Realistic or Modern A Spy's playground (realistic Espionage-simulated)

[Lappi]

Spoiler: OOC

https://www.rpnation.com/threads/spys-oocoms-system.327866/

Multiple people have there tablets, phones, or other device light up with the oh so annoying notification sound. It would be a email from the syndicate the recently requested to join.
It reads as follows.
"Congratulations "Insert name here" you have been hand picked by us to be hired. Your first job is to assassinate a high profile target by the name if Veronica winter's. Good luck, and the details are in the file linked"
The details includes the city 'NY'. Address, targets schedule and targets social media accounts
A easy hit, unknown to those inside of the hit. It would be a competition for now.
"We will update you regularly if you choose to sit out. Thanks for your cooperation."
(Congrats for viewing or jumping in! CS and OOC are in the spoilers.! The story will also be available and the (hated) rules)

Spoiler: CS sheets

https://www.rpnation.com/threads/a-spys-playground-cs-sheets.327677/#post-7767791

Spoiler: Rulez

1. Don't be a Asshole
2. Don't argue with the GM (unless about storyline)
3. Don't be a dick either
3.5: Keep some semblance of Grammer.
4. Avoid anime. But use it if it is deemed alright by me.

 

[Raku]

Elijah was having a nice day watching a few movies. Not much was happening other than the occasional telemarketer call which he angrily denied. As his phone made the familiar "ding" of a notification he opened his device. Seeing it was an e-mail from Syndicate he smiled. After reading it and seeing it was an assassination he laughed a little. It was what he did best, kill. He knew how this would go. He would catch a quick flight to NYC and disguise himself as a musician and hide his rifle in a specially built case that would hide the rifle under a cello or bass. Elijah immediately got to work enacting his plan and would be gone very soon.

 

[Daniel Reaving]

Luckily for Valentina she was already in New York when she got the call. Giggling softly as she laid there in a bed of a 5 star hotel next to some model from France whom Valentina had spent the night with. Smiling as she hugged the French woman tightly before hearing her phone go off. Immediately frowning she sat up and grabbed her phone immediately answering the call. "
Zdravstvuyte? chto eto?......
skol'ko?." She answered and asked in Russian which made the French girl look at her curiously as whoever was on the other side told her about the contract. "On sdelal eto." She said again after a minuet then hung up before sighing and setting her phone down. Immediately leaving over and kissing the French girl once before she got up and started to get dressed. The model started to do the same as she asked. "What's going on? Is everything ok?" She asked which Valentina replied with. "Of course beautiful. I just had a business call and now I've gotta go handle it. You have my number though. Call me." Valentina replied to the French model in a soft sweet tone as she finished dressing in a pair of black skinny jeans, a white tank top with a black leather riding jacket and some black work boots. Blowing a kiss to the model before leaving and quickly heading to the ground floor. It was clear Valentina's sweet manor had quickly changed back to normal as she left the building and hopped onto a black crotch rocket and started the motorcycle before racing off to prepare for tomorrow

 

[Elucid]

Alfred was in Islamabad when he got the message under the alias of a John Carroll an English reporter from some big international news network , he had been here for the last five months trying to identify the location of alleged RAW agents operating in Istanbul. If there's one word you could use to describe Pakistani high command it would probably be "paranoid".

Alfred checked and double checked the information he'd gotten making sure the assignment was indeed from the syndicate and that this Mrs Veronica Winter's really exited . Satisfied he penned his final report on the operation at hand Identifying 3 Indian businessmen on temporary stay in Pakistan as RAW agents , they're clean of course but the higher ups don't know that and they'll probably not double check . really whats the worst that could happen , an international incident ?

Next he booked the earliest Etihad flight to New York possible taking a detour in France , it would have to be Economy this time for he was going as Mr Cory Matthews back from his retirement holiday in France. He would hopefully have all the things he needed at his safe house in NY, he didn't really worry about it much the faster he'd get out of this dump the better.

 

[Lappi]

Pendington sat in the small New York bar. Drowning out his own voice in moonshine and whisky. He enjoyed vodka but it wasn't his taste tight now. He eventually looked at his phone after 4 emails. "That's a charm. Only 31 miles away. In the big city" he looked out the window. New York City was all new York is known for. But he lives in the more rural area... Well as rural as it gets.
Takes a taxi down to the big Apple. Constant big lights and big assholes. The taxi driver seems like he is going to talk to him but a large man who looks like he could fight someone at any moment is not the best social partner.
After they reach the address he steps out of the taxi and gives him a hundred. "Keep the change" he was too lazy to count it. And it's not like he could read the numbers anyways. He goes into the hotel room and collapses into the bed, passing out after around 20 minutes.

 

[The Omen of Death]

Shoshana was in NYC at the time dressed up in a female suit and wearing a Star of David pendant that she got when she was young, as a memento from her father, sitting in central park, taking in the scenery of people walking around and children running around playing and whatnot, feeling the nice breeze and very simply contemplating and thinking about her past in Israel and her time working with the Mossad, when she got a notification on her phone, checking to see it was an email, she chuckled slightly when she saw it was the Syndicate, and boy did they want her swinging, literally contracted to do an assassination. Shoshana looked it over and saw all the details it provided, seeing how it provided addresses, social media, etc. Which made this quite easy for her, although she knew better than to assume it would be THAT simple, nonetheless this gave her some time to plan this out, just like the Mossad, very top secret Wetwork assassinations on people such as those nuclear scientists in Iran, something Mossad consistently denied having involvement in. Shoshana then stood up and began heading back to her apartment.

 

[Raku]

Elijah smiled as he looked down on his phone. It was another target. He had just gotten off the plane and he already gained another job. With a smile, he rolled his specially made "instrument" case through the airport and out to the taxi. Paying the driver and giving him an address to a hotel that was near the work of both targets working places. He felt like his old self again, undercover and on his way to kill someone.

 

[Lappi]

When the group got to the big Apple they got another email
"Congratulations. You made it to New York, here is your target"
Name: Michel Bilems
Occupation: Judge
Housing: 2891 Harrison Blv
"I expect you to eliminate her with extreme prejudice and of the utmost discreetness. Good luck"

 

[Enzyme]

The bright, neon lights flashed; the music blared. The penthouse overlooked Hollywood, strategically embedded in the Hollywood Hills. Thomas Crossman made his way through the party, pushing his way through the sweaty bodies. His eyes scanned the room like a machine, looking for the host’s security. Jason Martinez, a famous musician, owned the home. He wasn’t so much talented, as he was rich. His music business sat upon his cocaine empire. Thomas Crossman, however, wasn’t hired by the police to take him out. He was hired by an angry father whose 17 year old daughter overdosed on his product.


Thomas Crossman got an invitation from a guest outside,“exchanging” it for a pricey hospital bill, easily making his way to the party. Killing Jason wasn’t going to be easy, as he locked himself in his office. Security was in charge of guarding the door, periodically switching between shifts .


Thomas’ eyes locked on a man in a black suit. An ear piece was implanted in his right ear, shades covering his eyes. A man stood next to him, wearing similar attire. Thomas kept close to the men, making his presence non-conspicuous. He moved from the dance floor, to the lounge and to the bar. He was waiting, he knew it was only a matter of time. The guard broke off from the crowd, Thomas a couple paces behind. They made their way through the sea of people.


The guard went for the handle of the bathroom. It was a rather small bathroom, only six by four. The guard walked into the room, Thomas speeding up. Just as the guard was about to close the door, Thomas sent his palm into it, keeping it open. Thomas managed to wrap the fiber wire around the guard’s throat before he could turn around. Intertwining the cord, he lifted the guard a good three inches off the ground. The guard’s legs flailed helplessly above the ground. Thomas, having full control over the guard, slammed the man’s head into the glass. The glass shattered into pieces, falling into the sink. Thomas let go of the guard, allowing him to fall to the floor. A thin coating of blood covered the fiber wire. Thomas calmly closed the door to the bathroom. The guard wheezed on the floor as he held his neck. Thomas bent over and entwined his fingers in the man’s hair. He proceeded to shove his head in the toilet. The guard slammed his hands against the sides of the toilet bowl, attempting to come up for oxygen. Thomas refused to let up, forcing his head underwater.The resistance slowly died down, the man’s body going limp. Thomas let go, letting the man slump on the floor. Thomas’ face remained passive as he unbuttoned his shirt.


Thomas enjoyed the man’s fabric on his skin. It was custom made and built for comfort. Thomas adjusted the cufflinks on the jacket to fit his wrist. He moved the ear piece from the man’s wet hair. He patted it down on the sink towel until it was dry. He then fitted it inside his ear. He went down for the final object, the glasses. As he picked it up, he noticed blood was stained on the edges and a lens was missing. He tossed it aside, dropping it on the corpse. As he stepped back into the party, he locked the door from the other side.


Thomas navigated throughout the party, not afraid of shoving people that were directly in his way. He made his way to the staircase. It was designed brilliantly. Windows rested behind the staircase, an infinite waterfall built into it. The stairs hovered over a patch of earth where exotic flowers thrived. Thomas had no time to observe the beautiful architecture as he pushed his way up the stairs. He moved through the crowded hallway, easily spotting where Jason’s office was. A heavyset guard stood in front of the door with his hands together at his waist. Spotting Thomas, he let out a sigh of relief. “Finally. You’re up.” Thomas nodded to the man, taking his place. “I need a fuckin’ drink.” The guard muttered as he moved down the stairs. Thomas assumed the same position.


Thomas turned from the crowd, gripping the handle to the door. It turned with ease, allowing entrance to the office. As he moved inside, he saw Jason Martinez sitting at his desk with a handful of papers. He looked up to Thomas, his eyebrow perked. “Did something happen?” Thomas didn’t respond, softly closing the door behind him. “What’s going on?” Thomas turned to Jason, now moving at him at a steady pace. Jason, watching this, was struck with confusion. As Thomas moved closer, he brandished a silenced FN Five Seven from the hidden belt holster on the back of his waistband. Thomas proceeded to press the barrel against Jason’s forehead.“Woah, Wo-” He pulled the trigger, almost instantly, as the barrel touched his head. Jason’s eyes widened as his brains shot out against the large glass panels behind him. His eyes rolled to where the barrel was touching his head, before he fell face first onto his papers.

 

[Enzyme]

The steam, tumbled out of the barrel of the silencer. Thomas remained in the same firing position. He then slowly receded his handgun to his holster. He continued to watch the corpse, almost as if it would spring back to life. The night sky pierced in through the panels of the window. The glow of light was partially obstructed by the blood splatter, leaving the corpse in darkness. The particles of light lit up particular features of Thomas, such as his eyes and the few scars that were visible. The blaring music in the living room was almost inaudible from the office. The floor, however, still vibrated faintly from the bass. The wind overpowered the noise of the music, as the bullet had surpassed the exit wound and shot clear through the window. The small hole in the window caused several large cracks to form. As thomas was leaving, he swooped his hand by his foot to grab the bullet casing. He then
proceeded to shove the casing in his pocket before exiting the room.


Thomas closed the door to the gruesome scene. No one seemed to have a clue. The hallway was still crowded, people mingling and drinking. Thomas made eye contact with another guard who nodded. The guard then took Thomas’ place, standing in front of the door. Thomas moved back down the hallway, sliding between the gaps of people. As he moved down the stairs, he couldn’t help but notice the large, impatient line formed outside the bathroom door.


Thomas exited the party, holding a plastic bag which contained his original clothing. As thomas made his way down the steep hill to his car, people continued to pass him, for the party was far from over. Thomas’ phone buzzed lightly in his pocket, the light shining through his pants. He smoothly pulled the phone out of his pocket, reading the alert. He shifted his eyes rapidly across the email, his emotions seemingly unfazed.