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Post by Jiang on Jan 6, 2009 0:17:13 GMT -5
Date: March 15, 2043 Location: City of Stilwater [Map of Stilwater: faqsmedia.ign.com/faqs/image/article/925/925960/mdean76_saintsrow2_map.jpg ] The Story So Far:Stilwater City. This thriving metropolis has been hailed as the ‘Jewel of the West Coast’ and ‘A Beacon of Hope in this Dark World’. Sadly, it fails to live up to either of those titles. Stilwater is rife with corruption and crime, just like any other city. The politicians are widely known to be little more than puppets for either the Mafia, or the power-mad Mayor and his cronies. The Police force is literally in the Mayor’s pocket, and does his bidding without question. The local division of the FBI is little better; for all of them have been getting nice and fat on the thick envelopes of cash regularly sent to them by city officials. Bribes to overlook the rampant corruption plaguing the city government. The Russian and Italian Mafia’s are running unchecked within the City, with the Italian Mafia controlling the poorer southern parts of Stilwater, with the Russians holding sway over the noticeably more well-off northern sections and suburbs. In between them, all manner of small street gangs are fighting it out in lengthy, never-ending gang wars. The people on the streets live in constant terror of both the brutal police and the rampaging gangs. Every cop who isn’t crooked is pretending that they are, so that they don’t end up in a tragic ‘accident’ on the firing range or while on patrol. Every politician who has dared to stand up to the Mayor and this chaos has mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again. The smarter folks just keep their heads down and try not to be noticed. Can the City be saved? Possibly, but it will not be easy. It will be a hard fight to restore the city to it’s former glory, and it will take the co-operation of everyone who dares to resist the dictatorship of the Mayor and the iron fist of the Mafia…
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Post by SimbaKovu on Jan 6, 2009 0:24:50 GMT -5
Charlie Rothman was pouring over the appropriations bill at his desk. Loaded down with pork for the Mafia, as usual. He heaved a great sigh as he listened to the gunfire in the distance outside his office window in the heavily fortified City Council building. He stood up and looked out the window....
Nothing but decay and corruption, he though to himself. "These past seven years, what have I accomplished?" he asked himself. It was at that moment, that time, right there, that he made his decision on the subject that had been bouncing around in his head for the past two months. After all, he had been in the Council for 7 years, and it would be a great opportunity to finally get these people's crimes out front and available to the public eye. He knew it would be tough and he may not make it out in one piece if the Mafia had anything to say about it, but he made his decision right there.....
Charlie Rothman was going to run for Mayor.
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Post by Jiang on Jan 6, 2009 0:38:51 GMT -5
Just as Mr. Rothman was gazing out his office window, Sergeant Samantha Drecker, a member of one of the City's numerous SWAT teams, was gazing out the partially boarded-up window of the bunker-like 13Th Precinct, located in the southern region of Stilwater, near the fairly wealthy area surrounding Saints Row.
There were sandbags lining the whole of the wall near the window, along with still more sandbags sitting on the window sill. The crude fortifications had been made with the singular aim of helping to stave off a assualt from one of the street gangs, or worse, a strike from the Italian Mafia. The black panthress sighed and adjusted the front buttons on her all-black officer's uniform, as she turned around from the window and padded towards the door. "What has this city become?" She asked herself, while walking out.
Here she was, twenty-six years old, and having already spent eight years on the force. Eight years of almost constant fighting. Maybe her brother was right; it would have been safer to join the Marine Corp and get out of Stilwater. And she had been considering it, until one Charlie Rothman joined the city council. Things had been looking up at that time, seven years ago. The gang violence had settled down, and it was looking like life was going to become semi-normal again.
But it wasn't so. A few months passed, and it all went to pot again.
The panthress sighed once again, picked her 9MM off her desk, and thrust it into her hip holster. She drew back the sleeve covering her left forearm, and looked at the display screen built into the protective armored forearm of the skin-tight combat suit she wore under her uniform. She was scheduled to go to the City Council building as a bodyguard for the Captain of the Precinct. She didn't mind, it was a nice change from the chaos surrounding the precinct. And so, with that thought in mind, the SWAT officer started out her office and headed towards the elevator that would take her down to the Parking Garage, where a Panhard Armored Car was waiting to take her to the Council Building.
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Post by ♠Rafiki♠ on Jan 6, 2009 17:59:19 GMT -5
With a heave, Gorski and Barbandov tossed the final "Carpet" over the side of the barge. It hit with a splash; the two men didn't look back twice at the small slick of old blood that trailed from one end of the rolled carpet. It vanished from view moments later, into the murky depths of the bay. Neither man ever bothered to question why the mafia's "carpet disposal system" involved illegal off-shore dumping, nor why the loads often mysteriously bled, or even why they were tied and weighted, to sink and stay sunk. They were smart men; smart men did not ask questions. They didn't need to learn the hard way, that dead men did not either. The example had been set often before. "последнее всего. Я надеюсь что мы не получает выбираемыми для этой обязанности снова скоро. Она не оплачивает достаточно, и я не люблю она также." Said one man, in a thick down jacket, as the two headed to the command barge. The other man nodded, puffing on his hands and rubbing them together. "Соглашено. Я как раз радостен мы сделан. Я хочу получить домашняя быструю, или рискую получить переподчинен слишком скоро." He said; they went below deck, as the barge silently and steadily churned onward; the wake dusted away all traces of their "disposal" run. I'm lashing out, the rage burns a hole in me Gone insane from the pain that feeds my anxiety I'm punching holes in the walls caving in on me Trapped by time and scared to death of life
The evil lives inside of me I'm lost, without faith I won't carry the cross they made for thee so your suffering seem to have been in vain The question remains...
Hell or heaven? Time to realize When you're gone, that's it! There's no paradise
I drift through life All those days they were totally wasted Everyday exactly the same I gotta take my chance and break this vicious circle Face the lie Despite of the test of faith that lies before me I'm gonna hate it but I gotta break these chains.... Soren Pierce jogged through the park, lip-synching with one of his favorite songs by Carnal Forge. Despite it being nearly 12:03 am, and him living in the projects, he was one of the few people in the area that went unmolested by the underlife. "Fierce Pierce" was a known regular at the gun ranges and a usual top contender in the martial arts tournament at the Golden Dragon dojo 3 blocks from Gardener Park. Soren was well known for much seedier reasons as well, unfortunately. A well known dealer of "Quality" home-grown narcotics like pot, and distilling his own alchohols, he was also afforded the typical "Hands off!!" protection druggies and repeat customers often gave; why kill the goose when you could continue to reap the rewards of the golden eggs? Still, being invovled with the underworld wasn't without it's dangers; it was why he had a SUB-2000 carbine in his backpack, along with usual civillian gear, and some quick-sell "merchandice". The carbine was an ingenious invention; barely 16" inches folded, it used 30-shot glock stick-clips chambered in .40, which allowed pistol-cheap ammo, with rifle-strength power and accuracy. It was not without a G23 either; the interchangable clips were invaluable in emergencies. Life was always hard in lower Stilwater; the only upside was down here, the only problems plaguing one were the gangs, and some Mafia thugs. The police had no want or reason to waste valuable man-power and all-important cash in the slums, and avoided them usually. It was not often any real busts happened, unless there was serious money being made without the famlies or cops getting a cut of it. Soren was overly cautious of his deals; usually only long-time favorite clients, with the usual cloak & dagger drop-offs/payments. It hadn't failed him to date. Something didn't sit right with him, this night. Felt weirder than usual. Something big was fittin'a go down.
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Post by Jiang on Jan 6, 2009 18:20:36 GMT -5
When Sam stepped out into the dimly lit parking garage, the vehicle waiting for her was not the expected Panhard armored car, but instead, a Alvis Vickers 'Scarab' Recon Vehicle, a superior four wheel drive armored car that was replacing the PD's fleet of aging Panhards. The Scarab was painted Olive Drab rather than the Citywide standard dull gray or black, due to the fact that it had been shipped in directly from the military stocks at the factory, and it was armed with the factory standard Browning M2HB Fifty caliber heavy machine gun.
Sam clambered into the Scarab via the right entry hatch, and settled into the passenger seat of the armored car. Behind her, she could hear the Gunner, Sergeant Mike Williams, whispering to their passenger, Captain Harold Germain.
Apparently, due to fighting at the Football Stadium, the rest of their entourage had been called out to assist in quelling the fights before serious damage could be caused to the Stadium. But the good news was their route was under patrol by a pair of UH-60 Blackhawks, each armed with M134 Miniguns and standing by to help the Scarab at a moment's notice. So, Sam felt fairly safe.
"Punch it. Let's get out of here and to the Council building ASAP." Sam ordered. The driver immediately complied, stomping on the gas and sending the Scarab screeching out of the Garage and onto the blacktop outside the Precinct.
"ETA to our destination: Fifteen minutes." Sam called back to the captain, as the driver flicked on the Siren and lights. Naturally, every car on the road ahead scattered in the face of the oncoming armored car. "Nobody say anything about any premonitions of sucess or how they've got a good feeling about this. I don't want us jinxed, got it?" Sam stated. The driver and gunner instantly replied 'Yes Ma'am.' Germain just chuckled and shook his head.
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Post by ♠Rafiki♠ on Jan 6, 2009 18:26:27 GMT -5
[[ On second thought, I won't be joining.... Sorry! ]]
Soren died when a drunk driver hit him on his way home.
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Post by SimbaKovu on Jan 6, 2009 19:11:03 GMT -5
Charlie turned away from his office window (even though it was certifiably bullet-proof, he still was never comfortable standing in the vicinity of glass). He sat back down at his desk and began to pour over the rest of the more than 200-page Appropriations Bill. However, upon reading that the program to construct a new sports Stadium was being granted nearly twice as much money as was the entire police force of the city! And the Stadium just happened to be in the district of a prominent Russian mafia leader and was proposed by a Representative with known ties to the leader! This was the last straw. Charlie let out an about 5-second scream, which he knew nobody would hear given that the office was soundproofed from the outside and his secretary was out to lunch. He knew he had a lot of work to do to win this city back, but he felt that running for Mayor was probably the only way of accomplishing that.....
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Post by Jiang on Jan 6, 2009 19:23:22 GMT -5
[BTW: Pic of the Scarab www.defense-update.com/images/scarab.jpg ] The Scarab roared down the road at her top speed of fifty-six MPH, which was lower than standard thanks to the fact that she had been up-armored to withstand direct hits from 20MM Armor-Piercing rounds. It had been ten minutes since they had set out, and so far, they had run into no trouble. But it wasn't to last. As soon as they got off the bridge leading into the northern island, a pair of black F-350's, both belonging to the Russians, roared out after the Scarab. "Two contacts pursuing us. Black diesel pickups." The driver called out. The gunner wasted no time getting on the Fifty-Cal. The lead F-350 sprinted ahead, and from the back left passenger seat, a man with a AK-47 leaned out the window and started firing wildly at the Scarab. Even without the applique armor, the hull of the Scarab was utterly impervious to such a weapon, and so it merely scratched the paint. "Shoot him, before he tries to shoot out our tires!" Sam yelled. The gunner responded intantly, depressing the Fifty's trigger and sending a volley of .50 Armour-piercing incendiary rounds tearing through the unarmored F-350's hood and cab. The vehicle was utterly shredded by the barrage, and with it's driver killed, it veered unguided into a concrete freeway divider, flipped, and skidded on it's back for twenty yards before catching on fire. The second F-350, fazed by the effectiveness of the HMG, backed off, then turned around and went away. "That wasn't even close!" The gunner laughed, as he lowered himself back into the Scarab and sealed the hatch. "Idiots, pitchin' a AK against a Browning HMG!" He snickered. Sam just ignored him and focused on the road ahead. Two minutes later, the Scarab arrived at the council building's parking garage. After escorting the Captain inside the building, Sam, deciding that it would take him about six hours to argue with the commission to acquire new funding for the precinct, started wandering around the building, seeing what there was to see.
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Post by SimbaKovu on Jan 7, 2009 0:35:39 GMT -5
Charlie's despair soon turned to distress as he heard automatic gunfire outside the Council building and somewhat down the street, He looked out the window a few seconds after he heard the gunfire and saw an armored vehicle pulling up from down the street toward the Council building. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the car was an authorized police vehicle. He decided that since the only reason police precincts even sent officers to the Council was to ask for an increase in funds, and since he was a member of the commission that assisted in appropriating these funds, that he should probably go down to the lobby to greet the officers and begin negotiations. He walked briskly out into the hallway and decided to take the elevator down seven floors to the lobby.
Upon arriving in the bustling and relatively safe lobby, he realized that, for some reason, the officers were not in the lobby. "Could something be wrong?" he asked himself as he waited anxiously. He took a seat near the sign-in desk and buried his face in his paws. Just then, he realized that he was the only member of his commission there to greet the officers!
"Where the hell are those bastards?!" he hissed to himself, in regard to his colleagues on the commission....
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Post by Jiang on Jan 7, 2009 0:40:20 GMT -5
"Already in the meeting room with Captain Germain. Don't worry, you aren't missing anything. He won't get his funding." Came his answer, delivered in a soft yet cheerful female voice, not unlike that of Nala, from the ever-popular Disney Movie, the Lion King. "Charlie Rothman, right?" The owner of the voice, Sam Drecker, asked, as she approached him from his right, a small smile on the SWAT officer's face.
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Post by SimbaKovu on Jan 8, 2009 22:37:43 GMT -5
Charlie grasped the hand of the newly arrived SWAT officer and smiled back warmly. "Yes, that would be me, and may I ask who you are?" he asked her back.
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Post by Jiang on Jan 8, 2009 22:46:41 GMT -5
Sam gave Charlie's hand a firm but friendly shake before replying. "Sergeant Sam Drecker." She replied, hoping that he didn't remember that she was one of Police Commissioner Gabriel Drecker's three children. Not because that good ol' Gabe was one of the few morally upstanding policemen in the city, but because she hated getting special treatment of any kind for her lineage.
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Post by SimbaKovu on Jan 8, 2009 22:54:24 GMT -5
A sudden wave of realization came over Charlie at that moment. "Oh! You must be Commissioner Drecker's daughter!" he exclaimed. "I've worked with your father on the crime legislation! He's good man," he assured the Sergeant, still shaking her hand.
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Post by Jiang on Jan 8, 2009 23:01:18 GMT -5
"Yes, I'm his youngest. I still remember him voting for you, and how he had me, my big brother Ewan, and my older sister Surin, come in and vote for you as well." Sam said, still smiling at the handsome white tiger holding her hand in his. "So... I realize my hand must feel wonderfully soft thanks to my fur, but are you really going to hold it all day, Mr. Rothman?" She asked with a angelic laugh.
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Post by SimbaKovu on Jan 14, 2009 21:25:02 GMT -5
Charlie finally realized he was still grasping the Sergeant's hand. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, unclamping his hand from Drecker's. With her laugh, he blushed very lightly and a stir of memories was stirring inside him, both warm and comforting....She had his mother's laugh.
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Post by Jiang on Jan 15, 2009 0:38:13 GMT -5
"It's fine, it's fine." Sam replied, beaming up at Charlie. After a moment of gazing into the tall tiger's eyes, she decided that she really ought to attempt to make conversation with him.
"So has anything interesting been happening around here? Besides the usual corruption, bribery, and the occasional scandal with a mistress?" She asked, looking around at the officials milling about the building, before returning her eyes to Rothman's face.
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