hermajestysfury: (Default)
He's pacing the rug of his office with steps that are no weaker for his age. The media attributes it to clean living, only he and one chemist know the real secret. One chemist who hasn't seen the light of day since before Nick Fury's funeral, not nearly long enough ago.

It was bad enough when there were three of them appearing out of nowhere. Rogers was supposed to have been disintegrated, Fury was dead; he knew because he'd been there when it happened, and the new man? Worse and worse. The last thing he wanted, the last thing he needed, was a new batch of costumed do-gooders showing up to force their ideals on him again.

He's worked hard to get where he is today. He's lied, cheated, stolen, and committed far worse than mere murder to keep people under his thumb and out of his way. Sabotage of this hero, assassination of that one, backing this or that law. Weeding out the strong and leaving the public weak so that his voice would soothe them and make them follow.

This will not stand. One purple finger points at the generals and spooks lined up near the door, "You will find them, each and every one of them. I most especially want the man in the orange suit and the man in the green. One and Four. You will find them and you will bring them to me.

"Dead or alive."
hermajestysfury: (Default)
The target is a caravan of people who have been picked up by the President's squads to be tested and cleaned. The world isn't kind to those who have been picked up, even if they are found clean.

The path has been charted out, the number of people (thirteen) has been confirmed, and so have the number of guards. The point of extraction is between two abandoned warehouses.

420: Tests

Jul. 9th, 2008 10:42 pm
hermajestysfury: (Default)
The tests have been run. Every single test that anyone could think to do with several bits of hair and the blood found where Fury and the other man had fallen. Every single test, duplicated as often as they could. The conclusions were as unwelcome as they were undeniable.

The other man did not exist. He simply...didn't. In all of their files, in all the genetic research they've been doing, there is no one who fits. Subtle things were off, to the point where one horribly unhappy scientist had to explain to the President for Life that there was no way that the man in the orange suit could possibly be a native of this Earth.

Or any of the known near Earths. And he's probably not a mutant. Or a standard-type hero. Alien is unlikely. He's just a man, in an orange suit, who appeared at much the same time as Fury.

The President for Life is not amused. At all.
hermajestysfury: (Default)
The target is low on information, this time, but high on things which will be useful in the future to either side; weapons. It's the major depot for this city and the three men who comprise the revolutionaries in this where and when are going to demolish it while looting as much as possible.

The complex has multiple buildings, four of them, and the weapons are stored in such a way that without prior knowledge of what is where they are not usable in current manner. Ammunition is stored in a different building from the clips, which are stored differently from the rest of the weapons. Fuses and mines are also stored separately, one with ammunition and one alone. The idea is that people who are sent here have the time to go from building to building. It isn't an emergency cache, this is a working facility. It is patrolled day after day by grim faced men and women who were personally chosen by the President to protect these weapons.

Lunches are taken in three shifts, with two thirds of the guards on duty at any given time. All gates require both a photographic key-card and verification by someone who personally knows the entrant, the people manning the gates were chosen for photographic memory.

The walls are twice the height of a man, with angled wire to keep people out. They're comfortable for two people to pass, but no wider than that. The stair cases also require use of the key cards to get in.

As a last situation, guard dogs both patrol with the guards and are allowed to wander through the complex on their own. Feeding is performed at dusk and dawn, enough to keep them healthy but not enough to get them fat and slow.
hermajestysfury: (Default)
The building is the same as it was the day before. Few obvious people, few obvious cameras. Plenty of open space, and a couple of men across the street getting themselves ready for a snatch-and-grab...while prepared for it to go very, very wrong.
hermajestysfury: (Default)
There are two things that a revolution needs: information and weaponry. Sir Nicholas is distressingly short on both. He has been gaining information as fast as possible, from Rogers, from Gordon Freeman, from books and newspapers and files, but in the end there are still too many things that they don't know which they need to know.

The Haile building is not a terribly important building in the grand scheme of the President For Life's power. It was one of the last things that Emma Frost funded before her murder and was designed to find ways to track movements of money more securely. As a private tool she used it to keep her fortunes growing.

After her death it was confiscated by the government, who used the tools to track mutants instead of money and create files of people who might be carriers of the genes that the President For Life disapproved of. To the normal-looking, weak-willed public it is a building that carries on the task of keeping the mutant menace from disrupting them. To the rare holdouts and those who look different, even more rare since the early 21st century started, it's just another place which occasionally sends out armed soldiers to arrest people for the crime of being too strong-willed to follow the President.

In theory it is also a building which contains a directory of places where information on the dead can be found. Information on the dead, the lost, the mad, and the hiding President. He shows up on the television daily, live, to broadcast his speeches...but his physical position is heavily guarded.

The building is two stories tall, from the outside. L-shaped with a moderately sized parking lot. Two doors in, one at the crook of the L and one at the long end, and an emergency staircase up the other end, darkened windows with the blinds drawn and the occasional small light as someone has stayed to work late into the night.

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