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Where did it all start? (story of Drasis)
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Jacked Out

Joined: Aug 15, 2005
Messages: 78
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((Please forgive any mispellings))

 


Where did it all start?


           I’d have to go back a few years to a rainy night in New York.  But first I should describe myself as I was when I was still a bluepill.  I worked for the CIA, the infamous U.S. Central Intelligence Agency.  I was part of their counter-terrorism unit.  I was rather good at finding people and, frankly, killing them.  I wasn’t a spy or even a “case officer” like most in the CIA; I was what they called an “operative.”  That’s a nice word for a killer.  Because I was so good I was assigned to hunt the most notorious terrorist there was, a man known as Morpheus.


           Despite my skill however, Morpheus was always a step ahead of me, hell, most of the time it felt like he was four or five steps ahead.  Going back to that rainy night, my team and I were after someone associated with him, an “Apoc.”  For a change we had reliable information, we knew where he was and the information was fresh.


           


           It was a rainy night, perfect for film noirs, detective and gangster stories.  The squeaking of the windshield wipers was constant.  Drew looked around the car at his team as they continued on to 29 Charles Place.  There was Ray, the driver, an ex-SWAT guy.  In the back were Brian, John and ‘Jack.’  Brian and John were ex-Delta Force, Jack was the product of the blackest operations undertaken, one of the best killers there was.  Each nodded to Drew as glanced at them, all except Jack who never seemed to take notice of anyone.


           “We’re here,” Ray announced as they pulled up to a small apartment building.  Four doors opened and were closed quietly.  Each team member had their weapons of choice; Ray, an automatic pistol; Brian and John, cut-down assault rifles; Jack, a combat shotgun and Drew had one of his trademark machine pistols. “Jack, Brian, take the back.  Ray, John, with me.”


           Jack and Brian took off to go cover the back while Ray and John followed Drew to the front door.  Drew gave the door a swift, hard kick, smashing it in.  Ray and John moved in, guns covering the hall, Drew only a second or two behind them.  They made their way to the stairwell and moved cautiously to the third floor.  Drew once more considered their intelligence, somehow they new not just the building but the floor to hit.  He pushed it from his mind; he had to concentrate on the task at hand. They proceeded to kick each door down, searching each room in sequence.  At room 31 John kicked the door in and was greeted by automatic weapons fire.  The first burst was stopped by his Kevlar body armor but the second burst hit him in the head and his corpse was thrown against the opposite wall.  Drew and Ray jumped to either side of the doorway.


           “**bleep** it,” Drew cursed.  Suddenly heavy rounds started smashing through the wall.  Drew threw himself back down the hall while out of the corner of his eye he saw Ray’s head turn to red mist.  “Brian, Jack, get up here now,” Drew yelled into his radio. He ducked through an open doorway as several people came out of room 31.  “So much for it just being Apoc, **bleep** intelligence always has to get something wrong,” Drew muttered quietly.  He heard footsteps run past the room he was in and called quietly into his radio, “Brian, John, where the hell are you?”  Drew stuck his head out and saw two men in black suits and sunglasses, the stereotypical ‘FBI look.’ He stepped out and followed them after the shooters up the stairwell. “Who the hell are you?”


           “I’m agent Johnson, this is agent Clark,” one of the men replied.


           “That’s nice,” Drew said sarcastically, “but this is a special operation.”


           “I know,” agent Johnson replied, “We’re here to make sure the job gets done, especially since it looks like you can’t do it.”  By then they had reached the roof and Drew saw the group of shooters run to the edge and then jump all the way to the building across the street.


           Drew skidded to a halt.  “What the….” was all he got out before the two agents jumped across to the other building. “That’s….that’s not….possible.”


 


           Drasis leaned back in his seat on the hovercraft Neo’s Avenger as he remembered that night.  He remembered calling in additional CIA personnel to search the area.  Apoc and his group hadn’t been found, the agents hadn’t been found, and Brian and Jack hadn’t been found though their two guns had been found by the back door of the building.


           That was where it started Drasis thought.  It was that night when he first really noticed that there was something wrong with the world.





Joined: Aug 16, 2005
Messages: 260
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Very cool...story into your character Drasis. SMILEY



Jacked Out

Joined: Aug 15, 2005
Messages: 78
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((well, here's pt. 2, I think I'll put more shooting in pt. 3 :smileywink: Once again, please forgive any spelling mistakes))


 


That rainy night in New York was where it started.  But if that was all there was to it I wouldn’t be here on my hovercraft writing this.  There was also that time I met more agents….


 


           Let’s see, I was sitting at my desk, still filling out paperwork about that incident in New York a few months ago; I swear, the CIA runs on paperwork; two of those agents came in.  “Mr. Lewis, we need to talk with you.”


           “What about,” Drew responded sarcastically.


           “About the incident in New York a few months ago,” one of the agents replied completely emotionlessly.


           “**bleep** it, I’ve already filed reports, I’m just finishing up the millionth copy that’s required.”


           “Yes, we’ll take those too.”


           “What the hell…”


           “Mr. Lewis, lets be frank shall we?  You are not to talk about that incident ever again to anyone, not even the director of the CIA.”


           “Nobody has that much power a**hole.”


           “That is where you are wrong Mr. Lewis.  Now, if you could control your outbursts and allow us to get down to business.  You are very good at tracking people down Mr. Lewis.  Normally you are also very good at killing them when needed but these….terrorists aren’t like the ones you’ve hunted before.  As such, when you track them down, we would like you to give us a call,” the agent said as he handed over a slip of paper.  “We will take it from there.”


           Drew just stared at the agent.  “Are you telling me that I’m supposed to do all the work of tracking them down then you’ll come in and do the takedown?”


           “Yes Mr. Lewis, that is exactly what I am saying.  As shown by that shoot-out in New York, not even your best team could deal with these terrorists, we are…..better.”


           “I don’t know who you are but I’m not gonna sit here while…”


           “Mr. Lewis, shut up.  We are better, there’s nothing more to it.  As for who I am, I don’t think you really want to know.  Thank you for your time Mr. Lewis.”  The agents turned and left, Drew watching them coldly.


           “Maybe I should find out where they are, call you guys in and let you get killed,” he muttered to himself.


 


Drasis considered that encounter, one of the reasons he didn’t like agents was from the attitude that they showed, naturally he didn’t think about the fact that they had been correct.  There was the time a week after that encounter when he did call them in though…


 


           Drew looked around Mexico City before turning back to the building.  It took them four days but they’d found what seemed to be a base of operations for more of the terrorists associated with Morpheus.  He wondered though, these terrorists would seem to disappear in one part of the world to reappear elsewhere and they did it **bleep** quickly, was this really a base of operations for some of them?  “Not my concern,” he muttered. 


           “Boss, what do you want us to do?” one of his operatives asked.  He’d never get used to the new faces, he’d worked with his old team for a long time and just couldn’t get used to the fact they were dead; or more correctly, two were dead and the other two had vanished, something worse then finding their corpses.


           Drew broke from his revere.  “We’re gonna call some people in,” he replied as he pulled out his cell phone and the slip of paper he’d been given by the agents. He dialed the number and when a voice answered he said, “This is special operative Lewis, I believe we’ve found a terrorist base of operations in…”


           “Mexico City, ok we have agents on the way,” the voice replied.  Drew ended the connection, more than a little disturbed that they knew where he was. 


He was even more disturbed when after only a little bit of time, a black car pulled up and three agents got out.  How the hell did they get here so quickly and how did they know exactly where to go Drew wondered. 


“Mr. Lewis, are you sure they’re here?” one of the agents asked.


“We’ve seen them come and go from this building so yeah, they’d have to be here,” Drew replied.


“Very well,” the agent responded and they headed towards the door.


“Wait a minute, there’s only three of you,” Drew said.


“Yes, they don’t have a chance,” the agent replied as they went in the door. A few minutes later there was the sound of gunshots then silence.  The agents came back out.  “They’ve been taken care of Mr. Lewis,” one of the agents said as they got in their car and left.  Drew went and checked out the building with his team, finding a room with four people all dead around a telephone. How was it that three of those agents could do something that cost me my entire team back in New York without a loss?


 


Drasis sighed.  He’d gotten four redpills killed though at the time he didn’t know what redpills were.  The only good thing that came out of that encounter was that he saw more discrepancies in the world, putting him closer to when he left the ranks of the ‘blues’ and became a ‘red.’

Message Edited by Drasis_Original on 08-24-2005 02:58 PM
Message edited by Drasis on 08/24/2005 10:58:03.

 
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