Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25389303-20180831104140

A cold southern wind whipped against Douglas Vorcha's back as he stood atop the narrow metal railing. Behind him, a short 4-foot fall would land him back on the rooftop of LIFELINE Headquarters, and safety. But a single step forward, and there was nothing but air between him and a four-storey drop to the concrete below. The breeze caught his in his coat, billowing it forward and threatening to pull him off, and for a terrifying moment he thought he would fall. Then he regained his balance, smiling at his brief brush with death.

Somewhere behind him a door opened, followed by approaching footsteps.

''Nero? No, his would be louder. They must belong to Chloe. ''

His suspicions were confirmed when he heard a light gasp of surprise behind him.

"Director, I must insist that you stop doing that! If we were to fall now then..."

"...then I would be beyond caring what happens after I'm gone," he finished, before turning and stepping lightly down onto the rooftop. "But yes, you're right. To die now after all this planning would be most foolish of me."

He reached into his coat pocket and fished out a lighter and a cigar - Mistralian, of course, his favourite - and lit it. "I presume you have something to report?" he said with a mouthful of smoke.

"Yes, sir," the young woman replied. "The sensors you told us to plant in the woods surrounding the Sierra Facility have picked up movement. We believe it to be Nobel, as you predicted."

"His loyalty to that corpse of a wife he has remains as strong as ever, it seems. Good." He raised his face to the sky. Above him, Remnant's fractured moon glowed brightly, bathing his thin, pitted features in its shimmering light. "I knew he wouldn't be able to ignore an opportunity such as this..."

His assistant stepped forward. "Should I have the security detail move to intercept, sir?" she asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Patience, Chloe. The mouse must reach the cheese before the trap can kill it. For now, we wait." He thought for a moment. "What of our two contractors?"

"Moving into position, sir."

"And security?"

"The same, sir."

He nodded. "Excellent. The stage is set then, and the performers chosen. Only time will tell if our actors know their lines better than Nobel knows his." He turned away.

"If I may, Director, " the assistant began. "I was surprised you were able to convince the board to approve the hiring of those two...mercenaries...for this business with Doctor Nobel. I didn't realise we had the funds to spare..." She thought for a moment. "We...um...do have the money prepared, don't we, sir?"

Her question was met with muted silence from the businessman, save for a long outward breath that sent a cloud of tabacco smoke rising into the air. From behind the Director's pitch-black shades, little expression was visible. Only a thin frown adorned his pale, sunken face.

"That will be all, Miss Barnet."



Blanc Claymoore watched as the last of the trucks pulled out of the floodlit compound, followed by the rattling sound of the barbed wire gate being closed and locked behind them. Glancing down at watch built into her suit's left gauntlet, she read the time.

11:54. Damn near exactly as the informant said.

Nestled comfortably in a small valley between two of the mountains surrounding the capital, LIFELINE's Sierra Facility was practically impossible to stumble across without already knowing its location. A single dirt road was the only obvious route to the facility - which, in truth, was little more than a modern warehouse. Protected by a high metal fence and armed guards, it usually be tough location to infiltrate.

But not tonight.

She returned Aten's Ray to its place on her back and hopped down from the tree branch on which she perched, landing two metres away from where her masked companion was waiting for her.

"That's the last of them," she told him, brushing leaves from her hair. "We should have about an hour before any more shipments or security comes through, which gives us the perfect window. Even so, we need to do this quickly and quietly."

She felt an unsettling feeling rise within her then - a gnawing fear that had crept up while she had busied herself with scouting the compound. It took her a moment to realise she wasn't afraid of the mission, or the prospect of fighting - and potentially killing - innocent people. Instead, it was the act of working behind Diaboli's back that terrified her.

We're supposed to be lying low, and instead we're out here in the middle of the night, planning a robbery.

She shook her head vehemently. No, Nobel helped her when Decade had been captured by those Decimari people. It was time she repaid that debt properly. Speaking of whom...

"I hope you know what to look for once we're inside," she said to the masked man. "I don't want to be here any longer then we have to." 