that Blaze woman I told you about?"
"Feh, it's one crazy." Angela scoffed. "I doubt Blade even knows she exists."
Just then, the car pulled up at the Gent residence.
"That's us! Thanks for the ride!" Davis said, smiling as he left the vehicle. Gunnarson smiled back. It was the last time the two men would share a smile for a long time.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Aug 15, 2019 21:57:04 GMT -5
Indeed, Gunnarson could still remember when Gent had told him the news. It was only a few weeks ago when it all started:
Adolf Gunnarson was resting at home on a day off from the restaurant; it was a quiet day and a much needed respite. Suddenly, he got a call on the phone.
"Hello? Oh, Gent, what's going on? Sure, i can come to your office, what do you need help with? A case?"
"No, something different. Please, come as soon as you can" Gent said on the other end.
"Ok" Gunnarson said. When he finally arrived at Scotland Yard, Gunnarson found Gent in his office; it had cardboard boxes and he was taking his things and putting them into said boxes.
"Oh, hello Gunnarson, glad to see you" Gent said as he kept taking things down and putting them in his boxes.
"Gent... what is happening?" Gunnarson asked, curious.
"Well Gunnarson... I am retiring" Gent explained.
"What? But the office work couldn't have gotten to you already" Gunnarson asked, shocked.
"It's not that; it's a... little different. Yes, my job has been easier since I stopped going into the field. Though to be honest... this wasn't really my decision" Gent explained.
"Huh?" A confused Gunnarson asked.
"Well, you see, a week ago I was called to a meeting..." Gent began explaining.
......
Gent entered the small conference someone was waiting for him.
"Ah, hello Gent, how nice it is to see you again" the he said.
"Secretary Ede" Gent acknowledged as he spoke to the Home Secretary; the office that appoints the Commissioner of the Police for of the Metropolis, or as Gent simply put it "Police Commissioner for London" in layman's terms.
"Well, I suppose you are wondering why I called you here" he asked.
"Yes; it's not every day I'm called to a meeting with you" Gent explained.
"I know you are a busy man Gent so I will cut to the point- the time has come for you to step down and retire Gent" Home Secretary Ede explained.
"What? But I've done nothing wrong" Gent said, concerned.
"Oh no, it's nothing bad. Your work has been phenomenal ever since we appointed you back in 1940. Why, the sheer speed at which you went up the ranks impresses even us high up in the government. That being said, 11 years is long enough Gent and the time has come to pass on the torch; most of your predecessors usually served 5-10 years anyway so it is not that you are being singled out or anything" Secretary Ede explained.
"But if I am doing a good job, why must I step down?" Gent asked.
"Look, you've been with the police since 1920; you know how things work and you've made quite a name for yourself. Thing is though, a new generation of crime is starting to emerge. The people you have been dealing with are either dead, jailed or no longer making moves. And it's not just burglaries and murders- we're starting to see new kinds of crime that not even you dealt with during your time on the force. So, the time has come to bring on someone new; a fresh face if you will. Someone the criminals don't know as well as you. Someone who can take the Metropolitan police in a new direction and take this new generation of crime by surprise." Secretary Ede explained.
"I... suppose that is fair" Gent conceded.
"Again, it is absolutely nothing personal... it's just with a new generation comes a change in leadership. That's all it is. Will 30 days be enough to get your affairs in order? Rest assured, your successor has already been selected, and he is a fine man, ready to lead the next phase of the fight against crime" Secretary Ede assured.
"Yes sir; I will have my affairs in order by then. Thank you for at least being straight with me and not beating around the bush" Gent said as he went to leave
"It's all right Gent; rest assured you will be remembered as one of the finest Commissioners this police force has ever had" the Home Secretary assured. But then his demeanor changed. "There is something else though. Remember Dr. Drugg?" Ede asked.
"Yes? What about it?" Gent asked.
"Well, ballistics were run and... we know you shot him Gent; it was your rifle, and a couple soldiers saw you shoot him almost as if you were executing him"
"Surely you are mistaken..." Gent began, nervously.
"I am not; the evidence is clear. While I do not deny Drugg deserved to die, that doesn't change the fact that what you did was legally questionable. If word gets out about this, it will destroy you. I want you to retire an admired man, not a reviled monster. For the sake of your legacy, it is for the best that you step down" Ede assured.
"You're... you're right sir. I will go and begin getting my affairs in order. Goodbye, Ede" Gent said as he went to leave
......
"And so the time has come for me to move on with my life. I was hoping you may be able to help me clean out my office" Gent asked.
"Ok old friend; it's the least I can do to help out" Gunnarson said, accepting that there was nothing he could do about this situation.
......
(PRESENT DAY)
There was now only one week until Commissioner Gent's retirement. The commissioner had summoned Detective Inspector Walton to his office; although things were a bit messy as he was clearing and packing his things, he knew that there was still unfinished business to attend to.
"As you know Walton, under my leadership many notorious criminals have been brought to justice or taken down. The Irish Mob and Black Scorpion; the assassins and Dr. Drugg. Heck, Elvira vanished off the face of the earth. And yet, there is one criminal left that still bothers me..." Gent explained..
"Lionel Kenneth, sir?" Walton asked.
"Yes; Blade is the last of a generation of criminals that have left a rather substantial mark on London during my time. The Blade Syndicate is effectively dismantled, but I fear what he may be up to" Gent explained.
"He's basically trapped in a corner sir; our best reports suggest it's just him and two associates: Muller and the traitorous Byrne. Between them they got a truck of supplies, but nothing like their operation we busted at the mine" Walton explained.
"Exactly. But Blade is crafty and intelligent; it's clear he cannot be stopped by normal means. Walton; I cannot in good conscience retire until Blade is taken down. But I am under a strict time frame to step down. So I have a special assignment for you" Gent explained.
"Do you want me to take down Blade?" Walton asked.
"Perceptive as ever; between your intelligence network and SAS training Blade faces an uphill struggle against you. He's outsmarted us too many times, but this time- I'm sending his worst nightmare after him" Gent stated.
"Worst nightmare?"
"You've got eyes and ears everywhere, SAS training and you lead the charge to take down his operation- even if he doesn't fear you, he knows what you're capable of" Gent explained.
"I understand sir; where shall I start?" Walton asked
"I trust your judgement; use the means you feel will lead you to Blade... with respect to the law, of course" Gent stated.
"Understood" And Walton left to start his mission
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Post by Toz76 on Aug 15, 2019 22:13:43 GMT -5
~1926~
Officer Byrne glared at the insolent young lad who sat across from him.
"Lionel Kenneth. You stole one thousand pounds worth of copper wiring from a hardware store and then tried to frame your own identical twin for the crime. What do you have to say for yourself?"
The lad scowled. "What do you care?"
Byrne chuckled. "I've always been fascinated by criminals. Why do people break the law? It's there for our protection, you know."
"Bullshit!" Lionel spat. "People like to say the law protects people, but it really holds them back. I stole that wire to sell the copper for scrap. I was going to give the money to my family so we can afford enough food to get through the winter. Laws exist so the rich can keep hoarding wealth they don't deserve."
"Nice try, Robin Hood, but society needs order to function. When people violate those laws, wealth and power suddenly end up in the hands of those who don't... deserve..."
Byrne paused. He stood still for a full minute, deep in contemplation. Lionel stared at him with concern.
"Uh... can I go?"
Byrne suddenly snapped out of his trance. He grabbed a pad of paper and wrote something down, before sliding the note to Lionel.
"I'll let you off the hook for now, but I expect you to stay on the straight and narrow from now on."
Lionel nodded and muttered something about "learning his lesson", but in his hands he stared at the note Byrne has slid him.
If you want more money than you've ever seen in your life, I can help you
1638 Windsor Place
Friday, 10:00
Come Alone
~Present Day~
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Aug 15, 2019 22:41:25 GMT -5
Walton returned to his desk and sat down. Before he could get to his files, he looked over at the photograph he recently added. The new photograph of him, Nora and the babies reminded him of what he had to look forward to when he went home. He didn't like talking about it, but truth be told... after what he had seen during the war, everything felt so... distant. To have witnessed the absolute worst of humanity, he had lost faith in the world. The world seemed to be a dark, terrible place to him now, with Nora his sole source of comfort. After the horrors he had witnessed, he vowed upon returning to Scotland Yard to protect the innocent from the worst of humanity... the very kind of people that had robbed him of his "innocence" to the world around him, and to ensure no one else would suffer the way he did.
And yet, Erik and Emma seemed to give him "something." He couldn't quite describe the feeling or put it into words, but after they were born he was able to feel that "something" again... like slowly, the world seemed to look just a little less dreary to him now.
His personal feelings aside, he knew that he needed to act, for the safety of London and its populace. Picking up his existing files on the Blade Syndicate, he pulled out specific papers on the three key players he needed to focus on.
"Lionel Kenneth, Ethan Muller, Mason Byrne... truly on your last leg, Blade" Walton noted before going over the information he did have on the parties.
......
Gunnarson had just arrived at Koket of Sweden to begin his shift.
"Good morning, Mr. Johansson" Gunnarson said as he hung up his hat.
"Ah, good morning, my friend" Johnansson said as he was walking towards the back of the restaurant.
"Any of the other chefs here, yet?" Gunnarson asked.
"Adam is off today; Lucas, Liam and Oscar are doing prepwork now and Hugo is running late I'm afraid" Johansson explained.
"Bother. Well, better join them" Gunnarson said as he changed into his chef attire and joined the others.
"Adolf, good morning!" Lucas and Liam beamed.
"Welcome back!" Oscar followed with.
"Good morning, everyone. Anyone need help?" Gunnarson asked.
"Yes; I could use a hand with the vegetables" Liam explained.
"On it" Gunnarson said as he joined him
(RECAP: Koket of Sweden staff:
Manager/Owner: William Johansson
Chefs: Lucas Andersson, Liam Nyman, Oscar Bergman, Hugo Wallin, Adam Lindberg, Adolf Gunnarson
Maitre'd: Oliver Jansson
Waiters: Arvid Holm, Victor Ek, Valter Eklund, Edvin Åström
Busboys: Theo and Emil Bergqvist
Dishwashers: Anton Lundin Erik Fransson )
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Post by Toz76 on Aug 17, 2019 22:39:52 GMT -5
Gent settled into his office. It was a lot emptier than usual, most of his personal belongings had already been packed away. A single framed photo of his daughter was the only personal item that remained.
"Ah, Secretary Clark! What have you got for me today?"
"Not much... we found the bodies of two known associates of the Ripper Underground, we believe they were murdered by Spider's Web operatives, but gang turf wars are not unexpected. And still no leads on Blade, but Byrne was spotted in a seaside town last night."
"Send that along to Walton, he'll need that info."
******
Gunnarson was chopping onions when Oscar Bergman approached him.
"A letter came for you, sir."
"Ja, thank you." Gunnarson opened the letter. He recognized the handwriting immediately as belonging to Marlena Gent. It was only four lines, but Gunnarson quickly noticed a secret message that made his blood run cold.
"Hello Mr Gunnarson.
Everything is wonderful here at Gadfrey Farms.
Lots to do, and the owner's is a real gentleman.
Please write back, Marlena."
"Who is this, Marlena?" Oscar asked.
"The first letter of each sentence spells out "Help", and the owner of Gadfrey Farms is the twin brother of... my god. Oscar, I have to go."
"But the lunch crowd!" Oscar called after him as Gunnarson ran to his car.
A couple hours of driving later, Gunnarson ran into the unlocked Gadfrey farmhouse. The table was set for tea, but the scones were clearly stale, and in one of the teacups, a gold coin. The calling card of Blade.
Far away from there, Blade smiled as he and Muller set up their camp. The trap was sprung.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Aug 17, 2019 23:55:11 GMT -5
Gunnarson looked about the house; it felt like only yesterday when the Home Guard and Irish Mob had their shootout here. Thinking things over, it wasn’t hard for Gunnarson to put two and two together
“No doubt this has something to do with Marlena’s role in bringing Blade’s Syndicate down a while back. Blade got away but Marlena did mention something about having shot him. Is this revenge for... no, that’s too petty even for Blade. If Blade has kidnapped Marlena, he’s trying to get someone’s attention. But who?” He thought to himself.
He looked over to the phone, and began wondering if he should let Gent know the news. “If Marlena is in trouble, I wonder if she sent a letter to him too?” He reasoned
......
Walton had come to the organized crime section of Scotland Yard; though a homicide detective in recent years he found that he had been collaborating with them quite a bit.
“Here’s this week’s tips” Walton said as he gave a file of tips; phone calls from his network of informants. Even with dozens of ears to the ground though, at best Walton only had 20-25 tips a day, and most of it was small scale stuff.
“Thanks; we’ve had some success with the tips so it’s bound to lead to something. But anyway, this is about Blade, right?”
“Yea; wanted to know if you fellas found anything when you went through the evidence at the mine” Walton asked
“Some notes and memos; but nothing in the way of a detailed plan of where he was going” Detective Yellin explained
“I see. Well, thanks anyway” Walton said before leaving. Next, he proceeded to his next idea, as he did...
“Detective Walton, sir- this is for you; pertains to your investigation”
“Ah, I see. Thank you, Clark” Walton said before heading to the office for Criminals for Good. He came over to the desk in question.
“Good morning, McLean” Walton began.
“Detective Inspector; what can I do for you?” McLean asked
“Blade; as you are a former close associate of his, i was hoping you may be able to shed some insight into him for me. Gent tasked me with tracking him down, so I need to know my enemy.”
“What kind of thing you mean?” McLean asked.
“Insight; what can you tell me about Blade, the man? Figure best way to get in his head is understand how he thinks” Walton explained.
“Oh; so you don’t want to know about his allies or something?”
“I’ll worry about Byrne and Muller later; though I should mention, it’s interesting to see him still having allies at this point. You’d think he wouldn’t even have an admirer, let alone allies” Walton noted
“Does ANYONE admire Blade these days?” McLean deadpanned
......
BROADMOOR HOSPITAL
A red haired woman in a wheelchair was being taken into her room; the bandages over her eyes were almost as visible as her hair color, or the yellowness of her skin.
“Her physical therapy went well today; she should have full strength in her legs any day now” the first doctor noted.
“The eye is healing slower than expected though; might not get proper vision restored” the second stated
“Hey... you’re not giving me that awful medicine again, are you?” The woman asked
“Now Ms. Pyros we’ve been over this; your cannibalism caused you to develop hepatitis, and you need this medicine to stay relatively healthy” the first doctor explained.
“Oh, how I miss the taste of men” she lamented. The doctors ignored her until she was sitting on her bed in her cell.
“She gonna start going on about Blade?” The first doctor asked
“Probably soon... though thanks to the 200% increase in the security budget her dream of rescue isn’t happening” the second doctor explained before the two went about their business
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Post by Toz76 on Aug 18, 2019 13:50:07 GMT -5
~1926~
Lionel made his way to the designated place. Byrne was there, along with two other boys about Lionel's age.
"Ah, you made it. Allow me to introduce Fowler and Wilcox, two of my associates." Byrne said.
Lionel nodded politely. "You said something about money?"
"Ah yes." Byrne pulled out an envelope. "Inside this envelope is a number of banknotes equal to twenty thousand pounds. Not a paltry sum, to be sure."
Lionel took the money in awe. "What's the catch?"
"None. None at all. Of course, I have ten times as much in a second envelope, which I could give you in exchange for a small favor."
Now Lionel was interested. Twenty thousand pounds would go a long way, but two hundred thousand?
"What's the favor?"
"There's a woman who lives at this address, the widow of a wealthy banker. She owns a very valuable silver ring set with sapphires, which is kept in a lockbox in her sitting room. The three of you are going to break in, steal the ring, and bring it to me without being spotted."
Lionel sized up Wilcox and Fowler. Fowler looked like a real country hick, but he had nimble fingers, perfect for picking locks. And Wilcox had a hunger in his eyes that Lionel recognized as his own.
"I'm in."
~Present Day~
Marlena and Edward were woken by daylight streaming into the back of the truck. Once again Blade had driven most of the night, and Marlena now had no idea where they were.
"Thank you for writing that note, by the way." Blade smirked. "By now Gunnarson should be at the farmhouse... and the chase is on."
"Why are you doing this? Where's Byrne?" Marlena asked. Muller was clearly visible, cleaning a revolver, but the crooked former cop was nowhere in sight."
"Byrne's in a very populated seaside town at the moment. If I'm not mistaken, your father will have sent Walton after him by now. And I cannot wait..."
Blade disappeared to the front of the truck, and Muller took his place, carrying some bread and water. Since the duo were tied up, he had to feed them by hand, a task Muller clearly did not relish. He had always been rather slight, but now he was clearly emaciated. Life on the run did not suit him.
"Muller, what is Blade planning?" Marlena asked.
"You think I know?" Muller sighed. "Blade doesn't tell me anything these days. I'm half convinced he doesn't know what he's doing either. Ever since you shot him, he's kind of... well, he's not the man I used to proudly follow."
"The man who chopped off the arms of hundreds of people and made them do hard labor?" Edward asked.
"Just shut up and eat your bread." Muller muttered.
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Post by Eyes on Aug 18, 2019 13:53:15 GMT -5
Blaze grunted as she watched the two officers walk away. Without the ability to get a hold of anything worth something to her sort of... identity — as in, matches, petrol, etc — in short, stuff that could set the world on fire — but she was stuck here in Broadmoor and there was nothing to do but sit around and think.
“Goddamn,” she was thinking right now, “if this is it for me then I swear to God I might as well have some fun with making an exit.”
But lord knows that there was nothing in the cell she could use to commit suicide with and she wasn’t strong enough to get creative. So it was just back to the usual day in day out rigmarole of sitting around wallowing in her insanity. Blaze had always had a good grip of keeping her brain in check, but that’s not to say that she wasn’t a madwoman. Because she was... right now, however, she just looked like a grumpy old wench with a wrecked eye. A far cry from the Blaze that went through London’s men with a Flammenwerfer of days prior.
If there was something to be glad about, it was that her third story room had a window in it. It was made out of extremely strong material and could not be counted upon as a possibility of escape, but it allowed her to look at the world outside, far from her grasp. And as day turned to dusk, and dusk turned to twilight, and twilight in turn to the depths of the dark, Blaze sat there by the window and passed the time by counting how many birds flew overhead. She kicked away a plate of beans and soup earlier and was starting to feel the effects of it right now, but so what? At least being hungry gave her something to do. Sleeping would be nice, but she’d developed some nasty insomnia and hadn’t been able to get some rest since three days ago. She was in the shit alright.
She decided to go to her cot and count ceiling tiles for the umpteenth time. As she turned around, she saw something next to the dinner she given little regard to earlier. She picked it up. It was a postcard.
And the contents of what it entailed would change her life of misery into one of action once again...
................
Gent was working on his book, but he was having a hard go at it. He was about to write in a story from his time in the war but stopped short because he suddenly remembered that it was one a friend of his had told, and not a personal experience. This was now eating away at his mind, and he put the pen down and started reading over everything else he’d jotted down to see if he was doing the same with something else.
This was interrupted by a ring of the doorbell.
Gent was rather angry to have been disturbed, but Angela was already sleeping so he bit the bullet and got up from his desk. Upon going downstairs and opening the door, he was surprised to see...
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Post by Toz76 on Aug 18, 2019 14:03:33 GMT -5
Gunnarson, out of breath and panting vigorously.
"It's Blade. He's kidnapped your daughter."
********
Gent and his wife listened closely to everything Gunnarson said. They examined the note and confirmed it was Marlena's handwriting.
"My god... what do we do?" Angela asked.
"Well, Walton is supposed to depart for Girvan in Scotland tomorrow. Byrne was seen there, and where Byrne is, Blade can't be far away. So hopefully he'll find her."
But of course, Byrne wasn't with Blade. But he wasn't alone either. In fact, as they spoke, a pair of Spider's Web operatives disguised as security guards were escorting a certain madwoman to the town of Girvan...
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Post by Eyes on Aug 18, 2019 14:23:01 GMT -5
“So how the hell did you break me out of that place?” asked Blaze to her two... captors? Who they were she didn’t yet know, because they’d injected something into her arm during the escape to knock her out. The postcard she’d received spoke of nothing more than a business opportunity, and she assumed that these were the businessmen.
“That isn’t important right now,” said one of the men. “What is important is getting you to our headquarters. How fit would you say you are currently?”
“Not very,” she replied. “I’m still learning to walk again and I feel like shit all over. Also, I need sleep. The ding-dong-drug you gave me was not enough.”
“Hmm, that’s not ideal, but we can work with it.” At this moment the car pulled up to an old looking hotel that didn’t seem like it was popular with the tourists. As they were leading her inside, the emptiness of her cell, meanwhile, was going unnoticed... until the next morning, that is.
A reporter had come to interview Jeremy Phyfe, the head doctor at Broadmoor. The new security system was all they were talking about. As he lead the reporter down one of the halls, he painted the most grandiose picture of it that you’d ever heard. “Truly magnificent work of art,” he exclaimed. “We’re now better off than ever before and—hey, you!” he called out as one of the other doctors ran past in a hurry. “What’s all this about?”
“Blaze has broken out!” he shouted. “You’d better come along too!”
Phyfe turned a beet red color. “‘Scuse me for a moment...”
Meanwhile...
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Post by Toz76 on Aug 18, 2019 14:31:29 GMT -5
Blaze was led into a hotel room. Byrne, who she recognized from news reports about Blade, was looking out the window.
"What's going on?" She asked, trying and failing to hide her excitement.
"Ah, miss... "Blaze", is it? I work for a man known as Blade, as I'm sure you're aware. He is currently undertaking a very dangerous mission and needs a diversion for it to be successful. That's where you and I come in."
"For Blade, I'll do anything. Where do we start?" Blaze grinned.
"Well, there's an old wooden church on the next road over. And I understand you are skilled with fire..."
*********
Walton was surprised to see Gent in his office that morning.
"Sir? What's going on? I'm supposed to be leaving for Girwan in an hour."
"There's been a couple... complications. Firstly, Blaze was broken out last night, and appears to be behind an arson in Girwan. Secondly... Blade kidnapped my daughter. Show them no mercy."
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Post by Eyes on Aug 18, 2019 14:41:26 GMT -5
Gent had asked Gunnarson to help him with his daughter’s case. Gunnarson tried to back out, “Gent, I’m not a really reliable detective or anything like that... I’m really just a chef these days.”
“Please Gunnarson, I’m not gonna sit around twiddling my thumbs while my daughter is locked away in a pack of wolves. I may not be much of a policeman right now, but a vigilante is another story. I want you by my side to look for her. You’re one of the few people I can trust.”
And so reluctantly, Gunnarson went back to the Koket to ask for leave of duty.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Aug 18, 2019 16:29:38 GMT -5
"A personal request from the retiring commissioner, eh? Well, we can handle things here for now. Just don't be gone too long, all right? There's a reason your desserts fly out of the kitchen after all" Johannson stated.
"Thank you; if all goes well this will be resolved within a week" Gunnarson assured before he left Koket of Sweden. With Hartley still in prison, Gunnarson realized he was going to have to go solo on this one.
"Wonder if Gent really meant he would go after his daughter himself?" Gunnarson thought to himself.
......
At home, Gent was trying to get some things together. Determined to get his daughter back, and to redeem himself for not looking for her when she went missing way back when, this was time for redemption.
He very nearly was ready to go on the hunt, when he saw something on his dresser. The letter... the letter Secretary Ede had given him. He stopped everything and reminded himself of the circumstances of his situation. How could he have forgotten something so... so critical. The very reason why he was stepping down as commissioner in the first place.
He had very nearly gotten in trouble for the way he took down Dr. Drugg. The way he subverted the law was most unbecoming for a man who was supposed to be the pinnacle of integrity in law enforcement. Realizing that if he went vigilante, he would be going down this road again, he would become the very thing Ede was trying to save him from.
"What am I doing? If I go down this road, I will surely become the reviled monster that everyone will see me as? Marlena is my daughter, but... but no, I will not allow Blade to destroy me any more than I have already destroyed myself" he finished.
Indeed, when Gunnarson stopped by later, Gent explained why he couldn't join him; after all, there were affairs and matters he had to wrap up with the time he had left.
"I'm sorry Gunnarson, but I cannot let my emotions get the better of me. I have a responsibility to this city and... and if I could justify coming with you, I would" Gent finished.
"I understand, sir. Best of luck, and I promise I will do my best" Gunnarson said as he left to begin his investigation into the matter.
"Knowing Blade... I think I have a pretty good idea of where to start" Gunnarson thought to himself as he left for the destination he had in mind.
......
The arson was a success, but it had become pretty obvious to Byrne that Blaze was going to be of limited help.
"So it's pretty obvious that you don't have any depth perception; so guns are useless to you. But how far along did your eye heal by now?" he asked.
"Well... I can see you ok if you stand about there" Blaze said, while only a few feet away. "But once I get past you everything just gets all blurry the further it gets" she finished
"Ugh, so you're near-sighed, just great" Byrne muttered. "By the way, strict orders from Blade himself: NO cannibalism while you run with us" Byrne said sternly.
"And why?" Blaze asked indignantly, only to sneeze out blood, some of which landed on her yellowing skin.
"... do I REALLY need to answer that? Oh, and this is my rule, but no alcohol for you either" Byrne added.
"Oh come on! What's wrong with booze?" She asked.
Byrne nearly groaned before wondering if he should let Blade know that Blaze "may be a problem down the line"
......
Walton had gone home to say goodbye to his wife and babies before heading out.
"Strict orders from Commissioner Gent himself; Blade needs to be taken down and apparently he needs me to do it; seems the only way to get through to Blade is to send someone after him where Blade knows what his pursuer is capable of" Walton explained.
"I understand. Be safe, ok? For your children's sake" Nora replied. Walton smiled before going over to the cribs and kissing the babies on the foreheads. "Erik and Emma, be good for your mother" he said before heading out to his car.
As he sat down, he wondered if he really needed the equipment, "I don't suspect the danger to be any greater than normal; then again, Blade has made some pretty powerful enemies, so I wouldn't be surprised if I have some competition here. Better safe than sorry" he reasoned before taking off.
Even with a plan in place, Blade, Byrne and Muller did have at least some reason to be nervous with Walton coming after him; Blade and Muller were not typical street thugs by any means, but they also weren't as skilled as the assassins either. Byrne did have police training, as did Walton... but in terms of skill, none of them came close to Walton's SAS training. A well thought out plan was the only way they would have a chance against him, and if there was even any deviation, they knew there would be trouble.
But as Blade reminded them, Walton was secondary anyway... the real target, of course, was The Swede
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Post by Tug on Aug 18, 2019 18:09:30 GMT -5
.....
Across the street from the Hotel was a rundown apartment building, and in one of the abandoned rooms on the third floor, a man sat in a chair near a mostly covered window, watching everyone enter and exit. To the side of the window, was a sniper rifle leaning against the wall, waiting to be used. On a small table next to him sat a radio with the receiver plugged in. He was using a pair of binoculars watching everyone who came in and out of hotel. He had just seen Blaze come back into the hotel and Byrne a few hours earlier...
"Bene" the man said to himself as he picked up the radio receiver
"This is Brute, come in Dullahan, over"
"This is Dullahan, over"
"I've been watching the palace for the last few days and Caesar isn't here, but Augustus and Nike are, seems it's a diversion, over"
"Alright, keep watching for and drastic changes, Baskerville and I will go to Plan B then, over"
"Lo farà, over and out"
"Alright, over and out"
.....
In a van in the English countryside, two men were sitting in the back. One was sitting next to a dog cage, with a massive black hound menacingly sitting inside, and the other sat in front of a stack of three radios, one was playing on the police frequency, one was silent though marked with a "W", and the other was being hung up after speaking with his associate on the other end...
"So, what did Sicario have to report?" asked 'Baskerville'
"Well Wolff, good thing I sent him to scout the town ahead of us when we first got wind of those rumors, since it seems it's a distraction Blade set up, especially after hearing all that chatter about an escaped madwoman who I can only assume is 'Nike'..." replied 'Dullahan'
"So what do we do now then Finn?" questioned Wolff
"As I told him, we go to Plan B..." answered Finn as he got up and opened a bag revealing clothes that only Finn would recognize, clothes from when the Irish Mob and Blade Syndicate first raided the Ripper Underground together, "Lord Bury had Hawthorne go search the mines for something we could use to track him, and it must be fate he found these. Now you get that monster of a mutt familiar with his stench, and we'll be back in business..."
Wolff caught the thrown clothes as he hung them over the canine, who ferociously began sniffing the articles, and asked, "He should be ready shortly, but where will we begin our hunt for him then?"
"Oh I know a certain farm where he most likely left a traceable trail..." responded Finn as he hopped into the driver's seat and began starting up the van, "And don't worry Blade, I haven't forgotten your double cross, and it would be a waste to collect your due when I've been given this golden opportunity..."
.....
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Aug 18, 2019 18:53:51 GMT -5
Walton had finally arrived in the town of Girvan; from a map he obtained of the area, he had deduced a rather ideal place to lie low and act as HQ; a small Bed and Breakfast that received minimal foot traffic. Pulling into the parking nearby, he proceeded to set up his communication array. His military contacts helped get into possession of a good amount of surplus "merchandise" that was within reason, of course. In particular, the radio set up for his car allowed him communication with assorted contacts as long as they were in range.
Among his network of informants, there was a select group called "the 12 apostles" that Walton had particular value for. These informants either had it in with high value targets, or were in very active areas. These informants he entrusted with hand-held radios for communication; his American contact even set him up with a few geniuses that were able to modify them to increase range; alas, they couldn't talk any time, any where, but as long as they were within the same city, communication was possible.
Walton had reached out to one of his apostles, and told him to move to this town for the time being.
"All right, this here is Engel, calling Bravo. Bravo there?"
"Yea Engel, this is Bravo. I moved over to Girvan just like you said. What do you want me to do?" He asked.
"Keep your eyes open and ears to the ground; if the rumors are to be believed Target Beta is here; and if Target Beta is here, Target Alpha may not be too far behind" Walton directed.
"All right; keeping my eyes open. Bravo out" the voice on the other end said.
Walton subsequently got out of the car and headed into the Bed and Breakfast. It was quiet and no one was really around.
"Feels awfully quiet here; any other guests here today?" Walton asked.
"Just you for now" the owner informed, escorting Walton to his room. Walton took out his suitcase, and after moving his clothes aside, pulled out some files and sat in the desk in the room. He began piecing together the information
"No doubt Pyros' break out was facilitated by Blade and company; literally no one else in their right mind would want to work with that cannibalistic loony" Walton noted. No doubt the pair would try to lay low, but Walton knew there was one thing in his favor... "Pyros is literally the only red-haired, one-eyed, and apparently yellow-skinned, young woman in all of Great Britain; if she tries to lay low, she won't do a good job of it, especially with her face in the papers" he rationalized.
Indeed, Byrne had given her a strict command, "Don't you dare leave this house while there's daylight out" he said.
"What am I, a dog?" She asked, offended.
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Post by Toz76 on Aug 18, 2019 19:13:09 GMT -5
~1928~
"Leo!"
Lionel Kenneth turned to his twin brother, the gold lockets still in his hands.
"So you've turned to crime, then?" Edward Kenneth asked. "A job on the railway my foot. You're just a petty thief!"
"How dare you! I've been keeping mother fed and paying for the house with this money, not to mention paying for your police academy applications." Lionel snapped.
"Get out of my house." Edward ordered. "I never want to see you again."
***************
~Present Day~
On the drive, Gunnarson thought to himself.
"The note I was given had four lines. I've had four encounters with Blade over the years. The first was at the farm, but the second... hmm..."
Gunnarson soon reached the compound where Dr Drugg's boat had been taken after his capture. As he exited the car, a man approached.
"Hey, are you mister Gunnarson?" The man said.
"Yes, who is this?"
"I have a package from you from a mister Byrne?"
Gunnarson took the envelope eagerly and opened it. Inside was another one of Blade's coins.
"Another coin? But why?"
A closer look revealed the answer. Engraved in the coin was a small set of numbers: "2-2"
"That's unusual..." On a hunch, Gunnarson pulled the coin from the farmhouse out of his pocket. Upon closer inspection, it looked like it, too, had been engraved- the number 14 was carved into one side of it.
"I suspect these are parts of a telephone number... there must be more coins at the other two places our paths crossed."
***********
Walton quickly ascertained that Byrne was in room 306 at the Mermaid Inn, and he quickly assembled his weapons and prepared to strike. Byrne and Blade would be very prepared, and he needed heavy armaments for this. Walton armed himself with an M7 grenade launcher, a weapon that would be more than enough to overpower Blade. It might cause some property damage, but it was a risk they'd have to take.
Walton approached the door at 3:07. Two of his men had sniper rifles trained on the window at the far end of the building.
"This is the police! Open up!"
There was no response, so Walton decided desperate measures were needed. He kicked down the door and launched a grenade at the far wall. But as soon as he did, he realized something had gone horribly wrong. The room was empty save for a fine layer of gunpowder sprinkled over the carpet. Walton dived out of the way of the resulting explosion just in time. The walls of the hotel room weren't so lucky.
*********
In a soft-body lorry about an hour away from the town, Byrne and Blaze discussed their plans.
"We need to keep drawing Walton away from Blade's location for as long as possible. I don't suppose you could start another fire for us, my dear?"
Pyros smiled. "With pleasure."
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Post by Eyes on Aug 18, 2019 19:29:23 GMT -5
PYROMANIAC AND MENTALLY UNSTABLE ARSONIST ‘BLAZE’ ESCAPES FROM BROADMOOR! read the headline of the newspaper The Man had just picked up. He glanced through the text, inhaling nicotine and smoke into his lungs at the same time from his little stick of fire held between his fingers. Ever since his showdown with Walton he’d taken up smoking again, and was much more nervous than he wished he could be. His business was on the down side, but this paper may have just afforded him an opportunity.
“Blaze and Blade... he’s the only one in this whole damn country who could’ve done it. I wonder...”
He threw down his cigarette, trod upon it, and walked over to a phone booth where he dialed a certain number.
“Hello? Filly? It’s me. Listen, could you ask your man for a favor from me? No, not about money. I just want to know a little bit more about that Blade fellow...”
Meanwhile...
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Aug 18, 2019 20:11:05 GMT -5
Walton regrouped with the other officers and assessed the situation.
"This only means one thing... they know I'm after them, and they're going to put everything they can between me and their capture" he concluded.
"Sir... was the grenade launcher overkill?" One of the officers asked.
"In hindsight I should've realized that in an area that small I was putting myself in danger too; probably shouldn't use it again" Walton agreed as they all headed over to his car and he put it back with the rest of the equipment.
"So how to approach it now, then?" the same officer asked.
"Finley, let me explain how I approach a situation" Walton explained. "As a detective, it is important for me to follow the evidence and see where it leads; unlike Gunnarson I try not to get caught up on hunches. You must look at the situation pragmatically, not idealistically" Walton finished.
"So, then the whole thing with calling detectives "a Gunnarson," is that why..." Finley began.
"Don't use that term around me!" Walton snapped. "I'll be the first to admit Gunnarson and I don't see eye to eye. I told everyone about him not because I hated him, but because people needed to know that he wasn't as good as the papers made him out to be. I didn't do it out of spite, I did it to save him, and others, from getting hurt in the long run" he explained.
"That still doesn't explain..."
"Gunnarson may not have been the best detective... but there was no reason to make his name a slang word; that goes too far" Walton admitted.
"So what now?" Finley asked.
"I do the only thing I can do... regroup and wait for the next lead. And I know exactly how its going to come in" Walton said.
.....
Byrne and Blaze did their best to remain low profile, but it was tough; both had been in the papers in the past, and they were being published again following the breakout.
They tried to not draw attention to themselves... but inevitably they had to stop for gas. So when Walton had gotten word of the "one-eyed red haired woman" being spotted, he knew what he had to do.
"This time, I lay low and scout ahead... can‘t risk endangering innocents" he reasoned.
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Post by Eyes on Aug 18, 2019 21:36:48 GMT -5
Jeremy Phyfe was livid. The Broadmoor Breakout, as the papers were calling it, was the talk of the country, and the hospital and its security system had now become England’s greatest joke. He called together a team of subordinates and tried to give them orders about finding criminals, but there was no luck on that end.
“Sir, we’re medical staff, not bounty hunters.”
“For fuck’s sake,” said Phyfe to himself. “If you wanna get something done...”
That evening he met with a sleazy sort of person, a firearms specialist with a reputation of aiding and abetting criminals. Forget that, Phyfe just wanted some weapons, and cheap, and this guy was giving them to him. With a new stock of boom sticks in his possession, he was gonna find that Blaze and kill her with his own hands. That was what she deserved for all of this shit.
With four people now all setting their sights on Byrne and Blaze, things weren’t looking so good for them. But unbeknownst to our heroes and antiheroes, this was exactly what Blade wanted.
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Post by Toz76 on Aug 18, 2019 22:35:11 GMT -5
~1928~
Lionel slammed down a glass of beer. "Damn my worthless twin! I ought to wring his neck!"
"Now, Lionel, you're letting your personal vendetta cloud your judgement. I see this as an opportunity." Byrne said.
"How the hell is this an opportunity?" Lionel asked. "I only got into crime to support my family, and now my family has disowned me because of it."
"Exactly. You're free to start doing what you want to do. You're no longer obligated to anyone but yourself. In fact, I think it's time to welcome you to the big leagues."
"The big leagues?"
Byrne nodded. "You see, I haven't been entirely forthcoming with you. I represent a growing, loosely connected network of criminals known as the Spider's Web. My job is to scout out new members to act as operatives. You might have heard of the Black Scorpion? Established by the Spider's Web. You organize a group of your own, give me a small cut of all your profits- say, five percent- and in exchange, I make sure all your material needs are met. You need guns, I can get you guns. You need a place to lay low- we own quite a lot of property."
Lionel nodded.
"But if I am to give you this job opportunity, I need you to let go. You tend to get far too attached and you definitely have a vengeful streak. I need you to turn your back on your brother, your mother, even your name. Just let them go."
"Very well then." Lionel stood. "From this moment on, I will be known as... Blade."
"Oh jeez... hopefully you come up with a better alias when you sober up." Byrne grumbled.
~Present Day~
The compound where Drugg had died. Now an empty building. No one had even been there in months... except Blade, and now Gunnarson. Gunnarson walked into the building and immediately spotted a set of footprints in the dust, leading to another coin.
"It says "01"... just one more place to visit..."
**********
Blaze smiled as the farmhouse burned itself out. Behind her, Byrne cleared his throat.
"I'd like you to meet Cassie Arco and Brian Guliman." Byrne said. "They'll be taking over as our body doubles for the duration. Well, one of them, anyway."
"Wait... what's going on?" Blaze asked.
"Simple. I happen to have a contact who is an expert in facial prosthetics. It's elementary to place doubles of the two of us, Blade, and Muller, in every major city in England, and a few in France and Ireland for good measure. Walton won't know where to turn."
"Ah, a shell game." Blaze smiled. "But where will we be?"
"The first rule of a shell game, my dear... make sure the perp can't actually find the shell. Get in the truck. I'll explain when we reach our destination in a couple days."
*********
Walton was woken by another officer shaking him.
"Sir! Byrne has been sighted in Paris! Blaze burned down a farm in southern Scotland! Blade was sighted in Liverpool! And Muller reportedly assaulted a man in London!"
"Goddamn it! They've split up to confound us. We need to formulate a plan..."
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