[FURY] Picking Clean (SeaTac 1.0)

Rich

One of the old lots outside the stadium

Seven bodies.

It took thirteen bullets.

Thirteen of your bullets.

Where do you get your ammo from?

You’re picking over the fat rotter, the one who was carrying some handmade bleeding axe made from what, like some old sign he beat into an edge? Not much of an edge, maybe he thought he was creative. Can of Spam, slightly dented. Half-full bottle of water, looks clear.

Next to him is the toothless girl, the one you got in the throat. She’s face down now, in a crimson puddle. Who knows what’s hers and what came down last night. lock blade with some bird on the handle. plastic baggie of eight chocolate-covered raisins. bag has a bullet-shaped hole in it, water leaked into it. Ruined.

You’ve already picked clean the one with the long hair, he took two bullets before he dropped his rusty knife. Got some good haul from him. Eight bullets for your Magnum. decent poncho, ring of keys to something, not vehicles, all matched with three numbers each on them, Altoids tin with three razor blades inside

One more to check after chubby - the guy with blue and green shoes. They look like they’re about your size.

Who started the fight, SeaTac?

As you’re pocketing the Spam, you hear a groan that cuts off like the guy shut his mouth to keep quiet. The sound of gravel dragging as a blue shoe moves slowly. Blue-and-green-shoes is crawling away. Rotter went down fast. Maybe he was playing possum?

What do you do?

WPTunes

Yeah, I take the blade, and the Spam and the bottle with clear water. Take the bullets, too, and all the rest of long-hair's drizzle. Shoe-guy trying to crawl away? Not happening. I step up and snap his neck. They tried to make the incursion, after all. No mercy for idiots. Don't they know I'm here?

As to ammo... yeah, I hoard the two cases I have for my long-gun, but the magnum and shotgun are kinda dime-a-dozen. Seems like every puddle-splasher's got ammo that I can trade for the right calibre, if I need to.

Those shoes DO look like they'll fit. I take 'em off and shove 'em into my bag. Wasn't trying to do Admiral no favors, but a man sees a threat, he takes care of it, yeah?

Rich

"No wait!" he says before you snap his neck. Whatever he was going to say to try and save his life was a waste, right? He made the incursion.

Back at Safeco, you hear the sounds of engines revving. The mechanics are working on the cars for the big show. Some folks are already making the long walk to the field to see it. What do you do on motor duel day?

And hey... do you even know why seven idiot rotters tried to jump you, SeaTac? Are you not known around here? Were you carrying anything they wanted? Or did you do something to them?

WPTunes

At the noise of the engines, I turn my head. I like to either be in my nest, watchin with one of the best views in the house and my sniper rifle close, or else away doin something else, before the crowd forms up. That many people just make me itch, and sometimes I hear Sarge's voice saying "Target rich environment, Pyle. Target rich environment."

For today, I was plannin on going walkabout until these splashers decided it was a good idea to take me on. They don't look like Millions' people, and we don't have any rain between us right now, so they must belong to Salmon. Idiot's been sending his unblooded gangers at me for a few months now, trying to "temper" them, whatever that's supposed to mean. What for sure "temper" means is "get 'em killed," 23 times out of 23, so far.

Mood for walkin's kinda spoiled, now, so I head back in to my deeluxe apartment in the sky (somethin' else Sarge used to say). Clean my magnum and machete, at least, an' watch the show. Maybe grab a bottle on the way up, since I'm stayin' in.

Rich

You trudge back across the skyway to Seatac, past the guards at the entrance who look you over, but let you pass through. What have you done for the hold that gives you free reign in and out like that?

Climbing the rainslick, ruddy concrete stairs to your flat starts off busy and loud, with engines revving, people milling about in preparation for a motor duel, calling numbers and bets, selling wares and food. But soon enough, it's a full echo up here.

What's your place like SeaTac? What's your favorite "amenity"?

WPTunes

I nod respectful to the guards. They know what I can do. Admiral and me, we have an understanding... I'm not so much security as I am what Sarge used to call the cavalry. One asshole causin trouble, not so much my problem, but whenever there's been an incursion in force, I've been there in the middle of it, pushin back whoever's tryin to come into my home without an invite.

When I get up to my digs, I look around to make sure everything's right. Clothes folded on a shelf. Rifle and ammo locked in the gun safe I cobbled together with help from some of the mechanics (cost me a bit, but worth it). I unsling my shottie from my shoulder, put it and the machete on my worktable next to the cleaning supplies, unholster the magnum and put it next to them. Shrug out of my armored coat and hang it on its hook. Work to do, cleanin and oilin the weapons, but before I sit down to do that, I walk up to my favorite thing about 'home,' the window. No glass, not anymore, but protected from rain by the overhang. I can see the whole arena, and over half the seats. Dial in the scope on my rifle, and I can hit just about any target in the whole splashing hold.

Right now, though, I ain't thinkin bout shootin. Just watchin all those people, lookin without bein looked at, like I'm God lookin down on all his children. that's good. Relaxin.

Rich

Down on the muddy track you see "Grimace" zipping around. She's the odds-on favorite, only lost one race so far.

This is Grimace, the car. Grimace the driver's inside, of course.


Who did Grimace lose to, SeaTac? How bad was it, and what did you lose because of it?"

There's a knock at the door, soft, hesitant.

What do you do?

WPTunes

Grimace lost to Harlequin, a gaudily-painted newcomer. I curse under my breath. Grimace's driver, Pine, owes me a couple bottles of hooch from her cousin's still. On account of I had a little "conversation" with a fella that was botherin her daughter. Looks like it's gonna be a while before Pine is able to pay up, if that wreck was as bad as it looks. And yeah, there weren't many words on my side of the "conversation" I had with the little rotter.

Quiet knock? I turn away from the window and grab the magnum as I move to the door, quiet myself. Look through the peephole. Not the one smack in the middle of the door that everyone sees, but the one drilled at an angle through the doorframe.

Rich

Standing a couple feet from the door is a small woman wearing a loose-fitting flannel shirt that's a couple sizes too big for her, a broomstick skirt, and bare feet. She's looking down, at the crack underneath your door, probably looking for shadows to know if you're there.

You know her from her freckles, she's called Kitsap. She's one of Admiral's girls. What was the last thing she said to you, SeaTac?

This is Kitsap:


What do you do?

WPTunes

Last thing Kitsap said to me? "Sorry." She bumped into me in the hall. She didn't mean it, by the way. Found a slip of paper in my pocket a minute later with a name, and three whatsit, dollar signs, like this: $$$ next to it. Shurgard.

So, I took care of it. A day later, four bottles of hooch (something clear with a bat on the label) from befortimes, a case of ammo for the shottie, and six sealed cans of WD-40 showed up outside my door, after a knock. Kitsap is Admiral's, and I don't see anyway she has the juice to pay that kind of fare for the ferryman, so I assume it was his job.

I stay to the side of the door, but unlock it and pull it open. Pistol's still in my hand, but down at my side.

Rich

Kitsap pads into your place, quietly, her narrow eyes darting about as she studies your place. "Hullo, SeaTac. Sorry to bother." She heads for the window, leaving the door open in her wake, looks down at Grimace.

WPTunes

I close the door (I always close the door), and follow Kitsap to the window. Look out at Grimace and my lost, or at least delayed, bottles of fresh hooch. I'll wait her out. Nothing needs responding to, yet.

Rich

She's in no hurry either, it seems. She smells like honeysuckle, freshly washed by clean water. She watches the purple car spit mus and gravel and it roars around the track. The cannon fires, the report unreal. She flinches, eyes blinking reflexively, her hand gripping the frame of your makeshift window.

"Big show today." She says quietly when Grimace zooms off to the far edge of the arena.

WPTunes

I nod. "Yup." Still looking out the window, watching the race. The artillery fire doesn't bother me much. Keeps me alert. "What's up, Kitsap?" It is a good view, but folks don't come visit for it, usually.

Rich

She relaxes when the fire subsides, still watching the spectacle, the growing crowd. Smells of cooking meat waft along on a stale breeze. "Harbormaster is coming. Out of his stinking pit, with his array of flesh." She glances over at you, "He wants you to set up for a killshot. You're the insurance policy." She tries to hold your gaze.

What do you do?

WPTunes

I meet her eyes. She breaks off or not, up to her. Between her scent and the cooking smells from outside, my nose is happy at least, and I don't mind lookin at those dark eyes. Bein a bullet doesn't mean a man can't appreciate good smells and pretty eyes, as long as they don't distract him from what's important.

"Lotta fallout, Harbormaster dies. What's Admiral offerin for this insurance policy?"

Rich

The corners of Kitsap's mouth curl up in an inviting grin, "You want... more than before?" There's a great deal of weight in how she says that.

What do you do?

WPTunes

I'm not real good at facial expressions and such, but I'm not stupid. I can work it out, what she's offerin. Takes me a minute, though, and her grin fades before I answer.

"That'll do. Last payday, and you, after. Tell Admiral to make sure Harbormaster's in the All-Star Club or somewhere else with line of sight from the light east of the Pen Gate. I'll get set up. What's the signal to take the shot?"

Rich

Her brows crease for a moment when you say "after", not disappointed, surprised. She turns, pads over to you, standing close. "I'll tell him. There will be too many eyes on Admiral. Speed will tug his right ear." She looks up at you, reaching her hand up, fingers touching your forearm. "Got it?"

WPTunes

I like the feel of her fingers there, on my skin. Enjoy it for a second before I respond. "Got it. Speed's kinda twitchy. Make sure he don't tug if he don't mean it." My hand moves by itself, brushes a lock of hair off her face. "Lookin forward to after."

Rich

She flashes some white teeth with a smile, her shoulders looser than before. A more familiar rhythm. "You should be." She draws her hand back, the ghost of her touch still tickling the hairs on your forearm. "Shoot straight, cowboy." She breaks her gaze and starts for the door.

What do you do?

WPTunes

I watch her leave, hearing the slap of her feet on the concrete and appreciating the rhythm. Then I go close the door behind her and go back to my routine. Clean and oil the machete, break down, clean and reassemble the magnum. Same with the shotgun, even though it ain't been shot since I left. Load up with ammo for both of my walkin around guns, then open up the safe and pull out the case with my M2010. Check it over, despite the fact that I did that six hours ago, before I left. Sight, shoulder rest, barrel (going to need to swap out for one of the three I have remainin soon). Load the chamber and the magazine.

Once I load up all the weapons (rifle case over my shoulder, not blockin access to the shotgun), I grab the mat and my stabilizer bean bags, toss em into a duffle, then head for the far side of Safeco to get set up.

Rich

After spending that time cleaning, then loading your gear, you exit your flat and walk through a few clusters of folks moving to their seats.

Crackling over the loudspeakers is
this noise. It's some old recording of a beforetimes song sung at Safeco. The words don't make much sense, but lots of folks sing along, bits and pieces.

This is a rather big crowd today, as if they already know Harbormaster's coming. Some of his people might be among the crowd, there are new faces, for sure.

What does "setting up" look like? Let me know where you are, please.

WPTunes

I'm all the way up in the lighting fixtures along what used to be the "Third Base Line." Climb up the service ladder onto the narrow maintenance platform. Lay out the mat and the stabilizers. Take the M2010 out of the case and assemble it. No tellin how long I'll wait, so I take a leak off the back before I lie down prone and sight in the All Star Club. Harbormaster around yet? Speed?

Rich

SeaTac,

It takes a while to trek out to your hidey hole, SeaTac. Picking your way through the tarp walls, and over mud-slick pools of broken glass, shimmy across a scaffolding. Nobody smart comes this way, and never on purpose.

Grimace is done spitting mud and wasting gas. Pine is drinking some swill on the side while her competition, a long-finned low-riding tank of a car called Algee, slips and slides over the muddy surface.

The smells here aren't as pleasant. Not putrid, mind you. The light coppery smell that pervades most of the world, hints of rust. This far from the crowd, you hear the sounds of the animals outside Safeco, roaming grounds looking for food. Their baby-cry growls slip through the air a couple times.

After you set up and wait, you spot him, in the All Star Club, surrounded by lovely boys and fair girls, all his property that one can "rent" for a time. Each of them carry the blood tear tattoo, forever marking them as part of the harbor, one of Harbormaster's. They won't live long enough to grow old, just long enough to regret.

Speed's there, as is Kitsap, both hovering near the edges of the exclusive crowd here. Admiral is hobnobbing, as is Valentine, a number of others. No signal. No ear tugging. Not yet.

On the crisp winds, you hear a voice, SeaTac. "Checked your windage, soldier?"

What do you do?

WPTunes

The thing about bein a sniper? Lots of wait-and-see, but you can't get bored. Can't stay on pins-and-needles focus, either, tire you out sure as runnin 10 klicks with a full pack. So there's somethin the old guys used to call "the zone" that you get into. Breathe slow, steady, muscles tensin and relaxin with every in and out. Eyes on watch for movement, patterns, but not watchin all the individual targets, quite.

Used to be, back with the Unit, the Zone was just the Zone. Now sometimes I get company. Sarge mostly, sometimes One-Eye or Red or sweet lil' Daze that made the bread from acorn flour and smelled like cookfire and promises when she came in the night.

"Doin' it now, Sarge." No one knows where them little strips of cloth, streamers like, scattered around SafeCo came from. Think they're decoration. Nope. Wind flags. I can judge from about any three of 'em what the wind in the hole is like, and I can see more'n a dozen from here. Almost see Sarge, too, if I let my eyes unfocus just a little bit.

Rich

SeaTac,
The scope is clear and you slowly bring Harbormaster, with that crazy-wide smile of his, into view, sitting and drinking tea with Admiral, all pleasant and nice. A scan of the scene shows Speed, Kitsap, even August there. Valentine as well (it is her place, after all).

What happened the last time the Unit went to the harbor, SeaTac? How would Harbormaster remember you?

"You need a spotter, Pyle." you hear One-Eye. "Damn fool snipin' by hisself."

WPTunes

Wind flags flutterin' One-Eye's voice in my ear like I was still raw. "You see anyone here to spot for me, old man? 'Sides, one target, known location, don't need no one to paint a bullseye for me."

Besides, it's not the first time I've had Harbormaster in my sights. Last time was maybe ten years ago. Rotter wouldn't recognize me, even if he had ever seen me. Didn't even have the mustache then. Yeah, I was young and pretty, once upon a time.

Anyway, Sarge brought up two squads, followin the raidin party that killed Humvee and laid Kev out for I forget how long, and took a bunch of folks that was workin the fields. Took em for sellin to Harbormaster, Red found out. Caught up just as the raiders and Harbormaster was talkin. Sarge sent me up to a roof, told me to wait for a signal, then took the others to 'Provide a third party to the negotiation.'

The one moment I saw that pus-filled rotter smile, I almost took him, signal or no. Woulda been easy. Too much discipline and trainin, though. Sarge let Harbormaster and his people back out. I wound up killin a few raiders that day, but not the bastard with that evil grin like a sudden squall comin out of a sunshine sky.

Rich

SeaTac,

Admiral is sitting with Harbormaster now. They're sipping some of Valentine's tea, the good stuff. August hovers near and Valentine comes by, but Harbormaster doesn't let her leave. He says something to her, ignoring Admiral. Admiral's face tightens with anger.

"It aint just to help you shoot straight, Pyle." One-Eye continues. "Ta watch yer six. Keep ya in the world. Aint got nobody. Why not?"

WPTunes

Typical One-Eye. All problems, no solutions. Sarge called him 'socratic' once, whatever that means. To me it means "Askin splashy questions no one can answer, at least without their brain hurtin." Still, it's One-Eye.

I keep dialed in on Speed, scannin around for Harbormaster every thirty seconds or so. Lookin for the signal mostly. Hungry for it. Hope the rotter's grinnin when I get the signal.

"Yeah, One-Eye. Should have somebody. Don't see no candidates. I'm no Sarge, to recruit and train."

Rich

>

SeaTac,

You check Speed for a signal, in case Admiral's too damn pissed about whatever's going on. As you do, a cool breeze across your neck . A sweet voice on the wind, "You don't see candidates because you aren't looking, Pyle. The boy you're leaving gifts for. His friend, the redhead. They're both old enough to learn. Same age you were when you started training to be Unit."

WPTunes

So now Daze is jumpin in? Push back the last image I have of her, bullet through the eye socket, smell bread and cook-fires and feel a cool hand on my neck. "Mox is made for better than goin soldier. You know that, Daze." I think about the redhead kid, though. Johnny? Joey? He's got some fire that might take to... never mind, that's not me. Okay, some fire that might could use some direction. Seems hard, even if it's late to make a... what did Sarge call it? A virtuoso.

Lookin in at Speed, no real trust there for the signal. Maybe I should just end Harbormaster now. Think about stroking the trigger with every exhale. God help me if I see that bloody grin. Thinkin about Kitsap and the fact that I don't get none of my pay if I don't hold my fire until instructed. At least, that seemed like the deal. Truth, I could take out all the deciders - Admiral, Harbormaster, Valentine - in about ten seconds, right now.

Rich

SeaTac,

”Take the shot if ya want, Pyle,” One Eye says, the tickle of Daze at your neck evaporating like drops on a tin roof at high sun. ”All they got on ya is jingle. What good are they? Just folks in yer crosshairs.”

”You’re a bullet. It is not yer choice to make.” Sarge’s strident voice rings clear in your ears.

The gentle breeze returns, ”Don’t listen to that bloodthirsty old fool, Pyle. You’re a soldier, not an assassin.” Daze’s voice trails off a moment, then she says, almost distractedly, ”Joey, that’s the one. Better’n Mox. He’s stuck, just a kid, a boy in a gaggle of girls. They don’t know what to do with him.”

Harbormaster pulls one of his girls close, lays one on her, then dismisses her. You catch the girl, a pretty young thing, wiping at the corner of her mouth. She didn’t want it. He made her do that, SeaTac.

Speed’s shaking his head no.

What do you do?

WPTunes

I pull away from the sight, close both my eyes. I've got a committee in my head right now, and a soldier knows that the only thing worse than a committee is two committees. I shake my head, take a few breaths, then put my eye back to check the situation.

"I was hired to do a thing. Guess I should do the thing I was hired for." Thinking of Kitsap. Hoping to see Speed tug his ear, soon. But mostly waiting.

Rich

SeaTac,

After a few minutes of tense negotiations, Admiral offers a hand to Harbormaster, and they shake on some agreement. Admiral nods to Kitsap, and she motions for Speed to leave. Looks like the hit's been called off. The voices are gone, too.

What do you do?

WPTunes

I pack up my gear and climb down. Think I'll head to the All Star Club, check in about my payment. And Kitsap too, of course. The breeze that was Daze's cool fingers on my neck is still ticklin, and I could do with a touch of company.

Rich

SeaTac,

While you're packing up, you see Grimace is winning over Algee. It will soon be over. Pine might be able to pay you back after all. Some of the out-of-holders are griping, you see a fist-fight break out near the commons.

Please head over here.